crumble | h.s
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- Parts 66
{completed}
"I want to go home." I plead.
"Do you? Because Lydia, I will take you home myself if that's what you want." He says lowly. I knit my brows together in confusion. He takes another step toward me.
"But, don't you remember? There's people out there, Lydia." He steps right up to me and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. "People who want to hurt you." he continues. I feel tears well up in my eyes as I let out a sharp exhale. Harry leans down so that his lips are right next to my ear and I tremble in pure terror.
"And this time..." I feel him speak against my ear.
"I won't be there to save you." he whispers darkly.
--
~crumble ; verb
-to break apart into small fragments especially over a period of time due to deterioration. ~
loving him meant risking everything. he was trouble and she knew it... but it was so hard to stay away.
Harry Styles is a criminal. He has criminal friends and lives a criminal lifestyle. Lydia White has been a good girl her whole life. A twist of fate causes the two of them to meet. Lydia falls for Harry but soon discovers who he is. Now, he has enemies out to get him...and her.
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The Register | H.S.
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β π©π¦πͺπ’π―π’π«π π’ /Λπ©ΙͺπͺΙπ―Ιπ«π°/ ππ‘π§π’π π±π¦π³π’: π π£π’π³π’π―π’π‘ π°π±ππ±π’ π¬π£ πͺπ¦π«π‘ ππ¬π―π« π¬π£ π―π¬πͺππ«π±π¦π π£π¦π΅ππ±π¦π¬π«; πͺππ―π¨π’π‘ ππΆ π¬ππ°π’π°π°π¦π³π’ π±π₯π¬π²π€π₯π±π°, π©π¬π«π€π¦π«π€ π£π¬π― π’πͺπ¬π±π¦π¬π«ππ© π―π’π π¦ππ―π¬π π¦π±πΆ, ππ«π‘ ππ« ππ π₯π¦π«π€ π‘π’ππ’π«π‘π’π«π πΆ; β΄ π‘π’π³π¬π±π¦π¬π« π‘π―π’π°π°π’π‘ π¦π« π‘π’π©π²π°π¦π¬π« β "Then tell me," I rasp. "Tell me and I'll deal with it. I'll handle it. Just-don't shut me out." "I can't," she says again, voice breaking. "I can't tell you. I can't be with you. And I can't stand here and watch you break and know that I'm the reason." She swallows hard, her throat moving. "Please don't make me explain it. Please just... stop." I take a step toward her anyway, rain dripping from my eyelashes, my chest hollow. "I don't care if it kills me," I say, and it's not bravado; it's a man with nothing left to barter. "If that's the price, fine. At least then I get to be with you before it ends." She makes a small sound, half sob, half laugh, and it's the most human thing I've ever heard from her. "Don't say that," she whispers, almost fierce. "Don't ever say that." She holds my eyes for one last beat, lips parted like she might say something else - something that could undo all of this, something that could make the rain stop mattering. But she doesn't. Instead, she exhales, low and unsteady, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says again, softer now, like a confession. Then she turns. And that's it.
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