Isabelle’s P.O.V

“Are you ready?” I heard Harry call from downstairs. We were at mine and Kate’s house, and I was standing in my room, getting ready for our date. Harry had told me that we would be going somewhere with a fancy dress code, so I prepped…a lot.

I was wearing a white, spaghetti-strap dress that clung to my body in all the right places. I liked it because it made me look like I had a figure…and that figure wasn’t the number ‘1’ for a change. My hair was curled. I wore black four-inch pumps and dark eyeshadow. As a finishing touch, I dabbed on red lipstick and took one last look at myself in the mirror. It was fine, I guess.

I didn’t really feel like going out tonight, to be honest. I would’ve rather just spent the night with Harry, talking, watching a movie, whatever. But he seemed really excited to take me out to this fancy restaurant, and I wanted him to be happy. So I pushed my feelings aside and acted excited as well.

I emerged from my room and took cautious steps down the stairs, not really wanting to fall and break something. This past month I’d been in the hospital more than I would’ve liked.

Was it really only a month since I’d met the man I’d fallen in love with? It seemed like so much longer. I briefly flashed back to the day that I’d been helping Harry’s mother, Anne, in the kitchen. She’d told me that there really wasn’t an ideal time to fall in love, and with each day that passed, my love for her son had only increased. I realised that she was right.

Harry appeared at the bottom of the steps, looking absolutely amazing. He wore black slacks and a black button-up top, the collar neatly plied. His hair was pushed back off of his forehead, making his eyes sparkle. They seemed to gleam even brighter when he caught sight of me.

“You look breathtaking,” he breathed, extending a hand. I took it and grasped it tightly, afraid that I would fall. Almost as if the thought had triggered it, I stumbled and grabbed onto his shoulders immediately for support. Our noses brushed, and he grinned, smelling like cinnamon.

“Sorry,” I giggled, trying to find a footing. Once I did, I blushed and finished descending the last step.

I rested my hands on his shoulders, my hands occasionally snaking up to the nape of his neck and playing with the baby curls there. He grinned cheekily at me. “Ready?” he asked. I nodded, biting my lip. He wrapped his arm around my waist and we made our way to the door.

Harry opened the door, and a clap of lightning and flashes immediately blinded and deafened us. Once I blinked a few times, I was aware of the rain that was pelting down outside. Thunder boomed, and lightning flashed, merging with the dozens of camera flashes.

Photographers were practically trying to force their way into my home.

“Isabelle, Harry! Over here!”

“Where are you two going?”

“Isabelle, what’s dating Harry really like?”

Before I could even blink, Harry was dragging me back inside and slamming the door. He shook out his hair, which was slightly damp, and cursed, stomping his foot, “Fucking paps.” I reached for him, “I don’t think they’ll let us go.” I tried to hold in a laugh. He was acting so childish right now, but it was cute.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry snapped, and then pushed past me, making his way up the stairs. I stood there for a moment longer, slightly shocked at his short but sassy outburst, my mouth hanging open, before following him. “Harry!” I called out, wobbling over to the stairs. I had just reached the foot of the steps and looked up as I saw him reach the top and disappear.

I began climbing, but stumbled and gripped the railing. “Fuck!” I screeched, and pulled off the shoes, flinging them down the steps. They hit the ground with a thud, but at the moment, I didn’t give a shit. I turned back towards the steps and ran up, skipping a few at a time. My dress restrained me slightly.

“Harry!” I called out, looking around once I reached the top. The door to my room was closed, and I immediately made my way over to it, opening the door. There was Harry, pacing back and forth, his fingers buried in his hair, still looking extremely sexy.

“What the hell was that all about?” I asked, incredulous. He looked at me, and stopped pacing, before smirking. His smirk then transformed into a smile, and he began chuckling. Soon, he was full-out laughing. My brow furrowed, and I wrung my hands. “Harry!”

“God, you really are dense, aren’t you?” he asked, still laughing. My jaw dropped, and stood there, completely blank. “What?” I whispered.

“When will you realise?” he snickered, but then his laughing was cut off abruptly. He glared at me, fiery determination present in his green eyes. “When will you realise?” he screamed at me. Tears rushed to my eyes before I could even acknowledge them. Harry took a step towards me, towering over me, and his face was pink with anger.

“I’m not good for you!” he screamed in my face, “I can’t give you what you need! All I do is fuck shit up, and you don’t deserve that! We can’t go anywhere without being horded by paparazzi, and frankly, I’m surprised that we’ve lasted this long! Why haven’t you just broken it off with my yet? Why Isabelle?” he glared down at me. There were a few moments of silence between us. “Why?” he screamed again, his voice scratching against the tone he was using.

The tears finally fell, dozens at a time, streaming down my face, my own personal rivers.

“Because I love you,” I whispered, forcing myself to maintain the stares that were being traded between us.

“That’s not good enough!” he yelled, a vein in his neck popping out.

I reached for him, “Harry…”

He stepped back, shaking his head, holding up one hand while the other ran through his hair. “Just don’t,” he said quietly, sighing. He turned away from me, and I just stood there, debating what to do.

“I’m surprised you haven’t broken up with me yet!” I suddenly screeched, the courage that I had gained coming from nowhere. Harry whipped around to look at me, his eyes wide. I shook my head, knowing that my makeup was running, but at the moment, I didn’t care.

“Why haven’t you Harry?” I screamed again, “If anything, I’m the one who always fucks things up! I can’t give you what you want! I can’t have sex with you, or barely do anything remotely sexual with you! I know that you’re sexually frustrated, okay? You don’t need to hide it! Why haven’t you left me yet? All I do is cause drama between us! I’m not good enough for you, and I don’t deserve you! Why can’t you see that?”

It was all coming out now. All of the thoughts I’d been holding in since we’d begun dating. All of the worst fears that I’d kept from Harry, from the therapist, and even from myself.I couldn’t do it anymore. I had finally cracked.

Harry just stood there, his eyes wide and his mouth propped open into a little ‘o’. I wanted to kiss him so badly, but now was not the time. We stood there in silence. I couldn’t stand it.

“Answer me, goddammit!” I screamed, my throat dry, “Answer me—!”

Suddenly, Harry lurched forward. A moment later, I hit the soft down of my mattress. Harry was on top of me in an instant, and I tried to push him off of me, but he wouldn’t have it. I tried kicking, but he sat on my legs and gripped both of my wrists, pinning them above my head with only one of his hands. Fuck, why did he have to be so strong? It really drove me insane. He drove me insane, period.

“Shut up!” he leaned down and bellowed in my face, his nose an inch away from mine, “Shut the fuck up!”

“Why?” I yelled back, equally as enraged, “Because you know I’m right? I’m pathetic Harry! I’m a fucking waste of space, so why do you put up with me?” I tried kicking him off again, but my legs were pinned down. Damn, I was really in trouble now.

“You’re so perfect Isabelle!” he screamed at me, and then his voice cracked. He sighed and closed his eyes, collecting himself. We laid there in silence until he whispered, “So fucking perfect. You have no idea how beautiful, and smart, and funny you are.”

“I’m really not,” I replied, equally as quiet, finding it hard to speak through my tears. All of the anger that consumed me only a moment ago was leaking out of my body, replaced with tiredness and remorse. All I wanted to do was lie down, maybe watch a movie, and cuddle up to him. I was simply exhausted.

“I’m not good enough for you,” he whispered, snapping me out of my thoughts, “And you deserve better. But I’m too selfish to let you go.”

The hand that wasn’t pinning both of my wrists down came up and wiped the waterworks off of my face. His thumb came away black, and I cringed, thinking about how terrible I must’ve looked.

“Don’t you dare,” he snapped, glaring at me, “I know that face. You look so beautiful right now, you have no idea.” Dammit, even when I was mad at him, I wanted to kiss him. He always made me feel better.

“I look like a raccoon,” I mumbled, and we both chuckled weakly. What the fuck was wrong with us? One moment, we’re yelling at each other, and then next, we’re laughing. My life was majorly messed up.

“We’re so fucked up,” Harry whispered, reading my mind. I nodded, trying for a smile. He leaned down and kissed my forehead lightly, his lips feeling like feathers. I shook my head,

“Please,” I whispered, “Kiss me properly.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned down, his hand letting go of my wrists. Without warning, his lips smashed down onto mine, and I slowly brought my hands up to tangle in his hair. I felt my tears on his face, and he moved from my lips to my cheeks, to my nose and my forehead, his lips a flurry of pleasure. I kissed his neck and reached for the belt buckle on his pants, but his hands were suddenly there, gripping my wrists. I stared up at him, confused.

“No,” he said, “Dr. Grey said not to do anything sexual this week.”

I impatiently rolled my eyes and gripped the collar of his shirt desperately, “Screw her.”

He chuckled, “Actually, I’d much rather screw you,” he grinned and I giggled, but his face once again grew into the same serious mask, “But I can’t. You have to understand that I’m doing this for you.” His voice was so beautiful and raspy, his throat dry from all of the screaming. It sounded like pure sex.

“Then stop talking,” I whispered. He cocked an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Because that makes me want you even more,” I answered simply, before touching my lips to his again. We kissed passionately, and after a few moments, the kiss melted into something tender and less fiery, but no less pleasurable.

“I love you,” I whispered to him when we broke apart. He smiled gently at me, “I love you so much more. I love you so much that it physically hurts.”

I giggled again and he cleared his throat nervously, “I’m sorry that we couldn’t go to the restaurant.” He looked away, ashamed of himself.

“Hey,” I touched his cheek, guiding him to look back at me, “It is really okay. To be honest, I didn’t even want to go,” I whispered like it was some big secret. He broke into a wide grin, “Really?”

I was puzzled, “Yeah, why?”

“Because I didn’t want to go either,” he whispered just as dramatically. I threw my head back into my pillow and laughed. “How about we watch a movie?” Harry asked after my giggles had died down. I smiled at him and kissed his lips tenderly once more.

“That would be amazing.”

Notes

I just love the chapters where they fight. It gives me something dramatic and fiery to write about. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope that you enjoyed reading it! :)

Sorry for the long wait! This semester is really hard, and I have many things to do, but I will try to update as quickly as possible!

That awkward moment when you're trying to pull up the covers on your bed and accidentally hit yourself in the face...

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