Conflicted (H.S)

Chapter 7

Clearing his throat, Harry chuckles, a smirk present on his face, “You should take a picture, it’ll last longer, although, I couldn’t imagine anything ruining this pretty face anytime soon.”

My face immediately deadpans, highly amused by his joke but not willing to show the hilarity of his statement. Nudging him not-so-slightly in the ribs as I passed him, I made my way out the door and onto the driveway.

“Jeez, tough crowd.”

Spinning on my heel to face Harry, I (possibly immaturely) poked my tongue out at him.

“Cute,” he snickered, “now, stop gawking, we have a reservation for 12:30.”

Pouting, I opened the passenger side door, planting my butt on the soft leather seat.

 ~~~~~~~~

Not 30 minutes later, we’d made our way from Camberwell to London, sitting at a table at “The Riverside”, the Thames to my left, menus in hand and a blonde waitress awaiting our order.

“I’ll have the beer battered fish and chips with a diet coke, love,” Harry husky voice floated in the air.

The waitress nodded and smiled politely at Harry, turning her attention to me.

“I’ll have the same please, except instead of a diet coke, can I please have a peach flavoured ice tea?” I cordially asked.

Nodding once again, she hastily removed herself from our presence.

“So, sup?”

“Really? Sup? Trying to be hip like the kids are we, Mr Styles?” a playful smirk plastered on my face.

“Hardy-ha-ha” Harry replied, a heavily sarcastic smile shot my direction, “So, the boys really like you.”

A blush crept up the side of my neck and I was very grateful for the waitress’ interruption, firstly, because she was bringing me tea, and secondly, because it gave me time to stop myself from fainting because oh my fuck One Direction like me.

Taking a rather large gulp of ice tea, I allowed the peach flavoured drink to flood my taste buds and glide peacefully down my throat before replying, “Really?”

“Yes, I was bombarded with endless question about, and I quote, ‘the one chick I bring home that apparently has a shred of dignity’, you have no idea how long it took me to make them leave.”

A loud giggle escaped my lips at Harry’s confession, although slight concern itched at the back of my mind, wondering what type of girls Harry normally brings home.

“So Kira, do you have any brothers or sisters?” Harry asked after me giggles finally subsided.

“Um, no,” I answered distractedly under my breath.

“So do your parents live around here?” an inquisitive look on Harry’s face.

“Ah, no” I replied with hesitation.

“Oh, where are they?"

My lips quivered at the memories that flooded my brain.

“I have absolutely no idea”

“What do you mean?”

“I, um, I was in foster care”

“But I thought you said your father was a photographer?”

“He was.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking?”

It’s now or never.

“Well, we were walking home after he came to get me from school. I was telling him about how well I’d done at a spelling test that day and was still hyped up from seeing my friends at school, and I’d run ahead slightly and I wasn’t watching where I was going, meaning I’d completely missed the car that was coming around the corner. But he’d seen the car and came running after me and, as cliché as it sounds, he pushed me out of the way and he’d been hit instead.”

At this point, I hadn’t realised I had tears streaming down my face, but I’m guessing Harry did as the pads of his thumbs glided across the skin beneath my eyes.

“What about your mother?”

“I don’t think it really sunk in that he was gone until after the funeral. She was a mess. She’d go out every evening and wouldn’t come back until the next morning, ready to collapse on the couch in a heap. She was a nightmare when she was drunk. She told me once that it was my fault that he died, and I was 12, so I believed her, I still do. She hit me for the first time that night, really fucking hard, too. Left a full hand print sized bruise on the side of my face, and when she woke up the next day and saw what she’d done, she banned me from leaving the house until it healed. She said it was for my own safety, but now I know that it was just her protecting her own skin. She knew they’d ask questions at school, and she did everything in her power to prevent that. Not six months after he was gone, she’d become a full blown alcoholic and did unspeakable things whilst she was drunk, although after the slapping incident, she’d made sure not to hit me in obvious places. One day, I think she’d gotten sick of the sight of me and woke me up in the middle of the night and told me that we were going to visit relatives in London, which should’ve set off the first warning bell considering we had no relatives anywhere, but I was half asleep and I wasn’t paying any attention. I fell asleep in the car and when I woke up, I was in a bed surrounded horde of doctors and nurses inspecting my bruises and asking me about a next of kin. I told them no, because there was no fucking way in hell I was going to go back to my mother if I had the chance not to. Eventually though, they pulled it out of me and I told them her name and my address. Two days later, I was told by an official that my mother had disappeared off the face of the Earth and everything from my old house had been cleaned out. With no living relatives or next of kin, I was taken to an orphanage. Being the ripe old age of 13, I was too old for anyone to want to adopt me. I was a mess. I spent the next 5 years of my life living in an orphanage, watching an endless stream of kids flow in and out of that place. It was torture. I will never, as long as I live, forgive her for what she did to me.”

Wordlessly, Harry removed himself from his chair and came over to my side of the table. He effortlessly lifted me from my own seat and sat down, placing me in his lap. My body soon relaxed into his, and I wept endlessly into his t-shirt. I couldn’t help it, his presence made me feel safe and I felt like I could truly trust him.

A/N: Sorry for the late update! Also, Kira is now played by Zoe Sugg :)