Always and Never

Ariel Tanner believed that love was nothing but an illusion, a sick prank your brain pulls on you. But when she meets Harry Styles she begins to question everything she has put together about love. This frustrating boy was the only truly genuine person she'd ever met. How someone like him could even exist blew her mind. Harry, on the other hand, was amazed at how closed off Ariel acted. He made it his mission to knock down the walls she'd built around herself, because behind the flirting and the sarcasm, he got a glimpse of a girl that he wanted to become as close as humanly possible to. But did he really want to know everything behind those walls?


34. Rose

A/N Hellooo! I wanted to leave a quick note to thank you so much for reading my movella! I love you guys! Leave comments and tell me what you think so far, or let me know if you have any questions :3 -Xx

I drank the first bottle in record time, immediately downing the second and third. The alcohol calmed my nerves, mellowed me. I wished silently that I had some marijuana. I tried it once in high school and it totally calms you...

I washed the thought away with another bottle of beer.

When I'd finished all six, I stumbled to the kitchen again to get the bottle of wine that I was saving for a special occasion. Mum's back in town, sounds pretty special to me. When the bottle was halfway gone I set it down on my bedside table, then took one of the empty beer bottles off my bed.

My hand brought the bottle down on the foot of my bed, smashing off the bottom. I admired the glistening glass shards that scattered themselves all over the floor. It made my floor look kinda like the ocean... I was urged to step over it, see if the sand would form under my feet as well, but I was so tired... So I stayed put. 

Finding the sharpest point on the broken bottle, I pressed it to the corner of one of my scars. They were all so faded by now they could only be seen if you knew they were supposed to be there. 

I applied pressure until blood appeared and made a little pool on my arm, eventually rolling down the side and dripping onto my leg. I set the bottle down, feeling sick to my stomach at my action. What the hell was I doing??

I stared at the red liquid against my pale scar. Like a rose on a crooked, white stem. My eyes would not leave the rose, for a long amount of time. Mesmerized. Tears streamed down my face without warning. They stung my cut, I welcomed the pain.

Physical pain was nothing to what has been done to my emotions. I began to relive everything that I never wanted to remember again. My life replayed in my head from the day my father died to the day I escaped that wretched house a year ago. I was too busy sobbing, drunk, cursing when the tears stung my small cut, to notice the pounding at the door.

Soon enough it registered in my slow brain. Harry had gotten the spare key, and was now trying to get in. I threw a new bottle at the door, it smashed into a million pieces. Take a hint Harry, go away.

“Let me in Ariel! I didn't know that it would go that bad!” Harry begged. I knew he couldn't see me but all I did was shake my head. After a few minutes he managed to get the door open. How? I don't know... But he did. 

I sat, curled up in a tight ball on my bed, tears running down my face, 4 empty beer bottles on my bed, one wine bottle on my dresser- partway full, one beer bottle smashed against the door and one beer bottle resting in pieces on the floor. I remained silent as Harry took in the scene in front of him. He looked mortified. Glass crunched under his shoes as he came over to me. He picked me up.

“Put me down.” I growled.

“No, you're coming with me.” He replied, not looking at me. He sounded like he was struggling to control his voice.

“God dammit Harry! Just put me down!” I exclaimed, struggling against his grip. My words slurred slightly, but not that bad. I was good at being drunk. Harry's arms gripped me tighter. 

“Stop Ariel! You're going to hurt yourself!” He ordered, looking at me now. There was pain in his eyes.

“I already have!” I spat, shoving my arm in his face, where the the pale rose was now dry. He looked sick, and for a second I thought that I'd gotten my way, and that he was about to set me down. I was wrong. His head shook slightly, as if to shake off emotion, and then he continued to take me from my apartment.

I grabbed at the door frame before he could shut the door.

“I just want to stay home!!” I began to sob, my fury transformed to sorrow. Harry peeled my hand from the doorway, stepping back just enough so that I couldn't reach it again while he locked up.

“Harry!” I cried, grabbing at his t-shirt. My fists pounded frailly against his chest, most likely not hurting him in the least. I raved and wailed the entire walk down the stairs and to his second car. I'd bet money that I woke up a few neighbors.

Harry!! Put me down! Let me go! I want to stay home! Prick!  Dammit! I hate you! Leave me alone! I don't want to see her again!

Most of the phrases that came from my mouth were these, in a jumbled up order. Some repeated, twice, or three times. All accompanied with sobs. When he finally managed to get me into the car I gave up. I sat, silent, bathing in the emotion.

This car looked more expensive than the other one, even my intoxicated brain could register that. I didn't know what kind it was but it was red, like the my rose. I hope I don't throw up in it and ruin the pretty leather seats... 

He locked the car as he began to drive. So I couldn't get out unless he unlocked the door. Why couldn't he just let me stay home?? I curled up on the seat as he drove down the streets of London.

“I don't want to see her.” I mumbled, my words slurring a bit worse than before

“She went home.” He said. Relief flooded me. Those were the only words we spoke on the short car ride. I walked, this time, not letting him carry me. He tried but I'd protested enough to make him let me walk. I did end up grabbing his hand on the way up the stairs to the door, then up the staircase. He towed me through his room and into his master bathroom.

It tired me, all the walking... He told me to sit on the edge of the tub. I did, relieved to not be standing anymore. He disappeared for a minute, then returned with one of his t-shirts and a very comfy looking pair of fuzzy pajama pants that still had the tag on them. I recognized them from my drawer in his dresser. He set the clothes on the counter, then got a rag wet and walked over to me. He gingerly extended my arm, cringing at the scars that he'd never noticed before. I didn't blame him, they've faded a lot. He wouldn't make eye contact with me as he wiped off the blood and put a bandage over the cut. Before continuing he placed a sweet kiss on each one of white lines on my arm.

“You are beautiful. You are incredible. You are worth the world. Don't you dare, ever hurt yourself again.” He whispered against my skin, then looked up at me. I nodded, a silent promise. He stood up to put the rag away.

“Can you get dressed by yourself?” He asked. I nodded once, standing up, but then I stumbled and fell. Harry caught me before I hit the ground.

“Never mind. I won't look.” He murmured. He kept his eyes on my face as he helped me get out of my smelly tear-stained clothes. When I was into the new pajamas Harry helped me to his bed. I crawled under the covers, getting comfortable. As I began to try to sleep, my brain pondered some of the things that I said tonight, and suddenly guilt washed over me like a tsunami.

“I don't hate you.” I mumbled quietly, almost to quiet to hear. Harry, who sat on the edge of the bed beside me, offered a gentle smile, moving my messy hair from my face and resting a warm hand on my cheek.

“I know.” He replied, quietly, kind of sad sounding.

“And I didn't mean it when I called you a bastard, or a prick. You're not either of those. You're quite the opposite actually...” I continued. He chuckled softly.

“I'm not angry, Love. Not at all. Don't worry.” He assured.

“I'm sorry you had to see me fight with my mum like that. I'm just really, really sorry.” I finally finished, tears once again spilling over my cheeks.

“Shh. It's okay, it's all okay.” He whispered, leaning down and kissing my forehead softly. I sighed, finally content.

“I have to get up early in the morning, would you like to come with to the studio or do you want to sleep in?” Harry asked quietly.

“Don't leave me.” I panicked, latching onto his arm. Way over reacting, but at the moment did I realize that? Of course not. My brain just kinda freaked out... Harry stroked my hair with his free hand as he responded.

“I won't. Never. You have my word.” He promised. I relaxed, releasing his arm.

“Thank you.” I whispered, sinking down into the bed. My eyes closed and I drifted off into a drunk, and exhausted sleep...

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