Arabella
The weekend passed unbearably slow, the two days felt like eternities. I kept taking peeks of Mr. Styles house throughout the short school break, as if seeing him would mean he forgave me for my actions.
Aunt Lillian has yet to come home, despite it being six-thirty and Monday when her note clearly said she'd be home before. I hope she is well and safe, there are people out there who are capable of unspeakable things.
My school attire is freshly clean as I washed it yesterday afternoon. The scent is a light lavender, simple yet lovely.
I slip into my white as snow polo, adjusting my shirt as Aunt Lillian prefers. She says my breasts are much too large for a girl my age and my body could be compared to that of a whore. Her words are somewhat harsh, but as she promises, it's only because she cares for me.
I slide on the other components of my uniform, adjusting it here and there to how Aunt would approve. I never disliked my uniform much, but the just below the knee-high socks are a little off putting for me.
I stuff my backpack with all of the necessary items needed for school, adding a pale green apple to satisfy my hunger during the day.
The morning winds are rough, coming from all directions. Walking to school is my only option, since Aunt Lillian is out. My hair is down, with a single black clip pushing a parted side up.
I dread school, besides the learning part. Unlike my smarts, friends are something I lack in. I become awkward around girls my age, especially since some are interested in the same sex.
I am greeted by school with the same sights as every morning - teenage girls. Some are socializing with friends, others doing very unholy things. I crinkle my nose in disgust at those public displays of affection.
Very public and very affectionate.
My first period goes by like a breeze, same as the next. And the following, and the one after that. Classes are very easy for me, as this school doesn't accurately place their students in their suitable learning environment.
During lunch, I munch on my granny smith apple in silence. I isolate myself from others, the thought of socializing with other teenage females frightens me. The list of scenarios where I end up embarrassing myself is lengthy.
The rest of my day passes swiftly, much unlike the weekend. The day is gorgeous and I smile to myself, feeling the light winds hit me. Though, the school should modify our uniforms during cold seasons. Wearing skirts is not the best idea during winter.
The walk home is not too long, around about twenty minutes. Days like today, I wish my social areas were a bit stronger so I would not have to walk home alone. It's always quiet, and sometimes I just talk to myself, as weird as it sounds.
Unexpectedly, I'm knocked backwards while walking as if I walked into a wall. A muscular wall perhaps.
"You okay love?" A light British accent fills my ears. There's a hand reaching out to me, belonging to a male who looks around my age. My breath is knocked out my lungs momentarily at the sight of him - he's absolutely flawless.
His hair is jet black and styled in a neat quiff. My eyes meet his caramel infused ones, long eyelashes accompanying them. He flashes me a pearly white toothed smile, causing me to bang my head against the sidewalk.
"I need life alert." I exhale in short breaths.
He lightly laughs, a very beautiful thing. I now definitely need life alert, oh my god.
"Here, I'll help you up." The stranger grabs my hips, pulling me onto my legs. I blush as he scans my body, most likely checking for any bruises.
The proximity of our bodies is very close, I can feel his warmth. He's breathtaking, that I can say.
"Sorry, that was my fault love. Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm Zayn, Zayn Malik." He steps back and outstretches his hand, expecting me to shake it. I stare at it dumbfoundedly, to afraid to touch the godly creature before me.
"You don't have to be scared, say, what's a pretty young lady doing wandering the streets alone?" He questions. I shrug my shoulders in response, still processing what's happening currently.
"How about I walk you home, love?" He suggests.
I don't know. Really, he is a complete stranger. He could be a lunatic, or a criminal. A very good looking criminal though.
"Well, uh, s-sure." He smiles down at me from our height difference.
He snakes his arms around my hip, making me slightly uncomfortable. I squirm under his touch, but he doesn't seem to notice. Or possibly, he doesn't care.
Harry
My knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. I'm seething, how f*cking dare he.
I watched as that little boy knocked over my baby girl, my Arabella as she was walking. He probably did it on purpose too, just to get close to her beautiful self.
She was blinded by his "charm", not even realizing he was undressing her in his head. I saw the way he grabbed her hips to help her stand, that little fucker.
He looked at her body hungrily, thinking of things my baby girl probably has no idea of. It's tempting to grab him by his f*cking neck and wring him like the piece of scum he is.
Now he's walking her home, inappropriately holding her. I see by the way she squirms that my baby's uncomfortable, and that little bastard is smirking. He knows exactly what he's doing.
I speed home at a deadly limit. My fists collide with the steering wheel once in my garage, pounding as if they had a mind of their own.
I pause for a moment to catch my breath. I'm mixed with all types of emotions - anger, sadness, betrayal, heartbreak.
Whoever that little bitch was, I'm going to find him. And as for my Arabella, I'm going to make sure any boy who ever dares come near her, that she belongs to me.
Daddy loves his baby girl.
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I wrote this while taking a bath and I feel like it's crap, as usual
Maybe some daddy harry next chapter ooh
