Broken Pieces

Rose and Harry used to be inseparable. As Rose's older brother, he always looked out for her and they did everything together - not a secret kept from either of them. But when Harry became famous, he practically forgot about Rose. She didn't even receive a text or call from him on her birthday. What happens when the boys take a break from the tour and all stay in the ginormous house that Rose owns and used to share with Harry? What happened to Rose while Harry was gone? Will things go back to the way they were? Or are there too many broken pieces to put the puzzle back together?


20. Click

The next morning I'm awoken by a yell. I open my eyes groggily and shift, already knowing that Zayn's arms around me so I'm careful as to not move too much. Zayn's eyes flutter open and we look towards the sound. 

All of the boys stand in the doorway. Harry looks from me to Zayn and his fists clench, going white. He makes eye contact with Zayn and nods his head towards the hall as if telling Zayn to go out there with him. Zayn looks at the clock - 9:30am and then nods back at Harry. 

"She fell asleep again?" Louis asks, looking at us.

"Yup," Zayn chuckles nonchalantly tightening his arms around me. 

"It's not my fault! I get tired easily," I protest.

"Sure you do," Niall replies.

"Hey, you didn't have nightmares last night," Zayn tells me. I think back to the night.

"I guess you're right," I respond, not remembering waking up crying and screaming like every other night. 

The boys laugh at something that we can't hear and then leave the room. "What was that with Harry?" I ask Zayn. He looks down at me and debates telling me something. 

"Are you still tired?" He questions, avoiding the topic. I narrow my eyes at him and push away from him, climbing out of the bed. I pull my hair up into a bun before leaving my room and heading downstairs away from Zayn. 

"What was that?" I question Harry. 

"Nothing to worry about," He brushes me off. 

"Someone better tell me what's going on," I cross my arms over my chest, my hands starting to shake because I'm angry and nervous. 

"I made breakfast!" Liam's voice exclaims from the kitchen. 

"Harry," I say slowly, focusing on keeping my hands from shaking too much. Zayn descends the stairs. I avoid looking at him in an attempt to stay calm. 

"There's french toast and bacon," Liam tells everyone, coming into the room. I ignore him.

Suddenly it clicks. Why Harry and Zayn were being secretive. Why Harry wont tell me. Why Liam is trying to distract me. They're getting ready to go jump Jason. "No Harry," I snap, trying to speak past a lump rising in my throat. 

His gaze doesn't turn soft. He has no sympathy for what I feel about this. Instead his fists clench because I'm trying to stop them. "Harry he doesn't mean it," I plead, moving to block the front door. 

"He doesn't mean it?" Harry yells. "That's bullshit. If he didn't mean it, then you wouldn't be covered head to toe in bruises Rose!" He screams. Tears spring to my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. 

"Stop it Harry!" I growl.

"Stop what? Stop trying to defend you? Stop trying to get back at the guy who hurt my sister?" He gets in my face. 

"Suddenly being related means something to you? Because I'm hurt?" I respond, anger flooding through me. 

"What are you talking about?" He screams. 

"Harry," Zayn warns, coming over to us. Louis and Niall come as well and pull Harry away from me. Zayn leads me towards the stairs. He tries to pull me against him.

"No!" I push him away. "You're just as bad," I exclaim, sprinting up the stairs and slamming the door to my room right before I lock it and sink down to the floor in a ball, allowing the tears to fall silently. 

I run to get my box and sit on the bed, pulling out the razors and fully marking up both of my upper thighs once again along with my wrists. I cut for each thought, Harry leaving, not being here, not answering, never replying, watching interviews alone, each bruise from Jason, every fake I love you, Zayn's fake trust, all of the boys, all of the boys going to Jason, and so much more. The thoughts keep coming and the blood keeps running. After a while the blood starts to drip so I make to the bathroom where there is tiled floor. 

About half an hour later, I get up to take a shower. There's blood all over the floor and I feel lightheaded. But my thoughts are numb and nothing seems that bad right now. 

My legs and arms sting under the hot water, but the pressure feels amazing on my back, but my head is fuzzy and hard to think through. I spend about twenty minutes under the roaring waterfall before climbing out and heading back into my room. 

I slip into a grey long sleeve T-shirt, and black sweat pants along with a black zip up jumper. I walk back into the bathroom and clean up all of the blood from the floor and getting rid of the evidence. 

My head vision is blurry around the edges and my cuts took longer to stop bleeding then they normally do. I cup my hands under the water and drink a couple of handfuls. My head doesn't clear up at all and actually seems to get worse. 

I stumble back to bed and pull the duvets over me right after I shove my box behind the stuffed animals in the cabinet. Immediately I pass out underneath the warmth of the covers and can't bear to stay awake any longer. 

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