Beautiful Pain

Teddi has been beatin, brusied and neglected by her mother ever since her dad left them. One day her mother pushes her over the edge by throwing a beer bottle at her and it smashing into the back of her left arm. Raged, she packs a bag and leaves for the ER and not planning to come back. In the parking lot she passes out and an innocent bystander to the rescue. Harry to the rescue I should say. Once Harry helps Teddi he feels a deep connection between them. He feels as though he's responsible for her. Keeping her safe is becoming one of his first priorities. Not only for a crack in the road but of her abusive mother. Will he keep her out of the harmful grasp of her own mother or will she slip away back into a dark painful life?


19. Sobered up

 I felt a cold rush of air blow over me that made me wake. My eyes lifted heavily as I looked at was around me. I was back at the hotel in the bed. I rolled over and felt someone's warm, bare back. I shot up as I noticed it wasn't the same skin color as Harry's

I sat up and looked down at the body. It was Zayn. Now the memory of him holding me and letting me us him a human tissue came back to mind. I shook him awake

"Zayn." I said to him. He moaned and rolled over. "Zayn, wake up." he opened his eyes slowly and looked up at me with a haze

"Mornin'" he yawn his a raspy tone.

"Thank you." I said to him as he sat up. He looked around confused then at me

"For what?" he asked

"You got me out of there. You stayed with me. Thank you."

"Of course." he nodded. Zayn tumbled out of bed and into the kitchen, picked up the phone in a swift move and rang the front desk for room service.

I walked out a moment later. I looked around the living area. Everything seemed so clean and tidy. Like nothing ever happened here. I began to wonder how many people have been in this room. What their story was.

There was a light knock at the door and I went to answer it.

"Room service." I heard the light voice say through the door. I opened the door wide as a rather tall, skinny man rolled in the trolley.

"Here you are, fresh fruit, granola, pancakes and some apple juice." he pointed to everything with a white gloved hand. "Anything else?" he asked me as he finally made eye contact with me.

"Some black coffee, please?" I asked him. He nodded his head and walked out without another word.

I went back and sat down next to Zayn on the sofa. He was flipping channels on the telly, nothing was to entertaining at seven in the morning. As he searched through endless channels trying to find something decent my mind began to wander. I thought back to about a year or so ago.

I was sat at my kitchen table as I was getting excited about hearing his car pull in the driveway and hear the slam of his door. The sounds of my father coming home after work always made me happy. I adored to see him finally as I didn't get to see him in the mornings due to his commute to work.

As I moved my pencil over the battered page of my math homework from being erased on multiple times I heard the faint sound of a car door shut. I dropped my pencil and ran to the window. I may be sixteen, but the joy of just knowing he was home always made me rush to get a glimpse of him through our small kitchen window.

Dad's footsteps were heard coming up the front porch stairs and I turned to get a full view of the front door. The locked turned in the door and in walked the face I always anticipated for. My father had a darker complexion that me, but his light eyes balanced it out. They hinted a strange mix of blue and light, mocha brown. Something I had never seen on any other person in my life, that's the way I liked it. His tall stature and built frame came to about a six foot four stance. His jet black hair slicked back away from his face like usual.

Dad was on the phone as he walked in. Not even caring for the conversation he held with someone on another line, I smiled widely and ran to greet him with a warm hug. He hugged me back instantly with a warm gesture.

He quickly let me go, speaking in a hushed tone as he walked away from me and into my parents bedroom, I could faintly hear the lock being clicked on the other side.

I brushed the strange behavior off my shoulders and sat back down in my seat, wondering if I could conquer that math problem from my geometry class. And trust me it was kicking my butt.

Mom had come home from the store a few minutes later with a weird vibe coming from her. Recently she had this constant mood of  "DONT QUESTION ME." so I didn't even dare of asking her problem.

She cooked dinner as usual, then knocked on the bedroom door for my father. He said he wasn't hungry and refused to come out. Dad always ate with us, I couldn't remember a time he wasn't sat in between me and my mother, but that night he didn't. It was just me and my mother. Dad didn't even come out of his room when he knew I was frustrated with my geometry, like always. He always came out to help me, but that night was full of differences. I didn't see him for the rest of that night.

And I didn't see him that morning either, he had already left for work as usual. But, the next night, I didn't see him either. Or the next night. Or the next night. Or the next night. I soon realized that I wouldn't see him the night after that either. That was the last night I ever saw the man I adored.

A moment later there was a small knock at the door. I got up out of my daze of my deep thought and felt my mouth water just thinking about a thick, black cup of strong coffee. I opened the door wide again and looked up. My eyes widened as I took in the view in front of me.

He was wearing his pajama bottoms still and a white short sleeve top. I could see his ship tattoo just peak out of the bottom of his right sleeve. Plus, the top was so sheer I could see the outlines of the butterfly on his stomach.

I knew his green eyes were searching my face but I didn't dare look up. I didn't want to see if his eyes were still cloudy. His stature changed, leaning down to my level. Trying to get me to look at him, but I just couldn't. His arm reached out gently with his hand turned out towards me. I stared at it.

A sudden chill ran down my back, that was the same hand that he slammed up abouve my head when he yelled at me as he tried to get me to stop crying. I shivered and looked away from him. Those feelings of scarce and fright came rushing back to me in a single moment.

"Room service..?" I looked up past his dark curly hair to the guy carrying a silver platter with a steaming mug on it. He seemed weary about the situation but tried to act as if he didn't notice the strange tension. I smiled half-heartedly as I nodded and asked him quietly to set on the table, please. He did as he was told and left without another word.

"Teddi..." he whispered. A tear formed in my eye. He sounded so pleading, so helpless. He again reached out his hand but I still didn't dare take it. I turned in my place and walked back into the room. He followed behind me.

"Teddi," he kept pleading as he followed me through the short entrance hall, and small kitchen. "Teddi, wait. Stop, please."

"Whoa, mate." Zayn stood up as I kept walking.

"Zayn, mate, you gotta let me go." he told him, I could hear a little struggle in his voice. Zayn must be holding him back.

"Harry, you've got to let her think, give her room to breathe."

"No, I need to tell her I'm sorry before she could possibly think I don't care about what happened last night. She needs to know."

I shut the door loudly. I was in my room now, sitting on the large King sized bed. Alone. I could hear their conversation through the door as tears where spilling down my face. I did not make a sound. Honestly, I don't think I could ever be able to cry with voice. I have mastered crying silently so well, and had to do it for so long, I could never go back.

"Teddi..." I heard him knock on the door. He knew it was unlocked. "Teddi, can I please come in?" there was more plead in his voice. I think he was crying.

"Teddi I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ever done that. You have no idea how awful I feel-" his voice broke. I slowly stood to my feet and inched my way to the door, still listening to every word he said. "I blame myself." It seemed as though he was talking to himself now instead of me. "I should have stopped while I was ahead. It seemed like a good idea at the start, but I over did it. I will never touch another bottle of that stuff-"

I slid down the side of the wall and leaned my head against the door. Harry stopped talking because he knew I was there. The only sound I could pick up from between our  barrier was his soft sniffles from the tears the were probably running down his soft cheeks. I wanted to see him but didn't have the courage to open the door. I just sat listening to him.

Harry had sat there for a good twenty minutes before he stood up, brushed himself off and walked away. He knew I wasn't going to open up any time soon. So without a word he just left. I didn't though. I stayed there for a while more replaying last night in my head. I should have seen it in his face before he had gotten in that state. Why had I not? I knew exactly what it looked like for someone to be half sober. I just never thought I had to look for it in Harry.

I lay my head back against the cold wall as Zayn started to call my name. I didn't respond as I just wanted to be left alone. HE opened the door and was surprised to see me still sitting there. HE helped me up out of the small corner and onto the bed. Zayn walked out and came back with a tray of food and my cup of coffee. He sat it down and left the room, closing the door. Leaving me alone. But, the strange thing was I didn't want to be left alone. I wanted a someone's company. A curly haired someone's company.

I reached out my hand and he took it without a word. He was still crying but I don't think he knew it. I walked backwards and felt my thighs hit the bed. He walked arounrd me and sat down. I lifted myself up and we sat close as we never took our eyes off one another.

 I lifted my other hand to his face, wiping away his tears from his cheeks.

"Now," I spoke very quietly. Almost a whisper. "Why are you crying?" I asked him as he just looked at me with soft eyes.

"I thought-" he began "I thought you were packing." he sniffled. Harry looked down at our hands and scooted closer to me. "I thought you were going to finish your packing and hop on the next flight back to London. I thought you were going to leave me." he chocked out.

"Where in London would I go?" asked him as I absentmindedly reached up and held the plane necklace close to me.  "My mum is probably in jail after what happened and I haven't a clue where my dad is." Harry chuckled like that was a stupid question.

"You'd find him." he whispered like a promise.

Harry leaned down to me very hesitantly, unsure of what I might do. I just sat there. I wanted him to come to me, until I realized what he was really doing. He needed me to move. Harry needed me to come to him. Just to know that I did forgive him and that I was okay.

"I'm sorry." he sounded as if he was pleading again. I nodded and leaned into him, giving him a soft kiss on his lips. Harry wrapped his arms around my waist tightly and pulled me close to his chest.

In that moment, I forgot why I was crying, why he was crying what had happened and even the world around us. All I knew is that I wanted Harry. I wanted him more now than ever.

Quickly, I wrapped my self around his neck, suddenly feeling an urge grow quickly inside me. I needed to be as close as possible as I could to Harry. I was already breathing heavily, not from the heaviness of the passionate kiss, but from my nervousness. I knew I had deep feelings for Harry, but after last night and seeing his reaction just moments ago when he thought I was going to leave him behind him made me realize I never wanted to leave him. The only plane I would see when we were apart or frustrated was around my neck.


He began to lean back as he scooted himself back on the bed. I let out a gasp as he placed a firm hand on my bum as he pulled me around. I broke away from the kiss and stared at his face with wide eyes. Harry looked up at me and brushed away the hair from my face and searched my features with an small understanding smile. Looking down at him, I nodded, telling him I was okay and that, yes, I was ready.

I let myself fall with him as he laid out on the bed with my legs on either side of his long, slim torso. Harry's hands where on the bare skin of my waist as he inched the fabric up from my stomach. His hands where like cold packs on my warm, smooth stomach. Harry sat up and removed his hands from me as he grabbed hold of the hem of his top and chucked it over his head and to the floor.


Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...