From The Dining Table [H.S]

Beautiful Boy

Primrose's POV:

*ring ring*

*ring ring*

*ring ring*

"Hello?" I groan, pulling my head off the pillow.

"It's Harry, can you let me in? It's raining." He asks, and I can hear the wind hammering against the phone in the background.

"Okay." I huff, forcing myself out the warm embrace of my bed and into the dark, empty corridor. The wood was scratchy and rough against my bare feet as I shuffled my sleepy self down the stairs.

Rain rattled against the windows, as small beams of sunlight bled through the gaps in the curtains. The house was silent and lonely, and the calming scent of fresh flowers was drowned out by the fire lit in the living room. Making my way to the door, I felt a shiver sprint down my spine as goosebumps invaded my skin. I was only wearing a jumper and little pyjama shorts - Harrys room was always so warm.

Unchaining the lock, I pull down the handle, and open the door to reveal a very soaked Harry, wrapped up tightly in his coat. "Come in, H. You're soaked." I laugh, stepping aside for him to come in. However he doesn't move. "Harry? You'll catch a cold if you stay out any longer." I reach forward to take his arm and bring him inside.

Harry darts his arm down and wraps it tightly around my wrist, applying an exorbitant amount of pressure - immediately stunting my circulation. "Ow! Harry, you're hurting me!" I desperately try to squeeze my arm free of his hold, however he doesn't budge.

"What are you doing, Harry?" The pain was agonising, I could feel my pulse throbbing against my wrist bone. Harry dragged me out the door and into the pouring rain. My body was close to his chest - I could feel his breath against my cheek. It was cold and sharp.

Reaching up, I grabbed his hood and tugged it down, revealing his dark, drenched face. He was looking down, causing his hair to hang lowly in front of its face - shielding his eyes from me. "Harry!" I yell, trying to snap him out of whatever trance he's in.

"Who's Harry?" His voice rasps. It's low and croaky - very thick. The annunciation of letters isn't the same as Harry. The tone isn't the same as Harry. The accent isn't the same as Harry. This isn't a joke Harry would play on me.

This isn't Harry.

The mans head slowly raises, and at that very moment I felt my breathing shut down all together as my eyes stared at someone I never thought I'd see again. His face was stubbly and chubby, and his thick, messy eyebrows hooded over his grey eyes. The same smell of beer and tobacco invaded his breath, sending shockwaves to my stomach.

He began to drag me down the path again, and my bare, freezing feet unwillingly followed behind him. "Stop! Let go!" I pleaded, tugging at my wrist from his grip. Bruising was already developing, as he continued to tighten his hold of me.

"Primrose..." The man whispered.

"What?!" I shouted - confusion and fear taking over me.

"Primrose..." he repeated.

"What do you want with me?" I began to cry, tears mixing with the rain pouring down my face.