The Dangers of Falling. AU

Amelia Shades has been running from her past for awhile, and never looked back. But while running, she runs into the dashing Harry Styles. He's charming, arrogant, cheeky, and nosy; four of the things she hates. But she feels a certain tug towards him; one that makes her want to lose her nomad streak. Can Harry save her, or is she too far gone?

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6. It's Too Late, It's Too Late.

When I was in the fifth grade, my school took a field trip to a police station. It wasn’t a new place for me; I’ve visited there before, visited for things no kid that age should visit for. I wanted to skip school that day. I didn’t want to go to that place. To me, that place was a horror shack, and it only brought bad things. My mom, she made me go, because I had missed too many school days already. My mom didn’t care about a lot of things, but she definitely didn’t want her kid being a dumbass. Do drugs? Sure, she did them. Drink? Sure, she did that every day, all day. But fail a test or get something less than an A? Grounded. Or worse, depending on how much she’d drank that day.

That day, all the kids were excited. They thought the police station was actually a cool place to visit; but in reality, it was one of the worst places, besides a prison or a jail; unless you worked there. Even then, I’m pretty sure it was a crappy place. Even Ian, little naïve Ian, was excited. I joked around with him, but I went ice cold when we entered the building. And that’s how I felt now.

"Are you going to tell me why we’re here?" Ian asked, pulling his car keys out of the ignition.

"No. It’s a long story." I sighed, dread filling all the crevices in my body.

"Too bad. You’re telling me."

"Look, Ian, I have to get in there. I don’t have a lot of time—"

"You’re wasting time trying to wiggle out of telling me, so you might as well shut up about that and tell me why I had to drive you here." Ian snapped. I narrowed my eyes at him, before shortly summing up what happened more than a week ago. Ian’s face went from disbelief, to shock, to anger. He stayed silent afterwards, and I moved to get out of the car.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Ian’s voice was hard.

"It didn’t come up. And all you would do is get mad and feel guilty, when you didn’t even know I was in this town. There’s no reason to get upset. It’s done, it’s over with." I slammed the car door.

"It’s not nothing, and it’s not over with. They have suspects in here, one of them could be the man that hurt you. How are you not scared? How are you acting like it’s nothing? He could’ve kidnapped you, he could’ve raped you, or worse, he could’ve killed you!" Ian shouted, slamming his car door. I turned to face him, glaring.

"Do you not think I was aware of that? I was aware of that when he smashed my car window, I was aware of that when he chased me down and beat me, and I was aware of that when he had his hands around my throat," Ian flinched, "I’m not stupid, Ian. Sure, I’m scared, but it’s better to pretend this is nothing, or else I might not get through this." I hissed, before grabbing the door of the police station and flinging it open. Harry was in mid pacing, his eyes flying up from the floor to meet mine. He had changed clothes, into a navy sweater that hugged him in all the right places, and loose sweatpants. Harry rushed forward, enveloping me in a hug. I hugged back tightly, burying my face in the crook of his neck. He was warm, he was what I needed to keep this cold feeling away.

"Are you going to be alright for this?" he murmured. I nodded, before pulling away.

"Amelia Shades?" A man around in his late thirties stood in the doorway of a hallway holding my file, and luckily for now, it was still sealed. I nodded, and the man smiled kindly. 

 

"I'm Detective Dan Murray. But you can just call me Detective." He held out a stiff hand, and I stepped away from Harry to shake his hand. 

 

"I wasn’t at the scene, but I got the entire case. I'm here to ask you a couple questions about that night, and we have a few suspects held up that might have been your attacker, and we'd like you to confirm it. Sound like a plan?" A forced smile was plastered on his face. I bet he had a family at home he wanted to go home to; but instead he was stuck here handling a screwed-up girl’s case that wasn't even supposed to be his in the first place. 

 

"Right, of course." My smile was fake as well, but the detective didn't seem to notice as he motioned for me to follow him. 

 

"Detective?" Dan and I both paused as Harry's deep voice rang out. 

 

"Yes?" 

 

"Um, I was wondering if I could come with her." He absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck. Detective Murray glanced down at a sheet, before returning his gaze to Harry. 

 

"You're Harry Styles, correct?" His lips were pursed as he tapped his foot impatiently. 

 

"Yes, sir." Harry nodded. 

 

"You're listed as a witness. So, yes, come along." Detective Murray than led us down a dim hallway. I took a look back, and Ian waved slightly, and I smiled. Harry followed closely behind me. The walls felt as if they were closing in on me; I took deep, exaggerated breaths to calm myself. It was too quiet in here. Shouldn’t there be people bustling around? It suddenly felt hot.

 

"Are you all right?" Harry whispered into my ear. I shivered slightly.

 

"I’m fine." I hissed. "I’m just fine." The statement sounded like it was meant to reassure myself, not him. I was perfectly fine. 

 

You’re not fine. I don’t understand why you lie to yourself… the voice cackled. 

 

Shut up, I shouted in my mind, hoping it would go away. But this time, she answered back.

 

You can lie to yourself. But you can’t lie to me… 

 

I froze in the middle of the hallway. She’s never talked back. She talked when necessary, but she’s never answered me back. Harry bumped into me, holding onto to me to keep from falling. I felt like there was a huge weight on my chest. 

 

"What’s wrong?" Harry asked, spinning me around to face him. 

 

"Nothing, I just—"

 

"Everything all right back there?" Detective called when he realized we were no longer following behind him.

 

"Yeah, sorry, I tripped." I lied, walking quickly to catch up.

 

"Amelia, are you sure you’re ok?" Harry asked. He sounded genuinely concerned, and I felt my heart flutter in my chest.

 

"I’m fine, really. Just was dazing, is all." I let out a shaky laugh to try and brush it off. But by look on his face when I looked back, he wasn’t buying it one bit. I chewed on my bottom lip as we rounded a corner. 

"In here, please." Labeled on the door in block letters was 'Interrogation Room'. I felt chills roll up my spine; and I knew it wasn't from the blast of heat I got from the vent as soon as I entered the room. 

 

"You're not in any trouble, Miss..." He opened up a folder. "Miss Shades. I just need to ask you a few questions about the other night, since you were too delusional too answer them the other night." I nodded as I took a seat in one of the three chairs. Harry sat beside me, and Dan sat across the table from us. The entire room was bare, the dark walls unflattering. A giant window sat off to my right, and I knew people were standing behind it, waiting to hear what I had to say. 

 

"Well, from your records, you're a clean lady. But you've sure had a bad past, haven't you?" I met Dan's look with a cold stare. He wasn't advised to bring this up in front of Harry. I could feel Harry's burning gaze. 

 

"I'd rather not talk about that." I replied harshly. 

 

"Oh, right. But just a quick question: you haven't been diagnosed psychologically with anything, have you?" He asked, leaning forward. I grit my teeth. 

 

"No, I haven't." I leaned forward. "Is this the reason you brought me down here? I believe you brought me here because of the man that tried to jack my car, rape me, and afterwards probably would've killed me. So I don't think you need to be asking me questions about my health or dishing out my personal life in front of a witness, officer, unless you have a warrant doing so." I snapped icily, keeping all eye contact. Dan leaned back, closing the file. 

 

"It's all precautionary." He replied calmly. 

 

"Precautionary my ass." I said coolly. I felt a kick on my leg, and I winced, giving Harry a glare. He glared back sharply, telling me with his eyes I needed to keep my mouth shut. 

 

"My apologies. Can you tell me what happened that night?" Even though Dan had heard it time and time again from Harry, Bob, and Louis, I still retold it. He nodded occasionally, intently listening to every word I dropped. 

 

"Why were you sleeping in your car?" He asked next. 

 

"I had just gotten into town, and I was too drunk when I got out of the bar to drive anywhere, so I slept in my car." 

 

"Why didn't you get Harry to drive you somewhere?" Dan bounced back. 

 

"I just met the guy, I didn't know him, and he was a stranger. I wasn't going to ask someone I didn't know for a ride. That's crazy talk." I explained. Was this guy really that stupid? Or was it the new trend to talk to strangers? 

 

"Yet now you’re living with him?" he asked, and I glanced at Harry. How did he know?

 

"I make friends fast. Harry was being polite to let me stay with him, and I got to know him. He’s one of the few people I know here. So, yes, I’m staying with him until I find a permanent resident." I snapped.

 

"What brought you here?"

 

"I travel."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because I want to, maybe? I’m a teenager, I want to explore the world and see things I’ve never saw. Is that a good enough answer, officer, or do you want to ask why I want to explore the world? Or do you want to know where I graduated from? Maybe you want to hear about my first day of kindergarten!" I yelled, exasperated. Who was this guy? He was irrelevant and off topic, and frankly, it was pissing me off. This had nothing to do with why I was brought down here. 

 

"I'll be right back." He left the room quickly, and I fiddled with the edge of my chair. It was silent the entire time Dan was out of the room, and I was relieved. I knew Harry was waiting to ask his many questions, and my mind raced with what answers I was able to give. I took a chance and looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He was staring at the ground, his arms resting on his knees. His brown curls fell around his face, framing it well. I averted my eyes when he looked up, and prayed silently he didn't catch me staring at him. 

 

"Your story clears out well. We have 6 suspects we've pulled, and we need you to verify which one was the man that attacked you that night. Come with me." I followed in pursuit, and Dan led us down another long corridor. How large was this place anyways? 

 

Harry's warm hand slipped into my cold one, and I quickly jerked away. I didn't want to be touched at the moment. Three or so people in business suits stood in the mirror room when we got there, and they all nodded as I entered. Their name clips identified them as detectives. This time around I was inside of the mirror room instead of outside. I was glad I didn't have to see the assaulter face to face. Well, he didn't have to see me. 

"Take your time." Dan said quietly. I could feel the detectives observing me, and I quickly blocked out their stares. I needed to think. Six men stood on the other side of the mirror, staring blankly ahead. The first man I didn't recognize. His face was too chubby, and he had a beard. I mentally scratched him off my list. Number two was too skinny, and I was pretty sure I could wrap my hand around his wrist and there would still be a hole. Number three; his ears were pierced. A definite no. Number four; grey eyes. I vaguely remember his eyes being brown. Number five was too old. Lastly, number six; he didn’t resemble my attacker at all.

"None of these are him." I sighed, fighting to hold back my tears. The detectives and Harry all looked at me strangely.

"Are you sure, Amelia?" Dan asked, cocking an eyebrow up.

"Yes, I’m sure." I cried out, staring in disbelief.

"I’m just saying, you were drugged that night—"

"I was not drugged the entire time," I yelled, shoving Harry’s hand that reach around to squeeze my shoulder, "I know who I saw, and none of those men are him. You’ve got the wrong guys."

"Okay, okay. I’m just trying—"

"I don’t care. None of them are him. Harry can testify to that." I turned to Harry.

"She’s right." Harry muttered, his voice cold, "So I suggest you search some more, and you find him. The right one. Come on Amelia. I assume were free to go?" Dan nodded, and I allowed Harry to hold my hand as he dragged me out of the room and down the hallway to the front desk. Ian stood up from where he was sitting in his chair, worry etched all over his face.

"Did they get him? Is he arrested?" Ian asked, his eyes flickering between mine and Harry’s face.

"No. They’re idiots." I spat, releasing my hand from Harry’s and storming out the door. The cold wind knocked the breath out of me, but it felt good. This was a good type of a cold; I was relieved to be out of there, so the sick cold inside of me would disappear. I waited patiently as Ian and Harry conversed inside, no doubt talking about my outburst, before they both walked out.

"Are you okay?" Ian asked quietly.

"Yeah. I’m fine." I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

"No, you’re not." He stated.

"Then why did you ask?" I snapped. Ian stayed silent, and I stared off into the distance, refusing to blink. If I blinked, I would cry. I couldn’t cry in front of them. I’ve cried way too much in front of Harry already.

"If you want, mate, I can just take Amelia home with me so you don't have to drive all the way." Harry suggested, and I froze. I shot daggers at Ian, demanding him to say 'No, it's fine, I'll take her', but like usual, Ian did the complete opposite. 

 

"Sure. Thanks," Ian winked at me, "Call you later, Ames." 

 

"Don't expect me to answer." I hissed, and Ian chuckled as he got in his car. Harry put his hand on the small of my back, leading me in the direction of the car. 

 

"I know where your car is." I snapped, smacking his hand away. Harry shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets as we walked. He opened the door of the passenger seat, motioning for me to get in. I hastily buckled my seatbelt, settling in the cold leather. I stared out the window as he started the car, preparing for the boatload of questions I was soon to receive. 

"Are you mad at me in particular, or just at the world in general?" Harry asked as we drove farther down the road.

"I’m not mad." I sighed. Harry glanced over at me, his expression warm.

"I know this is hard for you." He murmured.

"You have no idea." I leaned my head back against the seat, shutting my eyes. I suddenly felt drained. All of this, was the reason why I didn’t stay places for long. If I hadn’t spent the night, I wouldn’t have gotten into this mess. Or, even better, if I would’ve left Harry’s house that first day, I wouldn’t have to go through with remembering and dealing with the police officers, not to mention getting my past brought up. I didn’t want this. What I really hated, was how I could’ve avoided this.

"Where are we going?" I opened my slightly, not recognizing this road as the road to home. God, I was even calling his house home.

"Um, I have a gig at a café, in about ten minutes. I don’t have time to drop you off, so I was thinking you could come with me and watch my set. You don’t have to, you can call Ian to come get you there if you want. I just thought you’d like it, and it might help you get your mind off of some things." Harry coughed, and I smiled at the blush tinting his cheeks.

"Of course I’ll come. I didn’t know you performed gigs, Harry." I smiled, and he smiled back sheepishly.

"I haven’t had one since you’ve been here. Normally I perform here almost every Saturday, but I’ve let up a bit." He shrugged, pulling into an unfamiliar parking lot, where a rather large café sat. It was a dark building, with cracked bricks and broken shingles. The windows were tinted, dark enough to where you could only make out moving shadows. A small sign hung up above the dark door, tilted slightly for effect and the name printed in giant neon letters: "The Café".

"The Café. Very original." I remarked, and Harry laughed.

"Yeah, it’s a bit… basic," he jumped out of the car, and before I had time to grasp the handle, he was yanking the car door open. "If you wouldn’t mind, let me open the door for you. It’s tiring running to the door to make sure I open it and not you." He replied breathlessly. I frowned, but nodded my head anyways. I wasn’t used to guys opening the doors for me. All the guys I’ve dated never did that; it wasn’t like I dated many, but they weren’t exactly gentlemen. Not that Harry and I were dating, but I never had guy friends open car doors for me either. Ian basically slammed doors in my face.

"Anyways, it has a basic name and I know it looks scary on the outside, but it’s nice inside. It’s really cool. A close friend of mine runs the joint." Harry reached into the backseat, pulling out a guitar-shaped black case. I raised an eyebrow as he tugged on my jacket sleeve to lead me to the building.

"You play guitar?"

"Yeah, a little." He smiled, opening the café door for me. I took a deep breath, inhaling the delightful scent of coffee and vanilla. He was right—the inside was completely different from its outside look. The entire room had a dim setting, with golden low lights hanging from the ceiling over the small, purple booths on either sides of the room. Mini silver tables were scattered around the room, with high standing chairs that had a plush purple pillow on the backside. An ordering table sat off to the side, the workers dressed in sleek black button ups with name tags and black holey jeans. Then in the front center of the room was a stage large enough to fit a band, and the wall behind it was completely plastered in all types of band posters. This place was incredible.

"Harry!" a voice called out, and Harry and I both glanced up to see a pretty light dirty blonde walking towards us. She obviously worked here, the only difference was she wore purple holey jeans instead of black. She hugged Harry tightly when she reached him, and I stepped back, the sudden feeling of envy eating away at me. The girl stepped back, looking over towards me. She smiled wide.

"Who’s this, Harry?"

"Oh, this—"

"I’m Amelia. You must be Harry’s close friend he was telling me about." I smiled tightly. The girl shot a glare at Harry, who was awkwardly looking away, a faint smile on his lips.

"You arse, how rude of you." The girl snapped, before turning and holding her hand out towards me, "I’m Gemma Styles, his sister." She laughed, and I shook her hand, suddenly feeling relieved. She was his sister—and the resemblance between them was uncanny. Besides her dyed hair, they had the same face structure, and the same jaded eyes. Not to mention the wide, beautiful smile. I laughed slightly as Gemma punched her brother on the shoulder.

"I let you play sets at my café, and you go and tell people we aren’t related." Gemma teased, rolling her eyes. She turned back to me.

"Is this your first time here?" Gemma asked, her eyes gleaming.

"This is her first time in the city period." Harry explained for me, and Gemma gasped, before slinging her arm around my neck. Harry stared at me worriedly, as if he knew I was feeling extremely uncomfortable. Not to mention I wasn’t a touchy person.

"Oh, darling, you’re going to love it! This place, not just my café, is fantastic! Not to mention you’re hanging out with the coolest kids in town." Gemma smashed her face against mine, sending a wink over to Harry. I tilted my head to the side, gently pushing Gemma away. I didn’t want to be rude to the girl; she was nice, not to mention she was Harry’s sister.

"Gemma, can you cool it? You may be a touchy person, but she isn’t, all right?" Harry rolled his eyes. Gemma smiled softly, scooting away from me slightly. She was like her brother, the smile seemed to never leave her face.

"Get up to the stage, Styles, you’re on in two. So quickly set up, the people are waiting!" Gemma called, before she walked off, yelling an order over at some waitress that passed by. Harry quickly wrapped his arms around me, his guitar case brushing against my back roughly. I hugged back loosely, and then he was gone, rushing up to the stage. I smiled after him.

"Sorry about that, Amelia. I just love new people, especially new friends of Harry’s. He’s my little brother, I still live to annoy him." Gemma laughed lightly, returning to my side. "Here, let’s grab a seat." Gemma led me to a table directly in front of Harry, whom was tuning his guitar as he sat down on a small stool. A mic was placed in front of his guitar, and a mic placed near his mouth. There was no band, it was just Harry and a guitar. Harry smiled up at me softly from his spot, his eyes seeming to shine under the spotlight.

"Have you heard him sing before?" Gemma whispered over to me, and I shook my head.

"He’s lovely. His voice is like chocolate melting over candles. That sounds so awkward coming from his sister, but it’s true." I laughed along with her, our laughter the only loud sound in this room. The entire room was filled with people, but their chatter was low and soft. This place was definitely my favorite.

"Testing? One, two, three, four." Harry’s voice echoed into the microphone, and everyone’s attention was averted to him. He smiled, his eyes making eye contact with everyone, before they landed on me.

"Hello, everyone. I’m Harry Styles, and um, I’m going to be performing a song for you tonight. It’s one of my own, it's called Don't Let Me Go. I hope you enjoy it." I felt my heart speed up in my chest as I stared straight into his eyes. His fingers strummed the strings of his guitar for a moment, and cleared his throat. His eyes met mine once again. 

"Now you were standing there right in front of me. I hold on, it's getting harder to breathe. All of a sudden these lights are blinding me, I never noticed how bright they would be." He began, his voice soft and low. I gasped. Gemma was right. His voice-- his voice was like an angel. 

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