Pain and Perfection

This is the story of Amber Hill. She's your typical eighteen year old girl...except for the fact that she's physically abused by her father, has just lost her mother in a car crash, and that she hates the world. But Amber's in for the shock of a lifetime when she meets the hottest band out there, One Direction. She finds herself falling for the boy who's the least in common with her of all. But will love be enough to bring Amber out of the shadows, or is the pain too much to escape from?
They never said love would be easy.
They just promised that it would be worth it.



*caution, there may be sexual references and even some rated r scenes so be forewarned."

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4. Walking Home

Amber's POV:

The British Boy smiled at me, showing off his dimples. I stared at him for a moment and trned to leave again.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Home," I replied, though I had no idea where home was. It probably wasn;t a good idea to go walking in a place you've never been before.

"Well, where do you live? I'll walk you," he offered.

"I'm starting to get the rapist vibe again," I teased. He smiled.

""Sorry, love - er, Amber."

I gave him a look and the began walking.

"Come on, let me walk you," Harry insisted. "I promise, I won't stalk you."

I blew out a long breath. "Truth is, I'm lot and don't know where home is," I admitted, hoping he'd withdraw his offer.

No such luck. "All the more reason," he deciced. He turned away from me, towards his friends who were still watching us. "OI! I've got to help this girl find her way around. I'll see you all at the studio later!"

"But what bout the nandos?" his blonde friend complained.

"Go on and get your nandos, you freak!" Harry laughed.

"It's not as enjoyable without Hazza!" his friend declared. They al laughed.

"That's a bloody lie, Niall!" Harry replied.

'Niall' smirked and said, "You're right. Have fun and remember, man plus woman plus condoms equals no babies!"

I grimace as Harry's smile disappears, a blush rising on his cheeks. The other four boys laugh and set out for the parkin lot.

"Sorry 'bout that," Harry said awkwardly.

"Eh, you can't control what your friends say," I reply, though part of me feels like they were being slightly serious.

Harry doesn't repond and I don't expect him to. We walk out of the park and I fidget with my fingers, looking at the sidewalk. I wonder what he means about the 'studio.' I also wonder why he offered to walk me home.

"So how old are you?" he asks. His voice is deep. His hair is brown and curly, falling over his sea green eyes. I notice his hands, playing with a button on his damp shirtsleeve. His hands are large and they interest me. I've aways had an obsession with hands, though I have no idea why.

"Eighteen," I say shortly.

"Me as well," he says, smiling at me with his dimples again. I look away.

"And how long have you been in the beautiful UK?" he asks.

"How do you know I'm not British?'' I ask flippantly.

"The accent," he replied, his lip twitching with the threat of yet another smile.

"Is that smiling thing something you do a lot? Or are you just trying to charm me?" I snap.

He cocks an eyebrow. "So you do have something against smiling, huh? You know, frowning's not good for the soul."

I merely glance at him and look away, irritated

He chuckles. "To answer your question, I smile all the time. You should try it some time. I bet you have a beautiful smile."

I glare at him.

"I'm being honest," he insists quickly.

"I know," I admit grudgingly. "That's the bad part."

He laughs at my logic, but doesn't comment further. After walking for ten minutes, he asks, "Does anything look familiar? Are we close to your place?"

"I don't know."

"Well, why don't you describe it for me?"

"Well, my brother lives in a flat. It took about twenty minutes for me to walk to the park. And I remember a sign advertising homemade fish and fries," I told him.

He paused and looked at me. "Fish and fries?"

"Well, it said fish and chips, but chips in England are just fries so I thought I'd call it by it's proper name," I said matter-of-factly.

"It's proper name is chips."

"Chips are a snack made from baked potatoes," I insisted.

"No, those are crisps," Harry corrected.

"Why does England have to change everythign around?" I grumbled.

"Excuse me, but I reckon it was America that did all the changing," Harry argued. "England was a country long before America was."

"America's better," I said, teasing now.

He smiled. "If that's true, then why'd you come here?"

Harry's POV:

 

I immediately recognized that I'd said something wrong. She frowned and her blue eyes darkened. She looked away from me, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Did I say something wrong?" I asked, concerned.

"No, forget it."

"I'm serious. If I did, then I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." I rested my hand on her back, but she flinched and moved out of reach, smacking my hand away.

I raised my eyebrows as she scowled at me.

"Okay, forget it happened," I said, confused by her sudden change in personality. One minute we had a light-free banter, the next, she was right ticked off at me.

She sighed and nodded.

I bit into my bottom lip. "Well, on the bright side, I think I know what neighborhood you live in."

She didn't respond. I didn't say anything more.

Once we'd entered her neighborhood, she led the way down the street and to her brother's flat. I took in the place. It was quite nice. "Might want to remember the address, in case you get lost again," I advised.

She nodded and walked up to the door, putting her hand on the knob. I watched her, waiting for her to go in the house, but she paused. She slowly turned back to me. "Er, thanks, Harry...Have a nice life."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Won't I see you again?"

She grimaced. "I think not."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure this girl out. "You know, I don't believe that.''

She furrowed her eyebrows. "And why not?"

"Fate's a funny thing, love," I said, grinning.

She gave me a look, reminding me that she didn't like to be called love. "Yeah, well, whatever," she finally said.

"Here," I said, walking up to her and taking her arm. She flinched again, but didn't pull away as I pulled a pen out my back pocket. Good thing it didn't fall out whilst I was in the pond. I wrote my number on her arm and the wrote my name under it with a heart and a smiley face. "In case you get lost again," I added, winking at her.

"What's with the heart?'' she demanded.

"I'm lovable," I said on a shrug.

She gave me a dubious look, but didn't push it. "What about the smiley face?"

"To remind you to smile every day," I said triumphantly. "Might make you less cranky."

She narrowed her eyes, but decided not to comment again. "Okay," she said slowly. "I'll be going now. Thanks again for helping me find my way."

"Oh, you know. Just British hospitality." I grinned at her.

She rolled her eyes and opened the front door to her flat. "Right. Well, bye Harry."

"Bye, love," I called. I heard her sigh as she closed the door and I chuckled. I turned and shoved my hands into my pockets, a smile on my face as I walked away. Overall a productive day, if you asked me.

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