Illicit [Harry Styles]

Chapter 51

"You've got some nerve!" I heard Niall shout as I came round. I'd drifted off on the sofa and his angry voice woke me up.

"I'm not here to cause any trouble, I swear." My blood ran cold. That was most definitely Harry's rather shameful sounding voice. "Please, just let me see her."

I sat up, trying to make the action quick but the strain in my eye forcing me to take it slowly. My brother was standing in the porch, which indicated to me that Harry was at the door. He was a bit thick if he thought Niall would let him in.

Why would he be here? He'd proven to me that he didn't care about me, that all of this was one big act to try and conquer me, that it was a game to him. The reminder made me feel sick again, and the fact he was here made my eyes water and my heart ache.

"Do you honestly think I'm going to let you anywhere near my sister after everything you've done?"

Harry let out a sigh so loud that even I could hear it in the living room. After a moment he raised his voice, shouting, "Jess?" into the house.

"She doesn't want to see you!" Niall snapped, probably trying to silence Harry to prevent me from hearing him.

I couldn't decide whether I did want to see him or not. Emotionally, he'd hurt me horribly, and he'd physically hurt my brother. I felt like I never wanted to see him again, like I wished I could forget about him completely to avoid feeling this heartbreak and betrayal, but at the same time I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to hear what he could possibly have to say, since so far he hadn't actually shed any light on the situation.

I pulled myself up off the sofa and crept over to the front door behind Niall, who immediately whipped round to face me. "Jess, go back in the lounge."

I allowed myself to glance timidly at Harry, and to my surprise, he looked absolutely awful. The way I'd pictured him looking in the ER - which I've been told over and over again was just a figure of my imagination - was exactly how he looked now. His eyes were dark purple underneath and incredibly droopy; he just generally looked exhausted. His expression was hopeful but sad as he stared at me.

He had no reason to be sad, I thought, it was me that should be looking devastated (if I didn't already).

"It's okay, Niall."

"It isn't fuçking okay! He's not coming in here."

"I want to talk to him," I said softly, trying to give both of them the impression that I was being mature in hearing him out, and nothing else.

"I'm not letting him in this house." He was persistent - totally adamant to keep Harry away from both of us.

"I guess we'll go outside then," I shrugged, going to step past him but being grabbed to stop me from doing so. Niall stared me down for a moment, thinking.

"If he's going to be anywhere near you it'll be under my watch." He turned back to Harry, "You can come in, but you're not out-staying your welcome. One wrong move and you're dead."

Harry nodded gratefully, quickly stepping into the porch and kicking off his shoes. Thankfully, Niall disappeared off into the lounge and I took Harry upstairs without a word, shutting the door behind us and perching on my bed.

He observed me silently for a while, his gaze burning a hole in the side of my head. He sounded nervous when he asked, "Are you... are you okay? Your eye, I mean. Does it hurt?"

"Yeah, it does," I told the truth. "I have a concussion, but... I'll be fine."

There was a short silence before he spoke up again hesitantly. "Jess..."