Idiosyncrasy (Harry Styles AU)
Chapter 21
Chapter 21
The beating of my heart is loud in my ears, drowning everything else out like a drum. My knee bounces impatiently and I check my watch frequently.
Who knew waiting for my own father could be so nerve wracking. It was never like this when I lived in Cheshire and visited him. But then again, I was a young naïve kid; I didn’t know my father was such a monster.
I cough awkwardly and look at the door in front of me expectantly. It’s stood unmoving for the past twenty plus minutes, leaving me exasperated and annoyed.
Suddenly, the door at last opens and a man steps out, face red and fists clenched tight at his sides.
“Good luck,” he mutters through gritted teeth, storming past me.
I stand hesitantly, taking a deep breath to compose myself. Who knows? Maybe I could be dead today.
Opening the door a crack, I stick my head in.
“Come in, Harry,” Des mumbles, not looking up from the manila folder in his hand.
I shut the door reluctantly behind me after stepping inside, and then walk up to his desk slowly.
“Sit down,” he commands, still not meeting my eyes.
Great. I caught him when he’s on one of those moods of him. This isn’t going to end well. I contemplate leaving and then coming back later, but I know that’s not really an option.
Des finally sits back after I lower myself into the chair he motioned to and drops the folder on his desk. He picks up a glass with a brownish liquid in it, bringing it to his lips. He gives me a once-over, and I squirm uncomfortably in my seat.
“Rolling stones, huh?” Des comments, referring to my navy blue t-shirt.
I nod, folding my hands nervously in my lap.
“Terrible band,” he mutters, setting his glass back down.
I’m about to answer his rude comment, but he cuts me off. “So, Harry. I like all the progress you’ve made so far with Sandy, it’s really encouraging.”
If I didn’t know my father was a monster, or that he was just praising me for committing a crime, I would have been happy. My father telling me he’s proud of me is something I have wanted to hear my entire life, but he was never around to tell me anything.
I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment. I just want to get this over with and not get killed in the process.
“Yeah, about that,” I start, my palms starting to sweat. “I can’t do it. I can’t kill Sandy.”
It’s eerily quiet for the next few minutes, until I hear the sudden shatter of glass. Looking up from my folded hands at Des, I realize he’d thrown his cup at the wall behind me.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Styles?” he asks, voice monotone. His eyes have turned black and his hands are shaking from anger.
I want out. I don’t want to be here. I can’t die yet.
He pulls put a pistol from his belt. “Because if you’ll just repeat that for me, I can end your life quickly and painlessly.”
My heart leaps to my throat, and I stand abruptly.I can’t utter a word, and I swallow thickly; but the lump in my throat won’t go away. It’s growing, starting to choke me.
My life flashes before my eyes, and I can barely comprehend what’s going on anymore. As if in a trance, I pull my own pistol from my coat pocket, quickly firing two shots at the wall just above Des’ head.
“Not here, not now. If you want to kill me, you’ll have to come after me first,” I whisper, voice shaking as I cock my weapon and aim at his forehead. “I’m not going down without a fucking fight.”
I can kill him right now easily, but I don’t. Something holds me back. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s my father, despite him being a monster. I can’t kill my own flesh and blood as easily as he can.
And as I walk back out toward the door, I realize that the watt with my father has only begun, and I’ve just won the first of many battles to come.
“He’s licking my chin!” Bethany giggles, cradling the small fur ball against her cheek.
I grin, setting Mittens down beside her mother.
It’s been a few days and the vet said we could bring Whiskers and her kittens home. They still have yet to open their eyes, but Dr. Bale said it might be another few weeks until they do.
Bethany has stayed over at my place every night with the kittens and we’ve decided on names for the rest. Mittens, Booger, Hiccup, and Blue.
We named the last one Blue because we’re both anti-red because of you-know-who.
“You alright, Harry?” Bethany asks.
As much as I want to say, “No, why would I be? My douche of a father wants to literally kill me.”; I don’t.
Instead I say, “Yeah.”
Bethany raises her eyebrows.
“Bethany, are we friends?” I blurt.
She looks taken aback. “Of course, Styles.”
I nod, chewing my lip. “Shouldn’t friends have nick names for each other?”
She laughs out loud, setting Hiccup back down next to Whiskers. “Yes, they should.” She thinks for a moment. “What nick names have you been called, Harry?”
“Twerp.”
“You’re annoying. Leave me alone, stupid.”
“Hazza! Turn your music down!”
I swallow thickly. “Hazza. I’ve been called Hazza a lot,” I manage to whisper. “What about you?”
Bethany thinks for a moment. “Well, my name is kind of a mouthful, so we can shorten it to Beth?”
I nod, smiling.
“My brothers used to call me Bambi, because I had such long, thin legs . . . Even up to when I left home two years ago.” she chuckles at the memories.
At least she has good things to remember.
I smile despite my sad thoughts. “Then I’ll call you Bambi,” I say, smirking.
She pouts. “My legs are well proportioned to my body now, thank you very much,” she jokes, feigning anger.
I laugh, standing. “So you have brothers, huh?” I change the subject, ignoring the pain in my heart.
She nods, walking with me into the kitchen. “Yeah, two older brothers,” she sighs, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
I open a cabinet, pulling two mugs out. “You should be grateful for them. They could be gone in a heartbeat.” The last part comes out as a whisper, and I look over my shoulder at Beth, smiling sadly.
“I am grateful . . . They can just be a handful sometimes,” she smiles, looking at me curiously.
I nod, turning away to put the tea kettle on the stove.
“How about you? Any siblings?” she asks.
I freeze. “Uh, no . . . none,” I choke out. “Can we not talk about this, please?”
She nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of course.”
“What’s your favorite place in the world that you’ve visited?” I ask randomly.
“I’ve never been out of England . . . So I guess England,” she says, laughing.
I raise my eyebrows. “Really?”
She nods. “What’s your favorite place in the world?”
I smile. “America. It’s so warm and beautiful there. If I get the money someday I’m going to move there,” I tell her wistfully.
She giggles. “Is London that bad?”
I laugh. “No . . . well yes. It’s just so cold and dreary and I hate the city. I want to go someplace warm and forget all my problems.”
“You should take me with you,” she jokes.
The kettle whistles from be hind us, and I pour water into each of our mugs.
“What kind of tea do you like?” I ask her.
She smiles. “Peppermint.”
“Me too.”
As we sip out tea in silence, my thoughts return to Whiskers’ kittens.
“You’re going to have to help me find homes for the rest of the kittens once their weaned,” I say out loud.
She nods. “I can do that.”
I sip my tea again.
“If,” Beth smirks “you’ll tutor me again. I’ve been failing every exam since you ditched me.”
I grin. “Of course.”
The beating of my heart is loud in my ears, drowning everything else out like a drum. My knee bounces impatiently and I check my watch frequently.
Who knew waiting for my own father could be so nerve wracking. It was never like this when I lived in Cheshire and visited him. But then again, I was a young naïve kid; I didn’t know my father was such a monster.
I cough awkwardly and look at the door in front of me expectantly. It’s stood unmoving for the past twenty plus minutes, leaving me exasperated and annoyed.
Suddenly, the door at last opens and a man steps out, face red and fists clenched tight at his sides.
“Good luck,” he mutters through gritted teeth, storming past me.
I stand hesitantly, taking a deep breath to compose myself. Who knows? Maybe I could be dead today.
Opening the door a crack, I stick my head in.
“Come in, Harry,” Des mumbles, not looking up from the manila folder in his hand.
I shut the door reluctantly behind me after stepping inside, and then walk up to his desk slowly.
“Sit down,” he commands, still not meeting my eyes.
Great. I caught him when he’s on one of those moods of him. This isn’t going to end well. I contemplate leaving and then coming back later, but I know that’s not really an option.
Des finally sits back after I lower myself into the chair he motioned to and drops the folder on his desk. He picks up a glass with a brownish liquid in it, bringing it to his lips. He gives me a once-over, and I squirm uncomfortably in my seat.
“Rolling stones, huh?” Des comments, referring to my navy blue t-shirt.
I nod, folding my hands nervously in my lap.
“Terrible band,” he mutters, setting his glass back down.
I’m about to answer his rude comment, but he cuts me off. “So, Harry. I like all the progress you’ve made so far with Sandy, it’s really encouraging.”
If I didn’t know my father was a monster, or that he was just praising me for committing a crime, I would have been happy. My father telling me he’s proud of me is something I have wanted to hear my entire life, but he was never around to tell me anything.
I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment. I just want to get this over with and not get killed in the process.
“Yeah, about that,” I start, my palms starting to sweat. “I can’t do it. I can’t kill Sandy.”
It’s eerily quiet for the next few minutes, until I hear the sudden shatter of glass. Looking up from my folded hands at Des, I realize he’d thrown his cup at the wall behind me.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Styles?” he asks, voice monotone. His eyes have turned black and his hands are shaking from anger.
I want out. I don’t want to be here. I can’t die yet.
He pulls put a pistol from his belt. “Because if you’ll just repeat that for me, I can end your life quickly and painlessly.”
My heart leaps to my throat, and I stand abruptly.I can’t utter a word, and I swallow thickly; but the lump in my throat won’t go away. It’s growing, starting to choke me.
My life flashes before my eyes, and I can barely comprehend what’s going on anymore. As if in a trance, I pull my own pistol from my coat pocket, quickly firing two shots at the wall just above Des’ head.
“Not here, not now. If you want to kill me, you’ll have to come after me first,” I whisper, voice shaking as I cock my weapon and aim at his forehead. “I’m not going down without a fucking fight.”
I can kill him right now easily, but I don’t. Something holds me back. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s my father, despite him being a monster. I can’t kill my own flesh and blood as easily as he can.
And as I walk back out toward the door, I realize that the watt with my father has only begun, and I’ve just won the first of many battles to come.
“He’s licking my chin!” Bethany giggles, cradling the small fur ball against her cheek.
I grin, setting Mittens down beside her mother.
It’s been a few days and the vet said we could bring Whiskers and her kittens home. They still have yet to open their eyes, but Dr. Bale said it might be another few weeks until they do.
Bethany has stayed over at my place every night with the kittens and we’ve decided on names for the rest. Mittens, Booger, Hiccup, and Blue.
We named the last one Blue because we’re both anti-red because of you-know-who.
“You alright, Harry?” Bethany asks.
As much as I want to say, “No, why would I be? My douche of a father wants to literally kill me.”; I don’t.
Instead I say, “Yeah.”
Bethany raises her eyebrows.
“Bethany, are we friends?” I blurt.
She looks taken aback. “Of course, Styles.”
I nod, chewing my lip. “Shouldn’t friends have nick names for each other?”
She laughs out loud, setting Hiccup back down next to Whiskers. “Yes, they should.” She thinks for a moment. “What nick names have you been called, Harry?”
“Twerp.”
“You’re annoying. Leave me alone, stupid.”
“Hazza! Turn your music down!”
I swallow thickly. “Hazza. I’ve been called Hazza a lot,” I manage to whisper. “What about you?”
Bethany thinks for a moment. “Well, my name is kind of a mouthful, so we can shorten it to Beth?”
I nod, smiling.
“My brothers used to call me Bambi, because I had such long, thin legs . . . Even up to when I left home two years ago.” she chuckles at the memories.
At least she has good things to remember.
I smile despite my sad thoughts. “Then I’ll call you Bambi,” I say, smirking.
She pouts. “My legs are well proportioned to my body now, thank you very much,” she jokes, feigning anger.
I laugh, standing. “So you have brothers, huh?” I change the subject, ignoring the pain in my heart.
She nods, walking with me into the kitchen. “Yeah, two older brothers,” she sighs, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
I open a cabinet, pulling two mugs out. “You should be grateful for them. They could be gone in a heartbeat.” The last part comes out as a whisper, and I look over my shoulder at Beth, smiling sadly.
“I am grateful . . . They can just be a handful sometimes,” she smiles, looking at me curiously.
I nod, turning away to put the tea kettle on the stove.
“How about you? Any siblings?” she asks.
I freeze. “Uh, no . . . none,” I choke out. “Can we not talk about this, please?”
She nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of course.”
“What’s your favorite place in the world that you’ve visited?” I ask randomly.
“I’ve never been out of England . . . So I guess England,” she says, laughing.
I raise my eyebrows. “Really?”
She nods. “What’s your favorite place in the world?”
I smile. “America. It’s so warm and beautiful there. If I get the money someday I’m going to move there,” I tell her wistfully.
She giggles. “Is London that bad?”
I laugh. “No . . . well yes. It’s just so cold and dreary and I hate the city. I want to go someplace warm and forget all my problems.”
“You should take me with you,” she jokes.
The kettle whistles from be hind us, and I pour water into each of our mugs.
“What kind of tea do you like?” I ask her.
She smiles. “Peppermint.”
“Me too.”
As we sip out tea in silence, my thoughts return to Whiskers’ kittens.
“You’re going to have to help me find homes for the rest of the kittens once their weaned,” I say out loud.
She nods. “I can do that.”
I sip my tea again.
“If,” Beth smirks “you’ll tutor me again. I’ve been failing every exam since you ditched me.”
I grin. “Of course.”
Notes
YAY NICKNAMES FOR BETHARRY (ig, if you like that couple name)!And this story is legal in the US!!! xD 21 chapters yayayayay :3
comment what you liked in this chapter (even though its apparent; the cute stuff between Harry and Beth is making me emotional) :')
And also, I'm already writing chapter 30 . . . I'm a little behind on my updating baha. That and I just love to write.
So I'm going to Arkansas on Thursday (maybe), and if I do, then I'm not gonna be able to update until after Sunday next week. I will probably have my iPod though, so it might be possible if I get my lazy ass to write it all out on there.
So sorry for this long ass author's note >.< I love you guys and I'm thinking about making an instagram for this story if it gets enough reads, so READ AWAY AND IM SORRY FOR TALKING SO MUCH BYE. ILY
*NOT EDITED*
@Nat3DirectionerStyles
omg :) thank you so much alksjdhfsk
8/12/14