Broken Pieces

Rose and Harry used to be inseparable. As Rose's older brother, he always looked out for her and they did everything together - not a secret kept from either of them. But when Harry became famous, he practically forgot about Rose. She didn't even receive a text or call from him on her birthday. What happens when the boys take a break from the tour and all stay in the ginormous house that Rose owns and used to share with Harry? What happened to Rose while Harry was gone? Will things go back to the way they were? Or are there too many broken pieces to put the puzzle back together?


24. Always Comes Back to This

In the morning I gently unlock Zayn's arms from around my waist and climb out of bed. I head downstairs and sit on the couch. Now that I'm actually thinking again, I'm filled with rage that the boys beat up Jason. Now, when Jason gets better, he'll come after me again and I won't come back. 

I wait for all of the boys to head down which takes about an hour and a half. "Good morning!" Niall yells, entering the room with a plate filled with crepes on it.

"How many times did you hit kick or punch Jason?" I ask him flat out. His grin instantly disappears and he just studies me. 

After a couple of minutes he answers me saying only a few times. I leave him alone after that and wait for everyone else. 

When Harry and Zayn come down Niall shoots them a gaze which makes them both stop walking. "Why did you have to jump Jason?" I question Harry. Harry looks at Zayn and Zayn looks at Harry. 

"Harry," Zayn places a hand on Harry's shoulder. 

I feel my hands start to shake. 

"He hurt you," Harry spits through gritted teeth.

"Lots of people have hurt me," I reply. "Why'd you have to beat the crap out of him?" I inquire. 

"Are you seriously DEFENDING him? Rose, he's a monster," Harry raises his voice, starting to yell. 

"I asked you not to and you did it anyways," I reply just as loud. 

"Anyone who defends someone who hit them is stupid," Harry yells. I feel myself breaking down. I gasp. 

"Harry," Zayn breathes, pulling Harry back and sitting on the couch. I brush past Zayn and rush up the stairs, slamming my door behind me and running to where my box is, pulling out the special razor. 

I rip off my jumper and slide off my bracelets, trying to cut before the tears start. I don't pay attention to how many times I do it, but I focus on pressing harder and harder with each drag. 

The tears come anyways, everything over-spilling. My arms are smeared with fresh blood, red covering all of my forearms. 

Suddenly my door opens and I look up to see Zayn standing there. Shit.

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