Broken (Harry Styles fan fiction)

Chapter 23

Haven

We laid there wrapped in each other's arms, my body still buzzing. I can't even begin to explain all the feelings running through me right now. I feel like I'm on this high that I'll never come down from. Life seems pretty perfect from here, in Harry's arms, safe from reality.

I always thought the first time would be painful and just horrible but it was the complete opposite. It could have been that Harry was so gentle and attentive and made sure I was alright before he continued anything. I felt nothing but pure pleasure, every touch from him, every kiss, every moan from his lips sent waves of pleasure through me, like electricity running over my skin.

Even thinking about it now is turning me on and making me feel that now familiar ache between my legs.

I curl up into Harry's side, my chest against him, my back exposed to the cool air of his hotel bedroom. His hand running up and down my back.

I feel his hand run over the raised skin of the scar that runs along the side of my back.

I freeze.

So does his hand. Just for a second though before it moves back up and over the scar again. Like he wasn't sure if he felt anything or not.

"Haven, what happened here?" He asks, innocently. Not knowing that my past came with more that just emotional scars.

I guess now is as good of a time to tell him, considering my plan of telling him before we were intimate is shot.

"Um I guess I should tell you about my past, about why I am the way I am," I tell him quietly, getting nervous. I know all my reservations about telling him are silly, but I can't help to still feel that hint of worry that he won't want me after this.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you aren't ready," he tells me softly, continuing to run his hand up and down my back.

"No, it's ok. I need to tell you,"I tell him, shifting so I can sit up. I turn and get off the bed, grabbing Harry's white shirt off the floor and putting it on. You could probably see through it bit I don't care, I don't feel as exposed.

I climb back on the bed and sit Indian style facing Harry, keeping my head down and fidgeting with my hands. I feel Harry shift next to me. When I look up he's sitting up and looking at me concerned.

"I'll just start from the beginning..." I hesitate. My mouth is dry and my heart is beating out of my chest, not the way Harry makes my heart race.

"Take your time, love," he comforts me.

I clear my throat. It's now or never.

"So life growing up wasn't the greatest. My father was an alcoholic and very abusive. My mother never did anything to stop him when he would get into one of his fits. It was scary when he would get drunk. The smallest thing would set him off. I left one of my dolls on the living room floor once and I got slapped across the face for it," I felt the tear fall down my cheek, reaching my hand to wipe it away real quick before continuting, "my brother protected me. If my father was coming after me he would alway jump in and take the beating that was intended for me. Wyatt was always saving me, taking blow after blow my father would dish out for ridiculous reasons. I remember the night he walked out. He said 'I'm done' and slammed the door as he walked out with his one bag. I remember feeling relieved, like I didn't have to tip toe around anymore. I felt truly safe for the first time that day." I pause, taking a deep breath.

"Haven, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you went through growing up," Harry comforts me. He takes my hands and runs his thumb over the back of my hands.