Spirit of the Dismantled

(M: Contains sexual scenes, offensive language and abuse) "I can't do this anymore. Why did I put up with that crap for 14 years? Why!!?" Cynthia is sick of being abused and mistreated. She just wants out and fast. With home life getting worse by the second, she needs to escape. With nowhere to go, she is positive that all is lost until a handsome boy comes to her rescue and little does she know that she'd need him like he needs her. The similarities that they share are disarming and together they embark on a journey where it takes two to survive.


16. Chapter 16.

Harry's P.O.V

"Harry, Harry!" I give Cynthia one last thrust as she cries my name. It's all that's needed for me to let go.

"Cynthia!" I breathed. We lay there for a bit, trying to calm our racing hearts. I lay on her chest, peacefully rising up and down in an attempt to return back to a steady rhythm. The only sounds are our heavy breathing and the soft hum of Adele's song 'Turning Tables'. If I focus hard enough, I can make out the sound of Cynthia's heartbeat. The thought makes me smile.

"What are you thinking?" I lift my head and my eyes fall upon hers. She arches an eyebrow.

"Oh nothing," I smirk. She pokes her tongue out so I make my way back up and my lips find it's target. I try to weasel my tongue in but she's playing hard-to-get.

"Oh, so is that how it is huh'?" 

"Yeah," she doesn't sound the least bit convincing.

"Can I please come in?"


"Oh, well, it's unfortunate for you because I can be a pretty good negotiator."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Like this." I tickle her and she kicks and screams, begging me to stop.

"HARRY! No, stop! Please!" Cynthia writhes underneath me, my body pinning hers.

"Can I come in now?" I laugh.

"Yes! Yes! Oh please, STOP!" she cries in desperation. Her mouth is wide open, giving me a head-start. I dive in and lock lips with hers, my tongue sliding in greedily. My hands find her head and I softly tug her hair so that her neck's exposed. I start to trail kisses down her throat, stopping at her collarbone.


"Yes Harry, again."


"Harry, where's your Christmas tree?" Cynthia walks into the lounge. 

"In the cupboard." I point with my head. She nods before setting off. I pace around the room, unsure of what to do. That's when an idea pops into my head. 

"Cynthia, I'm just gonna pop out and get some groceries. Will you be alright? You won't leave again?" I yell.

"I'll be alright babe. No, I ain't going anywhere so just go," she walks in and over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I lean down and give her a kiss to which she returns with more enthusiasm.

"Anymore and I'll have you right here, right now." I chuckle. Her eyes shimmer at the possibility. 

"Oh Harry, nothing's stopping you."


I pull up at Pete's, my lips curled up in disgust. His car's there, the same black BMW that cut us off. I turn off the engine and hop out, my boots crunching against the gravel. Shutting the door, I make my way forward. It's eerily quiet as I come up to the door. I turn the doorknob and find that it's open, saving me the effort of busting it down. When I walk in, the smell of marijuana hits me like a hammer. So strong and pungent. I walk into the lounge and find him sitting there by himself, doing some cones. His eyes widen when they see me.

"Haaarrry, I thoought-" his words slur but I don't let him finish as I run over and smack him square in the jaw. He drops the can before slumping down into the couch.

"You fucker!" he curses directly at me but makes no attempt to get up.

"Oh, I ain't finished with you yet!" picking him up, I carry him into the hall and shove him up against the wall. His mouth droops and there's a cut on his upper lip from where I punched him. His eyes sag and he can't even stand up straight.

"You fucking asshole! This is for cutting us off, you stupid ass prick!" I hook him in the gut and he curls over in pain. I then land a right hook to his temple, sending him to the ground. He tries to lift his hands up but they do little.

"Aren't you gonna fight me back? I know you've been wanting too! I'm a tad' pissed that you don't have the right space of mind to fight back!" I kick him in the ribs and hear his breathing whoosh from the impact.

"This is for my mother that you fucked up!" lifting him up again, I pin him up against the wall and knee him in his crotch. He wheezes at the intense force I make upon him.

"Oh and this is for being the fuckward' that you are!" leaning him on the cabinet, I successfully do a roundhouse kick that connects with his jaw. I hear a sickening crack as my boot makes contact. He falls to the ground, sprawled out like a eagle. Blood seeps from his mouth as he gurgles in his own pool of self-pity. 

"If you ever try to harm any of us, I promise you that I will kill you and I don't give a flying shit when I do," those are my last words that I ever have to address to him before walking out with the biggest grin I've ever worn on my face.




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