I walk my way back into the room, holding the plastic bag in my hands. Both my mother and Bret are in their jackets, but Harry stays in his black T-shirt. He stands leaning, his hands behind his back, against the now closed window. I can see the rain drops racing down it's glass, reaching the edge then dropping to the soil. Grey clouds invade the sky, vanishing the light blue that was there before. "Niall won't be coming until later. I invited him to diner." My mom's high pitched voice says over the light pounding of water trying to enter through the glass. I nod, walking over to Bret, picking him up off of the dirty floor, and into my arms. He wraps his legs around my torso and hugs my neck. I hear the soft breaths coming from his small nose and tiny snores. I smile and let his sleep on my shoulder. "Harry, would you like to come as well?" She looks over to the boy wearing all black, flashing him a welcoming smile.
"I would love to, if that would be fine?" Harry looks to me, searching my eyes for an answer. I don't know if having Harry over, allowing him to come into my life is a wise decision. But what much can one last diner do? Who knows, maybe he will become a friend of Niall's. "Yeah that's fine." I say and walk over to my mother, transferring Bret from my hold to her's.
"Great. Harry, can you drive behind me home? The back of my car is bloody overloaded." She says softly over Bret's blonde head.
"Actually, I will walk, I need fresh air." I say, looking out the window into the London rain.
"It's raining! I don't want you sick." She says a bit harsher than before, but I can see the sympathy behind her green eyes.
"I'll walk her home. I've got some umbrellas in my car." Harry interrupts, staring into my eyes, in a dark manner.
I shiver from his glare and try to focus away from him. "Alright then. Walk slowly though. And take the long way Brit. I don't want any cars to swerve. Call me if you need anything." My mother looks back to me and runs her empty hand over my head and down my hair. She kisses the top of my head and smiles at Harry, leaving us alone, again. I let out a sigh and follow my mother's foot steps out of the room. Harry comes after, holding the two mugs, and a cardboard box, holding the three vases and flowers. I lead him down the hall to the elevator, then down to the pharmacy infront of the main parking lot. Harry grabs me by the wrist, making me halt in my steps, almost hitting an old lady wearing a bandana over her white hair. "Wait here. Give me that." He says forcefully, taking the bag of clothes from my hand, putting it in the box. I do as I'm told and sit down on a close bench inside the pharmacy, looking out the waiting window, watching Harry as he walks through the rain towards the parking lot. He doesn't seem to mind the rain as much as most people would. Harry's body disappears from sight as he walks through the crowded lot. I look over to the pile of medicine near the counter. I look back to see a damp Harry, holding his hand out to me. I shake my head and help myself up off the bench.
His hair is trenched. His whole body is. His light milk chocolate curls have become much darker, almost a black color and hang looser than when dry. But he still seems to not give a damn. Once I get up, Harry takes my hand, creating a thin puddle in the palm of my hand. I roll my eyes and shake him off, putting my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. I now regret choosing super skinny jeans. It will be awful trying to take them off once wet. I walk out of the pharmacy and onto the street. There is no one to be seen outside, only a few passing cars. I turn right and start to walk down the wet side walk, squinting, trying not to get water in my eyes. I look down to watch my steps, not wanting to fall or slip. The constant heavy dripping stops over my head and I look up to see Harry holding a Mickey Mouse umbrella over my head. He smiles, looking to the puddles under his black leather boots. I push the umbrella away, not wanting to take his shelter. A frustrated grin appears immediately and he forces my hand back, not letting me get away with what I wanted. "You're not walking in the rain." He says, moving the umbrella closer. I stop in my tracks, and run the other way, away from Harry. I charge down the cemented ground, creating large splashes as I hit the water. It' has become dark out, the only light coming from the cars.
I head down a side street where I used to play. There is a large tree there, which has a path going under it, holding a hollow dry man made fort underneath. I would spend hours a day there, drawing and doing my homework. It wasn't that big, but it was comfortable. I would bring a towel in my back pack to school and go to the tree after the school day was done and sit on the small towel, doing what I pleased.
I reach the tree and try to climb through the small entrance. I slip my legs in and try to slip into the room. There is no way I can fit anymore. I quickly change route. I run home, not taking my mother's word to take the long way. My hair is drenched from the pouring rain and I feel squirmy. I stop by my old school, hiding in a corner, leaning against the burgundy bricked vine covered building wall, closing my eyes, trying to catch my breath.
I feel heat radiating onto my chest, and hot damp breath onto my neck, forcing me to open my eyes. The pitch black sky doesn't allow me to identify the body more than just close to me. A hand takes me by surprise, pressing much too hard against the top of my thigh. I gasp as another harsh touch comes in contact with my body, only this time, on my waist, holding me still. "Harry?" I try to say. I some how know it isn't. It couldn't be. "Tisk, tisk, tisk." A slow, drug flooded sound comes at my face. "It's much too late for a young gal like yourself to be roaming alone." The voice says, running it's body's rough hands up and down my thighs. I close my eyes tight and pray everything will be okay. The prayer doesn't help. The man steps closer, pressing himself hard against me, forcing me to slam into the wall. He pushes his wet fore head to mine, breathing on my mouth. "Get off!" I scream, trying to push him off, but he stands strong, not moving a muscle. "Feisty now aren't ya?" His voice chuckles and pushes my waist to the bricks. I suck in my breath from the impact. He grabs my wrists and starts to place rushed and rough kisses up my arms, making his way to my neck. I punch his chest then again, with all my might, or at least what I have left. It only gets the stranger angrier. "You want to play hard? Huh? Alright let's play tough." I hear him unclasp his belt as he holds my legs in place with one knee.
Head lights come to save me. I recognize the black slick car fast. Harry. The light from his car reveals the man in front of me. His eyes bloodshot. His pupils are dilated and there are scars covering his tan wrinkled face and blood rushing down his nose.
The car door slams shut, and a furious Harry immerses. He brings his large hands to the man's shoulders, thrusting him off me and onto the floor. Harry grabs my shirt and pulls me to his car, opening the back door and pushing me inside. I hear the click of the lock and see Harry walk back to the body on the floor. I hold onto my right wrist as I watch in awe what I see in front of my very own eyes.
Harry's leg smashes against the man laying where he fell. He tries to get up, only to get another hit right on the side of his head. I can see the man staring at Harry's tall figure, speaking. Or at least, trying to. Harry jumps on top of him, and punches him repetitively. The rain washes the blood down the school's paved yard and down to the street, down into the sewers. I press my hands against the window of the car, trying to be set free. I reach over to the front and fiddle with the controls, trying as fast as I can to find the lights. Before I can press them on, I see Harry walk over to the car, leaving the man alone. Harry opens the front door and climbs in, starting the car and speeding out of sight. I climb into the front as he pulls into the back parking lot of Tesco superstore, slamming on his breaks and looking straight into my eyes. I see the worry behind his dark eyes and hint out blood speckled on his neck. Not his own, but the stranger's.
I look to his bloody wrists which hold the leather steering wheel. "Stay here." He says, opening his door and locking it behind him. I glance down at my body. There are rips in my skin and my clothes are torn. My jeans have a huge man made gash on both thighs. I see blood seeping through my long sleeve. I touch my head to only feel a bump. No bleeding, which is good. I look back out the windshield, waiting for Harry to come back. I feel unsafe, even if I am in my home town. I have never gotten into any fights in these streets before, nor have I thought I would. I was obviously wrong. Cars travel down the street, creating light. I watch for any sign of police. I swing my head to my right to see Harry holding a white Tesco bag as he enters the car. He shuts the door and locks it. He presses two buttons on the ceiling of the car, which ignites the lights I had been looking for before. The car brightens up and allows us to see our surroundings.
Harry opens the bag, and tosses me a shirt similar to the one I am wearing, as well as jeans. He reaches inside the bag and grabs a small box of alcohol wipes, and baby wipes. "Here." Harry says, tossing me the baby wipes. I open the box and pull out three sheets, rubbing them on my skin, erasing the blood. "Call Sandra. Tell 'er we went for coffee and we are fine." His husky voice says, passing me his phone, smearing blood accidentally on the screen. "You guys are on first name basis now?" I ask, trying to lift the mood. He winces as he rubs the alcohol over his hands, then winks at me. "Sure are." He says, grabbing a three kid lollipops from the bag. One red, one purple, one yellow. They are the lollipops doctor's give you after a shot or having a check up.
I swipe my thumb over Harry, or the stranger's blood on the screen, wiping it clean, then dial my mother's cell. "Hello?" Bret says through the speaker.
"Hey Bret, it's Brit! Can you tell mom Harry and are fine. We decided to get some coffee before coming home. We will be there shortly. Okay?" I try to say as normally as possible to the phone. I hear my mother cooking in the back ground. I hear pots and pans slapping at one another and the oven fan.
"Yeah. Can you two get some milk? We are out." His small voice comes again.
"Sure thing kiddo." I say in my best American accent and hear him giggle. "Okay bye bye! I love you. Say hi to Harry."
"Alright, bye bye." I reply and hang up. I put the phone in Harry's shirt pocket and continue cleaning myself off. "Can we get some milk? My mother needs some." I ask Harry once I finish rubbing the red off my skin. Harry has already finished cleaning his face and hands much before I do, and I get the feeling Harry does this often. The rain has slowed down to a much more soothing sound. "Sure get dressed." Harry says, taking his phone from the pocket and texts someone. "Where do I change?" I ask, looking out the car in search for a public wash room. Harry point to the back of his car in a Isn't-it-obvious? way. I open my mouth to say how stupid he must think I am but he cuts me off. "I won't look. I'll turn the lights off if you want." I grab the new clothes and climb into the back.
"Shut them off Harry, and pass me your phone." I say seriously. Harry turns around, taking a picture of me and chuckles. "Hey!" I try to grab the phone to delete it, but he holds the device in front of him, out of my reach. I huff and cross my arms. His dimples form again as he turns his wet head towards me. "Stop being a baby Brit." He says, turning back to his texting. I reach over his shoulder and grab his phone before he can stop me, the place it behind my back. "Give it back!" He says, looking for it.
"What are you looking for?" I try to say as innocent as possible.
"My phone." He says, using puppy eyes against me.
"Sorry, I don't have it." I wink at him and his cute sappy sad eyes turn to cheeky dark ones.
"Stop acting so damn innocent, it's making me hard." He says, leaning over.
I stop at once, thrown back. Never in my life had I heard anyone say that to me. I blush at his use of words and push his cheek to face the front. He puts his hand up, pressing the lights off, making the room pitch black. I feel the vibration under my lower back. I ignore the feel and take off my long sleeve. My bra is soaked, which means, since it's white, if Harry turns the lights back on, he may be able to see something. Something. I pull the new shirt over my wet hair and onto my body. It's a bit too small, making it tight against my skin. I kick my converse off and pull my jeans as fast as possible down my legs. The rips created by the violent man helps loosen the tightness of the material, and soon, they are off.
I hear Harry move and I cover my body quickly with the dry jeans. "Calm down Love, I'm not going to turn them on. Stop worrying." His voice calms me, and lets me continue to change. I pull the jeans up my legs. They aren't nearly as skinny as my precious ones, but still fit my body. "Okay." I plainly say. "Done?" Harry asks to make sure. "Yeah." I reply and play with my shoe laces.
"Holy fuck Brit." Harry's voice is breathy and he seems to want to keep something in. "What? Is something wrong?" I ask. He moves closer and stares at my chest. I look down and quickly button up small open buttons that had been revealing my bra. Harry shakes his head, grinning and looks back to the front. I slap his head and allow myself to let it go. I climb back to the front and look at Harry who seems to be fixing his pants. "Can we get the milk now?" I ask, forgetting about what he had seen. He look from his crotch to me and nods, pressing something on his door, unlocking the car. I jump out and close the door behind. I walk to Harry's side, closer than I would normally, and walk side by side into the store. Once we get into the security of the building I walk further from his body. He keeps his eyes fixed on me as we walk to the Dairy section, grabbing two cartons of milk.
Harry pays for the milk and we go back to his car. I direct Harry to my house as we listen to Pink Floyd. We arrive minutes later. Harry pulls into my mother's driveway and parks next to our van. Harry opens the door for me and walks me up the few stairs and knocks at the door. My mother opens the door wide, so we can both enter in unison, then goes back to cooking. I take the milk cartons from Harry's beaten up hand and head to my mothers side in the kitchen. I place the milk in the fridge and decide to go up stairs to my room. I pass Bret's room to see how he is doing, but he is no where in sight. I rush down the hall to my room, stopping when I see him. But not alone. I smile as and walk away, not wanting to interrupt. Bret sits in Harry's lap as he reads Peter Pan out loud to the smiling boy in his lap.