Back For You (Harry Styles)

{BOOK 1- COMPLETE} Meet Amabel Walker, the girl who kept everyone else out, who put up walls to protect herself from another accident, like the one that caused her hideous scar on her neck. She’s bitter and doesn’t let anyone in, but that soon changes.

Now, meet Harry Styles. Worldwide boy band hottie. Slighly cocky, but charming and sweet when he needs to be. He’s caring, and wants to help Amabel get back to being her normal, carefree, silly and loving self. Can he get under her skin and make her come out of her dark shell?



12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11

I woke with tear-stained cheeks. I angrily washed them away and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. Why me? I ask myself this everyday. Why did bad things have to happen to me? Why did I have this god-awful scar?

Why did Harry ask me out? That was a completely different matter. It wasn't a bad thing, like all my past experiences. I frowned when a tear rolled down my cheek. I let out a huff of breath and wiped it away, trying to focus on today.

That reminded me, Harry didn't say when he was picking me up. Sitting at the foot of my bed, I shoot him a text.

From: Amabel

To: Harry

What time r u picking me up? :)

He texted back a short two minutes later.

From: Harry

To: Amabel

Whenever you want babe ;)

I laughed out loud at that one, my cheeks flushing slightly. I texted back.

From: Amabel

To: Harry

Don't get ahead of yourself, Styles

From: Harry

To: Amabel

I didn't have to ask you to call me that xx

From: Amabel

To: Harry

Just pick me up at seven. 72 Honey Tree Lane       

I sneaked a glance at the clock and saw that it was only 10:15 in the morning. I was still clean from my shower the night before, so I dressed in a black Daughtry t-shirt and gray skinny jeans.         

As I walked into Starbucks, I breathed in the smell of coffee and cookies and it made me smile. Oh, how thankful I was there was a source of coffee within a 5 minute drive.         

Home half an hour later, I positioned myself in the den with a dozen movies. To pass the day by, I started with the Indiana Jones trilogy. I love them, Harrison Ford is awesome. Halfway through The Temple of Doom, I found Harry clouding my thoughts.        

Did my scar bother him? Did he ask me out of pity? A lump formed in my throat at the thought of Harry finding me repulsive. I spent my whole life covering up the mark, hiding it from people in fear they would hate me for it.        

I threw my hair over the scar, and focused on the movie. It was the part where Indiana and Shorty were trapped in the circle room, and the blond lady had to stick her hand in the hole with the giant bugs in order to save them. I shuddered. I hate bugs.     

I fell asleep at the end of The Last Crusade, and when I woke, it was four. I stood and streched my back. Yawning, I walked into the kitchen, getting more and more excited for my date with Harry every minute that went by. I started a pot of coffee and listened to the radio that was above the phone. While sipping my coffee, I painted my nails my favorite color, sunset orange.         

I blew on my nails, rising and putting my cup away and ran upstairs, humming 'One Thing' to myself quietly. I was in a good mood. Why wouldn't I be? I was going on a date with Harry Styles.        

I was standing in front of my closet, biting my lip, concentrating on picking an outfit. Nervously drumming my fingers on the doorframe, I drew my eyebrows together in frustration. I wish Harry had told us where we are going so I knew what to wear. I didn't want to overdress, and I certainly didn't want to under dress.         

It was only 5 by then, so I had time, so I flipped on Friends, one of my favorite TV shows. My mom poked her head inside my room not that much later, and I'm laughing at something Chandler said.        

"Your dad and I are headed out early. Have fun on your date tonight, sweetie." She said, winking.        

"I will, mum. You too," I smiled and kissed her cheek.        

Harry would arrive in one hour and a half, and since I am not the quickest person to get ready, I found myself in front of the closet again. I sighed and ran my fingers through my blond hair. Damn it Harry, where are we going? I groaned.        

I blushed when an image of him popped into my head. I pictured his dimples, and how his presence made me feel whole. Thinking of his hair, I curled my hair in short, bouncy curls. I applied little makeup, going for a more natural look.      

I settled for brown combat boots that laced up, lightly faded blue jeans, a white shirt where the sleeves that went to my elbows, and a brown scarf that matched my boots. Perfect. I pulled my hair to one side to hide my scar and grabbed my coat and phone, skipping down the stairs.         

As I was applying lip gloss in the hall, the doorbell rang, my heart rate already picking up. I blushed when I opened the door and saw Harry, looking as amazing as ever. When I laid eyes on his green eyes and big smile, I felt safe and alive. There was something about him that made me think that anything and everything was possible, as long as he was with me.         

"You look beautiful." He smirked and took my hand, leading me to his car.        

"You too, I guess." I said, complimenting his black jeans, converse, white t-shirt and black jacket. He laughed.        

The ride to our destination was difficult, I was extremely impatient, but I didn't ask questions. The radio played quietly while Harry drove. Our conversation consisted of nothing meaningful. Just what we had been up to since we had seen each other last, which wasn't much.        

"We're here." Harry said abruptly, and when I looked over at him, he was smiling. He stopped the car and pulled the keys out of the ignition when we pulled into the parking lot.        

We were at the O2 Arena.


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