Harry’s P.O.V

Dr. Grey led me into her office and shut the door behind me. Without a word, I plopped down on the loveseat, laying back and hitching my feet up onto the sofa arm. I was so tall that my legs hung off at the knee. I rested my hands behind my head and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for Dr. Grey to take a seat in the chair behind her familiar desk. This whole place was familiar.

“Well,” the therapist said, arching an eyebrow as she sat down. I turned my head to look at her. “Well,” I agreed, nodding slightly.

“That was quite the act you put on,” she said, gazing at me smugly. I narrowed my eyes at her, “I swear, if I find out that you told her—”

She cut me off, “Mr. Styles, I have no intention of telling her that you’ve been here before. It’s—what?—your third time coming here?” She puckered her lips slightly as I gritted my teeth. I didn’t like how smug she was being about this whole situation.

“Yeah,” I grumbled, “Once with Caroline, and another with Taylor.”

She nodded, “And I assume Isabelle knows that you’ve had past girlfriends?”

“Of course she does,” I spat. I was getting really tired of this therapist. Maybe it was time that I found a new one. I just had so much previous history with this one, and frankly, it was starting to feel very uncomfortable. I felt as though whatever I did was being scrutinized and added to previous notes she’d taken about me, and I felt as though she had pegged me as something and was only using these sessions to prove a point.

“You remember our deal, right?” I asked, already annoyed. Dr. Grey nodded, raising both of her eyebrows, “I’m not that old you know. Of course I remember. I tell you everything. I even asked her if she would be okay with it, and she said yes. But she told me that if she didn’t want you to know something, I wouldn’t have to tell you.”

“But you’re going to tell me anyways,” I clarified sternly. She hesitated but then nodded.

I pointed a finger at her, sitting up, “I want to know everything about Isabelle. I want to know her fears, her desires, her most private things, and her most intimate thoughts about me. Do you understand?”

Dr. Grey nodded once more. Geez, she was really annoying me with all of this nodding. “So,” she cleared her throat and reached for her notepad, “Is there anything you would like to tell me about you?”

I reached forward and snatched the notepad off of her desk before she could get a firm grasp on it. “No,” I said, holding it out of reach, “There is absolutely nothing. Just tell me everything that went on about Isabelle.”

And so the therapist did. She explained Isabelle’s whole situation, and I was oddly happy to find out that it had been everything she’d already told me. I felt as though I was gaining her trust. You’re ripping her trust to shreds right now, my subconscious added in a snarky tone.

Shut the fuck up, I retorted. I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling my fingertips brush against the headband resting comfortably in my hair. I had to admit that my subconscious was right. What I was doing was so wrong. I was betraying my girlfriend, asking the therapist to spill all of her secrets to me. But I was doing it to help Isabelle. That was a good enough reason. I was sure of it.

Dr. Grey explained how Isabelle used to cut, her experience with Cameron, how she coped with her mother’s death. She basically recited word-for-word what had gone on in their little session. I would just nod and hum, gesturing for her to go on. Twenty minutes passed before she finished.

“And that’s it,” she said, pursing her lips, looking guilty that she just betrayed one of her clients, “That was our entire conversation.” I nodded, soaking it all in. My girlfriend used to cut. She was raped, and then a short while later, her mother died. God, she was so strong. I tried putting myself in her position, but I couldn’t even imagine how she was able to quit cutting and go on with her life.

“She’s so perfect,” I whispered, not realising that I said this out loud. Dr. Grey nodded, “She’s definitely a keeper,” she agreed, and my head snapped up.

“You will not mention any of this to her,” I sounded out clearly, trying to mold the words into her brain. She nodded, “I won’t. I know that it would be violating my contract.”

“No shit,” I spat, and I stood. I was making my way over to the door, about to leave, when Dr. Grey’s voice sounded from behind me.

“Don’t you want to know what to do?”

I turned around slowly, smirking, “What to do? I’m Harry Styles. I know exactly what to do.”

Dr. Grey shook her head, a glint in her eyes, “You’re cocky Mr. Styles. That’s a huge weakness. You don’t even know what I was referring to.”

“Oh, please enlighten me,” I said sarcastically. She pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to retort something, but then sighed, saying, “I was referring to Isabelle’s condition.”

“And what would that be?” I asked, getting more and more tired with this conversation as it went on. What about her condition? She didn’t even have a condition! She was completely fine. Wait, no she wasn’t. What the hell was I saying? There was a reason that I’d booked these sessions, and I was blowing them off like they were nothing. What was wrong with me?

“Her condition,” Dr. Grey snapped, “Is that she’s not ready to engage in sexual intercourse yet. She’s still too damaged from the incident with her ex-boyfriend.” I clenched my fists at my sides, “Don’t you ever bring that bastard up. Don’t you ever.”

“May I continue?” she asked dryly. I was about to say some smart-ass remark but then argued that this was far more important. I nodded once, curtly. She sighed, going on with saying, “All I suggest is the little things first. Small sexual gestures. Nothing huge, because trust me, you will only set her back. Next week is our next session. I suggest doing small sweet gestures for now. In fact, do nothing sexual at all.”

“You mean like, take her out on dates?” I asked. I sure as hell could do that. I had absolutely no problem with that. I loved Isabelle, and I don’t care if it took one hundred years to finally have her become comfortable with sex, I would wait.

“That’s sweet,” Dr. Grey said, and it was only then that I realised that I’d said this out loud. I rolled my eyes, really not wanting to spend any more time with this therapist.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, “Don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my image.”

“Are you always this rude?” she asked, glaring at me. I shrugged innocently, “Not to people I like.” The doctor simply rolled her eyes. She knew how I felt towards her. I didn’t necessarily hate her, but I wasn’t worshipping the ground she walked on either. I just felt as though she was an annoying old lady who needed to give people space when they asked for it. I know that makes no sense, she’s a psychiatrist, but I didn’t give a flying shit about it. She was pestering me, simple as that.

“Whatever,” I grumbled, turning towards the door, “See you next week.” Or not. Depends if I got a new therapist that I actually liked. I wrenched open the door and plastered a smile on my face, so that Isabelle wouldn’t ask questions. I could hear Dr. Grey following me, her footsteps echoing down the hall behind me. I gritted my teeth but kept my grin intact.

It was finally when I rounded the corner that I didn’t have to force my grin to stay up. There was Isabelle, sitting on the chair, picking at her nails. Her face was concentrated into a deep frown, and she didn’t even acknowledge that I was there. It was only until I managed to quickly swoop her up into a bridal-style pose in my arms that she laughed and smiled at me.

“Hey,” she giggled, and I kissed her cheek lightly. I set her down and turned to Dr. Grey. “It was nice meeting you again,” I said cheerily. Dr. Grey smiled warmly and we shook hands. Her hand was cold. It wasn’t nice and warm, or soft like Isabelle’s. I retracted my arm as soon as possible.

“Bye,” Isabelle waved, smiling lightly, and we exited her house. Quickly making our way to my car, I helped her in and then crossed to my side, revving the engine and backing out of the driveway. I wanted to get as far away from this house as possible.

In the car, I finally dropped the smiling act, scowling as I drove along the road. Apparently, so did Isabelle. She sighed and stared out the window, resting her chin on her hand. I shot glances at her from the corner of my eyes. She was so beautiful.

“You alright?” I asked cautiously, and she turned to me slowly, nodding. “Yeah,” she said, “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” I said, and without warning, I pulled the car over. Isabelle stared at me, shocked, “What are you doing Harry?” she asked; her voice slightly panicky. I shifted the car’s gear into ‘Park’ and unbuckled my seatbelt so I could turn towards her.

“What’s wrong baby?” I asked, reaching out to touch her face. She leaned away from my fingers, so that they only brushed against her cheek. Hurt flashed through my body and I frowned lightly. “Nothing Harry,” she sighed, keeping her seatbelt on and turning away from me.

“Hey,” I said sternly, “Don’t give me that crap. What did she say?” She turned her head slightly in my direction, “Why do you automatically assume that it was the therapist?” she scoffed, blinking rapidly. I had the faintest suspicion that she was trying to hold in tears. That just made me even more determined to get an answer out of her.

“Because I know it’s true,” I said softly, “Look, I thought the whole point of this was that so we could communicate better with each other? We can’t do that if you’re like this.” She sighed again, “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face me, and I smiled at her, feeling as though I would finally get a response.

“What’s wrong Belle?” I asked softly. She closed her eyes, “Do you think that I’m using you as a rebound?” she suddenly blurted, and then she blushed deeply. To be honest, I was very taken aback at the question. “What?” I asked, very surprised.

“Do you think that you’re my rebound?” she repeated, biting her lip. Tears welled in her eyes.

“No,” I said sternly, “Of course not. Look at me—,” I grabbed her chin in my fingers, bringing our faces close together. I nuzzled my nose against hers and smelled her all too familiar vanilla scent. It had been a while since I’d acknowledged it. I’d been around it often, yet I never got sick of it.

“—I know that I’m not your rebound, okay?” I told her, trying to sound as sincere as possible, because I was, “I know that you really love me. And I love you too. So, so much.”

“I just wanted to make sure you knew that I’m not just using you. I—I don’t want to be like him,” she whispered, her hot breath fanning my face. I knew that she was referring to her ex-boyfriend, that fucker.

“I know,” I told her empathetically, and with that, I pressed my lips to hers. Her mouth molded against mine perfectly, and my hands trailed down from her face to her hips. I pulled her closer to me, somehow managing to lift her body over the middle console of the vehicle and onto my lap. She tugged on my curls and I moaned into her mouth as she grinded her hips down onto mine.

“I love you so much,” she whispered to me, and I smiled at her. “Ditto.”

We both dove back in, our mouths attacking each other relentlessly. I reached for the zipper on her jacket, slowly tugging it down. Finally her jacket’s front was open, and I slowly began pulling the material down her shoulders. She didn’t stop me.

I was just beginning to feel excited when her elbow hit the horn on the steering wheel. There was a loud honk and we were wrenched apart, both surprised at the sudden noise. We stared at each other for a few long moments, both of us breathing heavily, before we began to laugh. Isabelle pushed some fallen curls off of my forehead and secured them under my headband. I smiled cheekily at her and she returned it before making a move to climb off of my lap and back into her seat. When she was sitting comfortably, I kissed her sweetly on the lips once more before saying:

“I’m taking you out tonight. We’re going on a date.”

Notes

I have 150 subscribers! Thanks so much guys! I'm so happy right now, and this really made my day, especially since I was already having a shit day as it is. But now it's all better, so thank you guys for that! <333

So what do you think about the chapter? This is a new side to Harry: spiteful, sarcastic and rude...but it's so hot. Let me know your thoughts!

Anywho, I have a pretty packed weekend, so I don't know if I'll find time to update :/ Hopefully, but if not, I will try for Wednesday or Thursday, it depends on my hella busy schedule :)

Go check out the stories 'Embers' by @OkayItsMomo and 'Falling Hard' by @swedishfan! I like them!

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