Enticing Charm

"W - what?" My chest feels like it might explode, my heart starts beating wildly. Take them out? I knew little about medical procedures and treatments, but I knew stitches were not to be wet if they were knew, and don't hurt unless they're taken out in good time. Not two days after being put in.

Liam swiftly stands and takes my wrist assertively in to his grasp.

"What the fuck do you mean? That's going to hurt like shit!" Harry snaps at his friend who seems much more serious at the moment.

"They're wet and full of puss, if I don't clean it she'll get a blood infection." He reasons, pulling my closer as we sink in his words. "I can't clean it out with the stitches in the way.. I need to take them out."

That is all I needed to hear.

"NO! No, that will hurt so bad! DO not touch them!" I squeak, I begin to claw at his strong hand that is firm on my bone.

Liam does not reply, instead he turns his somber face towards Harry and raises a brow and gives his head a small gesture my way.

They can not be serious.

Suddenly a warm arm is wrapped around my waist. My head feels like and my vision shakes lightly as paranoia and anxiety creep in.

I'm going to have an anxiety attack.

And these boys will see it if they try to touch me.

Harry spins me to face him.

My face snaps up and I can feel my eyes bulge as my chest pounds loudly. His green marbles are stern yet sorry as his arms hold me tightly to his chest.

"Harry, please, don't let him do this!" I whimper, my hands push his chest lightly in my small ad scared attempts to get away. I see Liam in the corner of my eye pulling out a few medical things.

They can not be serious.

"Just relax, pigeon, it's OK. I'm here." He purrs in my ear, as he attempts to pull me in to a hug. But I know him to well. I know what he is doing. He is trapping me so his friend can cut me open!

What if he nicks an artery? What if he cuts me? What is the stitches won't get out? What if I get a panic attack and can't calm down? What if I already have an infection? Will they let me die? Will they bring me to the hospital?

I shake my head rapidly and push harder against him, trying to be free of his sinful hands and arms.

"No! No! No! Please let me go!" My voice is raspy and starts to raise and not sound like my own and Harry can tell as his face turns more and more sorry. I start huffing on my air as my panic attack swarms through me. I shove his chest and start to feel belligerent.

"Baby girl, it's OK. It will be really quick. I'm right here." his muscles are no match for me and he crushes me to his hard chest.

"OK, Olivia, I need you to lie down." Liam says softly, pulling the quilt back.

No. No.

Everything from this point feels hot on my skin, it is hard to explain a panic attack. Mostly I feel so scared and rushed and well, panicked. My heart races so fast it hurts and adrenaline surges through me. I start in a light sweat. My thinking impaired and my actions are not left up to me but up to my panicked brain.

Harry takes my upper arms and pushes me backwards, forcing me to walk as I claw and slap at his arms.

"Harry, please!" I yell, slapping his chest roughly. Harry kneels on the pillows and then pulls me on to my back so my back and head are rested on his chest and lap. His strong arms wrap around my chest and pin my arms.

I thrash my hips and kick my legs and yell at them like a trapped and wounded animals.

"LET ME GO!" I cry out. Keep in the tears. No tears! Do not cry! I yell at myself.
Liam puts an arm on my waist and locks me down like a bar. I shake my body ferociously and try to catch my breath but the boys won't release me.

"It's OK. I'm here! Just breathe!" Harry whispers in my ear, wrapping his hand in my own. But I do not want any of this. I shake my hands away from his own and he drops his head on my shoulder, his lips gently trail down my skin but I cower away and thrash.

My sweater is lifted an inch above my navel and Liam pulls a doctoring scissor out of his case. I gag on my air and begin to choke. My lungs are on fire and I can not catch my breath.

Then he puts it in to my skin.

He digs it lightly under my skin and pierces the pussy, watery, blood mixed, threaded patch of skin that is pink and inflamed.

The pain is hot and sharp as he cuts both my skin and the thick stitches holding my stab wound together. It's shocking and cold yet steaming at the same time. I feel as though I am to be sick. My head pounds.

I scream bloody murder.

"Shh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" Harry whispers. His words would are ls so bittersweet. What once would melt me like butter in his perfect arms, now make me angry. Why is he letting him hurt me? Can e not see how scared I am? How much pain this is?

"HARRY LET ME GO!" I scream, thrashing even harder as Liam continues to assault my stomach.

I am ashamed but I do not care at this moment in time. I cry.

I cry hard and long and ridiculously like a small child.

Harry holds me tight and kisses the rears and whispers kind words in to my ear but I do not listen to him.

It takes a long time to cut each inch of the battered skin open and then yank the thread out. At one point I stop fighting and just cry. I can only imagine the nasty car that will forever be placed along my pale skin.


If I ever get out and return to dance. Each ballet practice in my dance tops, it will be shown, whenever I go swimming it will show. Every time I change I will be reminded of Tyler and Harry and this terrible house.

Liam does not put knew stitches in. He wipes the blood away and wraps it in a light, tight, bandage. He says something about swelling and drying but I do not listen.

The second his strong arm unlocks my hips I rip myself from Harry's arms and scramble away form the two of them.

"Olivia!" Harry calls for me and reaches for my arm but I jut away and jump from the bed. I feel embarrassed for crying and screaming. I acted like a child. It was un-ladylike of me and I do not wish to be seen by him at the moment.

When I hear him jump down and follow me I break in to a run and lock the bathroom door in his face before he can reach me.

He calls for me but I do not answer.

My panic attack ripples through me in how waves of anxiety. I rage war on my lungs. My body shakes and tremors as I hug myself.

The only one to have ever calmed me down when it was this bad was my Niall. But he was not here. My side aches terribly as I make my way to the edge of the tub and sit down.

Harry bangs on the door. I do not answer nor open it. I am angry with him.

I need to take my anxiety medication but I do not know where it is and I do not wish to see Harry.

I sob in to my hands and hug my arms. Calm down. Breathe, do your breathing. Relax, you are fine! But my body and brain disagrees.

"OPEN THIS DOOR OR I"M COMING IN!" He bellows.

"L - leave me al -lone!" I cry, glaring at the door. I hope for Liam's sake he has left the room so he is not forced to listen to all of this bickering.

Then the lock clicks. My head snaps up up as the door flies open and a very distraught Harry charges in.

"Olivia, whats wrong?" He stammers as he takes in my shaking body.

"BESIDES THE FACT YOU JUST BUTCHERED ME? I AM HAVING A PANIC ATTACK." I take a deep breath as I heave choke on my air. "AND I CAN'T STOP!" I add, tears surface.

I hate it more than anything when people watch me have my panic attacks. More than rude people, more than when my ballet teacher cracks my sickled feet. Even more than I hate math class. It makes me feel so raw and naked and bare.

He quickly crosses the room and kneels in front of me. His hands on my hips, ignoring my pushes am at his chest.

His green marbles aim on my own. So intense and so dedicated I feel as though a spirit has taken control of my body and kicked my soul out. Leaving nothing but his touch, gaze and eyes. I am nothing but Harry when he looks at me like that. I am butter in his hands, I do his every command and do it oh so willingly.

"Breathe. It's OK. It's OK. It's over!" He whispers, taking my cheeks firmly in his palms.

I listen to his words as though they were a fine scripture stained with old, bitter, red wine.

I nod slowly and his arms ensnare my waist as he pulls himself in between my knees. His forehead on mine, his breath on my face.

"What can I do?" he whispers.

"M-my anxiety p-pills." I whimper. He nods and with our hesitation stands and places his hands under my knees, pulling my thighs around his waist. Heat blushes my face.

My breath is still irregular but has calmed down to quite the extent. My body shakes lightly as he carries me. his eyes on mine. His large hands clamped under my thighs. Unfamiliar feeling swirl in to my stomach as he watches me. Very unfamiliar feelings that feel so right yet so forgein.

Something that I am very used to when being around the one and only Harry.

Notes