The front of my brain was yelling at me, telling me to get away from him. To remember all the things he and his friends have done to me. That I needed to stop right now and crush him. That he was no good for me and that he was just using me to get what he wants. That he will leave after he’s gotten what he took me for.
But, in the very back of my mind there was a different voice. It was my own, of course, but it was saying something totally different. It was saying go for it. What could go wrong? He can’t hurt you, he said that himself. So what’s the worse that could happen?
Giving in to the intimate whispers, I tangle my fingers into Harry’s curly hair. He pulled me forward into his lap, being gentle because of my ribs. I feel myself began to come loose. I’ve been so uptight and harsh about everything, I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to be relaxed.
He pulled my legs forward so that they were behind him, leaving me to straddle him. His hands were everywhere. Tangled in my hair, rubbing my back, squeezing my bum. Everywhere he touched was a tingle, a zap of electricity. Something that’s never happened to me before. What does all of this mean?
I begin to panic when he lays me back onto the mattress, moving from my lips to my neck as he arranges himself between my knees. His hand slides up under my shirt, making every good thought I had about him disappear. I can’t. I can’t do this. I grab his wrist, trying to get him to stop but instead he pins my arms above my head with one hand and starts over again.
I whimper, not knowing what to do. What would he do if I told him no? Do it anyway? Or would he try to punish me for my disobedience? If he couldn’t, would he tell one of the other boys to do it?
His large hand runs slowly down my tummy, grazing my crotch. My eyes widened and images began to resurface, the ones I’ve worked so hard to push back. The one’s I’ve built a sturdy brick wall around only for them to be crushed into rubble with one touch.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to calm down. I needed to breath and then take the necessary steps to get out of this. No matter what the cost.
Harry’s hand moves back up to my chest, grabbing one boob and squeezing it lightly. I opened my eyes, my mouth opening in shock. Instead of seeing Harry, I saw Niall. A cruel smirk was on his lips, his eyes glittering with amusement.
“Something wrong, love?” He asked me, stopping his actions.
I felt the scream come out of my throat before I heard it. I scrambled backwards, trying to get away from the boy. I hit the headboard hard, grabbing the pillows to arm myself if needed. I don’t know what pillows would help me with but it’s better than nothing. I stare at the boy, realizing how silly I must look like. I blinked rapidly, seeing the blonde one gone.
Instead, Harry stared at me with his eyes wide as he sat back on his legs. he had his hands up in surrender, seeming to try to calm me down.
“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It’s just me.” Harry said in a calm voice, his tone gentle. His face was soft with concern but he’s eyes were a different story. They were sad, like he has finally realized just how bad they’ve hurt me.
“I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” I say as I try to hold back my tears, shaking my head hard. I pull my legs up to my chest and hug a pillow, burying my face into it as I cried.
“I know.” Harry says, his voice low.
“No, you don’t understand. I can’t do this.” I say, motioning between our bodies. I wipe at my face, trying to stop crying. Harry sat silently, waiting for me to continue.
“I can’t do this. This isn’t right. I just can’t.” I continue to ramble, squeezing the pillow tight to my body. Why is this hitting me so hard now?
“I know.” Harry said, his voice nonchalant.
“No, you don’t know. This can’t happen. You and me, it can’t happen. You’ve done so much to me, you’ve gotten the other guys to do so much to me. I can’t.” I say, blinking my eyes rapidly to try to repress the fresh tears.
“Amelia.” Harry states, making me look up at him. His eyes were bright but his face was sad with a hint of anger. At me? I can’t really tell.
“Yeah?” I whisper, not trusting my voice.
“I know. I’m not asking you to.”