Harry parked outside his house and looked over at Brooklyn who was sleeping peacefully, but she was still shivering slightly. Harry said and quietly got out of the car, walking round to Brooklyn's side and gently lifting her out of the car.
She snuggled into his chest and Harry smiled, kicking the car door shut with his foot before walking up to the large house in front of him. It wasn't late, but it was dark out, so most people were awake and Harry bumped into Kal and Greyson.
Greyson raised his eyebrows and looked at Brooklyn. "Why do you have Brooklyn?"
"Dude!" Kal gasped. "You killed her!"
"She's shaking like a fucking leaf, you idiot," Greyson snapped and Harry just sent Kal (FYI: Kal just fully autocorrected to anal...) a look. "Of course she isn't fucking dead."
"Phew, that was a close one," Kal muttered and Harry shook his head.
"I'm taking her to my room-"
"Why is she here in the first place?" Greyson asked.
"We got into an argument and she got out of the car. I drove off and when I was going to turn back to get her my fucking car broke down so I had to wait until I could get it fixed before I could get her," Harry explained and Greyson scoffed, smirking at Harry.
"Dick," he said and walked off. "If she breaks anything she pays for it!" He called and Harry rolled his eyes.
"You left a girl on the side of the road," Kal clarified and laughed. "Man, that's low."
"Fuck off, Kal," Harry snapped and walked up the stairs to his room. He laid Brooklyn on his bed and pulled the bed sheets over her. Harry then sighed and retreated to the chair, slumping down on it and looking at a sleeping Brooklyn.
He didn't expect this to be the first time she was in his bed.
*
Brooklyn opened her eyes and immediately shot up in the bed. "This is not my room," she said to herself and looked around in panic. She quickly checked herself over and squeaked when she realised someone had changed her top. "Okay, calm down," she whispered and glanced around the room. It was quite empty, with only the basic furniture. The carpet was dark and the walls were white.
It seemed cold and empty.
"What do you last remember?" Brooklyn asked herself and racked her brain. "Harry, the beach, the argument, Harry- he drove off! The bastard!" Brooklyn paused and frowned. "He came back."
Brooklyn chewed on her lip and guessed she must be in Harry's room.
She climbed out from underneath the black silky sheets and padded over to the wardrobe, curiously opening it and peering inside Harry's personal belongings. "Black, grey, white, black, cream, black- Oh pink!" The flicked through his dismal coloured outfits and smirked when she spotted one of the only items of colour, a pink shirt.
She couldn't help but think about how good he'd look in that pink shirt.
Brooklyn then wandered over to the door and looked at the door handle, slowly reaching for it and opening it. She stepped out into a long high ceiling hallway and she could hear voices. She looked down the hallway and spotted two people walking in her direction. A girl with dark hair and a male with brown, they both seemed a few years above Brooklyn and the girl was laughing at something the guy said.
They stopped when they spotted Brooklyn and the girl narrowed her eyes in distaste and looked Brooklyn up at down. "How many times have I told my damn brother to send his fucking girls home!" The girl snapped. "Sorry, this isn't a hotel, you need to leave. Don't expect Greyson to call you. All you are is a fuck to him. He doesn't care and he never will, about anyone."
"That hurt," Greyson called as he walked down the hallway and joined Brooklyn who's mouth was open like a fish. She was not expecting this random girl to come out with that. "Right here," Greyson tapped his heart and the guy beside the rather rude girl chuckled.
"Can you send her home," the girl said and flicked her hand to Brooklyn.
"Nope," Greyson shrugged.
"We didn't-" Brooklyn looked towards Greyson with wide eyes. "Me and him- no, we're not, no- Ew."
Greyson arched an eyebrow at Brooklyn. "That hurt even more," he said dryly and the girl raised an eyebrow at Brooklyn.
"Then who the hell is she?"
"I'm Brooklyn," Brooklyn said and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "And I'm not a slut."
"You called her a slut?" Greyson asked.
"No."
"You kind of implied it," Brooklyn murmured.
"I just assumed that you were one of Greyson's girls," the girl huffed. "Sorry."
"If you're not with Greyson then who are you with?"
"Me."
Brooklyn was relieved to hear his voice and she shivered slightly when he stood behind her, the sparks spreading through her body.
"Harry?" The guy questioned. "You don't usually bring girls back."
Brooklyn found herself tense and something flared within her. The idea of Harry with another girl didn't sit right with her.
No, she told herself. She had no reason to be jealous. Why should she be jealous?
Harry placed his hands on Brooklyn's hips. "Her name is Brooklyn, Mac," Harry said lowly. "She's not just a girl. Or a slut, Kirstie."
The guy and girl, Kirstie and Mac frowned and looked between Harry and Brooklyn before glancing at Greyson who nodded.
Kirstie went slightly red and she took a step towards Brooklyn. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to judge," Kirstie apologised. "I'm just used to seeing random skanky girls around the place-"
"Watch it!" Greyson warned and Brooklyn smirked slightly.
"I hope I didn't offend you," Kirstie said.
"She probably did," Greyson shrugged. "She's a bitch."
"And you're a dick," Kirstie retorted and looked back at Brooklyn. "I'm Kirstie, that asshole's sister."
"You didn't offend me, don't worry," Brooklyn assured. "You made a mistake, it's nice to meet you."
"This is my ma- Mac," Kirstie coughed. "Mac, my boyfriend."
Brooklyn smiled at Mac who nodded politely. "It's er... great to meet you and all, but I'd rather it be when I'm not in just a tshirt- wait!" Brooklyn spun round and narrowed her eyes at Harry. "Did you change me! While I was asleep! And vulnerable! And unable to give consent!"
"And that's our cue to leave," Kirstie muttered and her and Mac walked past Brooklyn and Harry.
"Let's discuss this back in the room-"
"No, you changed me!" Brooklyn gasped. "Dude, that's creepy!"
"Good luck," Greyson coughed and followed his sister down the hallway.
"You were in a damp and dirty top and were shaking," Harry explained. "I didn't do anything to you, babe."
"How do I know that? You could've peeked for all I know!" Brooklyn exclaimed and took a step back.
"I didn't."
"How can I trust you?"
Harry grabbed Brooklyn and pulled her towards him. He looked into her eyes and brushed a piece of her wild curly hair behind her ear. "Because you can. You know you can."
Brooklyn gulped. "Even when you left me on the side of the road?"
"You told me to stop the car and you got out of your own accord," Harry shrugged and Brooklyn narrowed her eyes.
"You make me very angry."
"I can say the same," Harry said and gently pushed Brooklyn towards his room and kicked the door shut behind them.
"I don't like you."
"We both know that's a lie," Harry tutted and pressed Brooklyn up against the door. "You infuriate me, Brooklyn."
Brooklyn smiled. "Good."
"You're not very nice," Harry commented.
"Neither are you," Brooklyn said and placed her hands over Harry's and pushed him away from her.
"Wait," Harry scolded and Brooklyn gasped when he pushed her back against the door. He held her firmly, but not so she couldn't push him away if needed. "When you were asleep, you had a-"
"Nightmare," Brooklyn filled in and nodded. "I know. I get them a lot."
"You said... things."
Brooklyn cast her gaze to the ground and nodded. "Yeah, that happens."
"Hey," Harry said sternly and placed two fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to face him. "Talk to me."
"No."
"Babe, I want to help."
"You can't."
Harry cupped Brooklyn's face and softly kissed her lips, pulling away before she barely felt the spark. "I clearly am."
"I... um-"
"You don't even tense when I touch you," Harry told her and slid his hands round her waist and pulled her closer to him. "You're not even scared."
"How do you know that I'm not scared?"
"Because I know," Harry shrugged. "If another guy was doing this you would be scared. I help. I help you."
Brooklyn pursed her lips and looked into Harry's vibrant green eyes. "Why?"
Harry stepped back from Brooklyn and walked over to the bed, throwing himself onto it and putting his hands behind his head. "Tell me about what happened."
"Answer my question first."
"What question?"
"Why do you help?"
"So you're admitting that I help you?" Harry said with a small smirk
"You..." Brooklyn narrowed her eyes and pouted. "Dick," she muttered. "Oh gosh, what about my aunt and uncle-"
"I text them, they know you're safe. So do your friends. I don't think Sasha is too pleased with you however, I think you missed a sleepover," Harry said and Brooklyn sighed.
"Damn," she mumbled.
"Sit down, babe, and tell me about what happened," Harry said firmly and Brooklyn shook her head.
"Sit."
"Don't be so bossy," Brooklyn tutted.
"Sit," Harry repeated and rolled his eyes. Please?"
"Just because you sound so sincere," Brooklyn said sarcastically and shook her head as she walked over to the bed. She sat down and crossed her legs over each other.
"Tell me." Harry's voice was low, gentle. This was a serious topic he was trying to get into.
"Why?"
"Because you need to talk to someone," Harry said.
"And that person is you? The person that left me in the middle of nowhere on the side of the road?"
Harry rolled his eyes irritably. "I came back," he muttered.
Brooklyn looked up at Harry. "I guess you did."
"So tell me?"
"No."
"You told me some things in your sleep," Harry said and Brooklyn frowned.
"I did?"
"You did."
"What?"
"Random bits and pieces," Harry said dismissively.
"I'm surprised you haven't looked it up," Brooklyn said. "You saw a clipping of a newspaper. You could have easily searched it online. It was a big story."
"I thought about it," Harry shrugged.
"But you didn't."
"If I was going to find out more I wanted you to tell me," Harry said seriously and Brooklyn closed her eyes, thinking back to the horrible time in her life.
"I was only 16," she whispered. "It was last year but sometimes it feels like it was last week."
"It's a lot to recover from in just a year," Harry commented.
"I've not recovered," Brooklyn scoffed and Harry nodded slowly.
"I know."
Brooklyn looked at Harry. "You can tell?"
"I don't find you hard to read," Harry said and sat up straight, staring intently at Brooklyn. "However, you put on an extremely good front."
"Practise makes perfect," she said with a weak chuckle and rubbed her eyes.
"You don't have to pretend with me," Harry said. "I don't give a shit what you're like, as long as you're not fake."
"Me not being fake is how I was last night. I was a mess. I was in bits. If I'm not fake I break down."
"Then break down," Harry shrugged. "I promise I won't leave you on the side of the road again."
"Even if I demand to get out?"
"I won't let you," Harry said and smiled ever so slightly.
Brooklyn chuckled and shook her head. "Why are you nice sometimes and a dick at other times?"
"You," Harry said simply.
"You're blaming me?"
"You make me feel things," Harry said. It seemed difficult for him to say. He wasn't comfortable talking about himself. "Things I've never felt before and I don't know what to do. You make me happy, you make me angry... you make me feel all these fucking emotions, Brooklyn."
"So I make you bipolar?" She questioned.
"Seems that way," he murmured and scratched his stubble. "But you also make me calm."
"This is a weird relationship we have going on."
"Relationship?" Harry said and arched an eyebrow.
"Not what I meant," Brooklyn muttered and shook her head.
Harry chuckled and murmured under his breath, "not yet."
"Huh?" Brooklyn asked.
"Nothing," Harry shrugged. Brooklyn frowned and glanced to the window. It was a bright sunny day.
"What time is it?"
"A little after 10am."
Brooklyn nodded and her gaze scanned over Harry's room. "You need to liven it up in here," she said. "It's plain and boring."
"Maybe I like it plain and boring," Harry shrugged.
"You bore."
"I like simplistic things," he said.
"That's boring. You need at least a picture or something to brighten things up," Brooklyn said.
"I can think of a few ways to liven this room up," Harry said and after a few seconds Brooklyn's eyebrows rose and she narrowed her eyes accusingly.
"You thought it, not me, babe," Harry said and shrugged his shoulders at Brooklyn who blushed ever so slightly.
"Shut up," she muttered. "Harry, why do you live with Greyson?"
"Lots of people live in this house," Harry said dismissively.
"What about your parents?" Brooklyn wondered and Harry tensed and his already cold eyes hardened.
"They're not around," he snapped and Brooklyn frowned, slightly taken aback.
"Oh," she whispered. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "We both have a sensitive topic."
"Then I'm going to tell you what you told me, you need to talk to someone," Brooklyn said with a small smile and Harry's mouth twitched.
"And that person is you?" He asked.
Brooklyn shrugged. "I'm a good listener. I may be a gossip, but I can keep secrets."
Harry stared at Brooklyn and nodded slowly. "That's good."
"Can you? Keep secrets?"
"I think I can manage," Harry scoffed, smiling to himself like he just cracked a joke.
"Then talk to me, if you want."
"Ladies first," Harry urged and Brooklyn shook her head, stiffening slightly.
When she was with Harry it's like she fell into a trance. She liked him when he wasn't being a dick, but she knew nothing could happen.
Nothing could ever happen between them. But things kept on happening, and she let them.
She had to stop.
"Not today," she said and stood from the bed. "I should go."
"Will you stay if I drop the subject?" Harry asked and grabbed Brooklyn's wrist.
"I should get home-"
"To what? Brandon? Your aunt and uncle?"
"I..."
"I'm much better company, babe."
"Brandon doesn't make me want to yell at him," Brooklyn said.
"I only do that occasionally," Harry said and Brooklyn glanced at Harry's hand as he linked his fingers with hers. She bit her lip and frowned.
Brooklyn coughed and shook her head, pulling her hand from Harry's. "I should go," she muttered. "I'll see you Monday."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Stop fighting it, Brooklyn," he said.
"I need my phone," Brooklyn said, ignoring Harry's comment. "And please don't pick me up on Monday."
"I'll be there."
"Don't!"
"Try and stop me, babe."