Inked. (A Harry Styles fanfic)
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- Parts 11
Riley Andrews a rebellious twenty-one year old with wacky eggplant purple colored hair. With tatted ink scattered among her body along with a few piercings. She moves to Los Angeles searching for her dream job at becoming a tattoo artist. This young bachelorette is desperate for the company of someone. But not love. No never love. Nothing will love her. Not with her scar covered arms and her oddball appearance. Not to mention about her broken heart from her past relationship with her abusive ex-boyfriend. But all guys are the same right? Wanting the same perfect cookie cutter kind of girl. Nothing as hideous and with a past like her. But will that change with one guy who happens to come into the tattoo shop one day? Will he be able to show her what it's like to love again and to love herself with her flaws included? No never in a million years. I mean who wants an outcast like her? Who would want to deal with a screw up like her anyways? Even if feelings did exist it would be temporary like one of those kiddy tattoos. Nothing like a real one that's skin deep and inked.
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punkharry
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"Why do you care?" he asks. But it's not soft. It's sharp, defensive, like he's already bracing for the answer. I want to tell him the truth. Because you saved me. Because you're the only one who makes me feel real. Because if you fall apart, I don't know what happens to the rest of us. Instead, I just say, "Maybe I want to understand." He scoffs, no humor in it. "You don't. Trust me." Silence stretches between us. Then he steps forward, close enough that I can see the way his hands won't stop shaking. "You already know too much," he says, voice low. "More than you ever should've." I don't look away. "Then tell me the rest." He shakes his head. "It's not your place. You don't get to ask." "But I am asking." He exhales sharply. "Jesus, Lily. This isn't a story with a clean ending. I'm not a mystery. I'm a goddamn warning sign. I'm dangerous." I flinch, but I don't move. And that pisses him off more. He takes a step back like he's going to leave, then pauses. His eyes flick to my jacket. In one quick motion, he reaches in and pulls out the burner phone. "I think this belongs to me," he says, tone sharp but quiet. No accusation. Just fact. I don't respond. Just watch as he slips it into his pocket, like closing a door I wasn't supposed to open. He looks at me for one long second, jaw clenched. "Go home," he says again, this time like a warning. And this time, I believe him. He crushes the cigarette under his boot, turns his back, and walks down the alley, leaving me standing in the dark. - Lily didn't ask to be assigned to him. Harry Styles is a name whispered like a warning, famous for his ink, infamous for everything else. Brooding. Untouchable. But Lily has a habit of looking too closely. And when she finds something she shouldn't, the line between curiosity and consequence begins to blur. He told her to stay away. She should've listened. - TW: emotional abuse, manipulation, drugs, sex, violence, trauma.
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