Harry’s POV


I don’t get it. Gemma loves everybody. She just clicks with everyone. I know she’s just being a protective older sister. I know they’re a lot of people who would date me because I’m Harry Styles, but Dakota isn't one of them. She doesn't like me because I'm Harry Styles. She likes me because I'm simply Harry.

Finding Gemma wasn't that hard. I followed her voice to the kitchen where she is now talking to someone on the phone. I knew ordering food shouldn't take that long. She's probably talking to her friend. I guess I can always eavesdrop. I stand near the door and listen quietly.

"Harry's only been dating her a week," She scoffs. A week? I use my fingers and count. Yeah, about a week. "That little c*nt is fooling him so bad. She's playing the sad little girl card. If you saw her, you'd think she's perfectly fine." I shake my head. Looks can be deceiving. "Look, they're probably wondering what's taking so long so I should be going."

I take this moment to open the door and smile. Just act Harold. "Hi Gemma."

"Hi Harry," She smiles and slides her phone in her pocket. "Can we talk about Dakota?"

"Exactly what I came for," I tell her and take a seat at the bar. "Look, Gemma, can you please give her a chance. She's had a rough life already and you aren't helping."

"That's what I was going to talk about," Gemma says and sits down next to me. "I think she's playing you. You're nice, Harry. She's playing the innocent card. She's not really like that."

I sigh and run a hand through my curls, "Gem, you don't get-"

"Harry, listen to me!" She yells. "She doesn't care about you. She's pretending! It's all an act! She's a little b*tch that wants a title and money which she probably doesn't deserve! Why are with her?! Sometimes Harry you're so stupid. She's not what you think."

I hear something squeak and turn. The door swings signalling someone was watching. Sh*t. Dakota. "Gemma. You don't know her-"

"Just look at her!" She says. "Since when does someone to broken wear designer clothes?! She looks like a freakin' model! She is not the broken little girl! She's just using you for money!"

I smack my hand the table and yell, "I made her dress like that! She wears that stuff for me! She fought me saying she looked horrible! It's people like you that made her cut and try suicide! People who think like you are why she hates herself! You don't know her like I do! I love her alright! She is so broken and I don't care."

I flip her off and run trying to find Dakota. My parents yell for me as I make a mad dash for the bathroom. I know she's in there. Please don't be doing what I think you're doing. She means so much to me. I don't want to lose her.

The bathroom comes into view and I pull on the knob. Dammit she locked it. I press my ear to the door and hear her sobs. Key. Key. Key. I turn to the drawer in the table and search for the spare key. Pencil, paper, pen, brush... Key! I push the key through the door and unlock the door. Without care, I leave the key in the door and pull it open. Damn you, Gemma.

With a razor in her hand and blood running down her arm, she's balled in the corner crying. She looks up at me and shakes her head. I run to her corner and sit down to pull her onto my lap. I kiss her temple and hold her close. She wraps her arms around me letting the blood soak my shirt.

"She's right, Harry. I don't deserve you," She sobs. "I don't deserve anything."

I shake my head, "It's the other way around. I don't deserve someone so unique. You're like none of the other girls. You know reality it's surreal. You don't expect a parade of gifts or a whole concert dedicated to you. You are one of kind and I'm just a copy to everyone."

"Harry?" She sniffles and I hum in response. "Can you sing for me?"

I nod and clear my voice.

"They don't know about the things we do
They don't know about I love yous
I bet you if they only knew
They would just be jealous of us
They don't know about the up all nights
They don't know I've waited all my life
Just to find a love that feels this right
Baby they don't know about
They don't about us."

She's calmed down and wipes her tears. "How about we clean your cuts?" She nods and I carry her to the sink. I grab the washcloth and wet it. I dab it on her wrists and disinfect them. I run my thumb across old and new slashes and feel tears in my eyes. "Please don't scare me like that again. I don't know what'd I do if if you cut too deep or-" I can't go on with tears streaming down my face. "You're my everything. Please stop."

She pulls me toward her and this time I cry. "I'm sorry," She whispers. "I should've just-"

"Dakota, I love you how you are. I just want you to stop that one. Please," I plead.

She nods, "I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

“Thank you, Dakota,” I whisper and kiss her full on the lips. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

I close my eyes and enjoy having her in my arms. Gemma is wrong. She is true. She is unique. She is an original. She’s working on being confident. I just wish people could be nice for a change. (A/N guess what inspired me to write this paragraph)

“Harry?”

I turn around and see my lovely mother, father, and sister watching us. Their eyes absorb all of the suicidal traits. The blood on my shirt, the razor with drying blood, fresh cuts, and tears on both of our faces. “Still mean what you said Gemma?” I ask with a sad laugh. “Thank you for getting her to cut. Again.” Dakota buries her face in my shoulder holds me tight. “Do you want me to tell them baby?”

She nods, “Just not when I’m around. Can you take me to bed? I’m really tired.” I nod and pick her up.

“I’ll talk to you guys later,” I tell them and take her upstair to tuck her in.

Notes

Look who updated a day early. This girl! Anyways, I know these chapters seem kind of sad as of now, but it'll seem happier soon. Promise. Oh and I made a new story. It's not like this one. It's a bad boy one. It's called Negative. Please read it. Or not. Please. While I write up the next few chapters, comment and tell others about this story.