(quick apology—I know I say excuse mistakes all the time, but the spellchecker on wattpad isn't on?? and that's usually what catches my attention because I type really fast, so if there's anything misspelled, please don't hate me. I'm going to try to read over it tomorrow, but I've got orange is the new black to watch. love you lots <3)

SONG(s) FOR CHAPTER: 

♬ Run To Me by Clarence Coffee Jr ♬ 

♬ Cannonball by Kiesza ♬

♬ As Real As You And Me by Rihanna ♬  

♬ Keep Holding On by Avril Lavigne ♬  

CHAPTER 25

♕ HARRY STYLES ♕

THE AGONIZING SENSATION of being controlled was overwhelming as I sat in the tiny boxed room, waiting for the officer to enter. I gripped the sides of the table, hanging my head and blinking quickly. I'm not sure why I always did that, as if blinking rapidly would dissolve the pain, the voices. Perhaps it was merely my desperation of escape that made me believe such a thing was possible.

Sweat beaded across my forehead, coated the back of my neck. My hands were trembling as I firmly held the table, a mixture of my tight grip and my anxiety coursing through me. My leg bounced furiously, my mind racing as I tried to sift the bad thoughts away from the few good ones that stuck around.

Betraying me, my brain rewound back to the street fight. The way I could see my father in each of those teenagers, as if he were there taunting me just out of spite. I thought back to Gemma, and how I found Dad shoving her backwards onto the bed when he thought no one else was home. The anger was still burrowed deep in me, still nestled some place so far down, I would never be able to escape it.

Still looking down, I heard the door click open and shut. Papers shuffled across the table's surface and the metal chair creaked as the officer dropped himself into it. I could feel his stare boring into me, but I didn't want to meet it.

"You okay, son?"

My nails dug into the plastic table, scraping. I pushed down so hard, one of the nails broke and I think it was bleeding. "I... I need... to get out of here."

"I can't let you do that yet." A brief silence. "You sure you don't need any water or something?"

"Grace," I breathed. "Is Grace here?"

My head was throbbing immensely, my hands flying up from the table to rake through my hair. I grasped handfuls, dragged my nails down my scalp, grasped another handful—repeated cycle over and over again.

"The pretty little brunette? I think she just got here. But you've gotta speak with me first," he said, almost gently. I think I was making him nervous, but I couldn't exactly help it.

 Stupid little white pill.

I peeked up at him, forcing my hands down to my thighs where they shook insanely. "I need her," I stammered, still blinking hastily. "Please."

The officer was clearly flustered, but actually using his brain, got to his feet. "Um, yeah, okay. Sure. Just... keep breathing, alright?"

The door clicked open and shut and I was alone again.

I needed more air before I drowned.

Shooting to my feet, I nearly stumbled over the chair as I clutched my chest, clenching the fabric tightly. I wasn't sure if this was an episode or simply a panic attack, but I was far too friendly with both. Neither were desirable, but a panic attack would be preferable. I blacked out during episodes, and I was in no mood to do so.

I leaned against the wall, pinching my eyes shut and doing the measured breathing everyone always says worked.

It didn't.

Ever so slowly, I was slipping.

❀ GRACE WALKER ❀

"Is everyone here blatantly ignorant?" I shouted, pressing my palms into the surface of the receptionist's desk. "He didn't do anything to get arrested!"

"He partook in violent offenses," she answered in a calm, sickeningly sweet voice. "Which also involved minors. A questioning is mandatory."

I huffed in frustrationed, remembering Max's words about how violence could trigger Harry's episodes. A cold fear sent shudders through me. "No, you don't understand." This was an entirely new panic. "He could be in the middle of a severe—"

"You, brown-headed little lady!"

I turned so quickly, I nearly tripped over my own feet.

The officer that arrested Harry, the one with a slight country accent, was hurrying towards me. He looked anxious and almost a bit frightened. "I need you to come with me," he said, almost breathless. "Right now."

Raising my eyebrow at the receptionist, who rolled her eyes, I jogged over the frantic officer down a narrow corridor painted an ugly brown. He stopped outside a door and opened it, leading into a small area with a one-sided mirror where you could see into the room. It wasn't hard to spot what was going on.

"I don't know what to do," the officer said. "He asked for you, so I figured you knew what's happening."

I nodded, leaving the officer and swiftly moved into the boxed room. I rushed over to Harry as he slid down onto the floor, his entire body quivering as if he has been out in a chilling rain. His head was in his hands, bringing my back to where I had found him in the psychiatric room.

"Hey," I whispered, pulling his hands away from his face. He had been on the verge of drawing blood from scratching.

Harry responded by dropping his head onto my chest, uneven breaths leaving his lips. I did the only thing I could think of: wrapped my arms around him and ran my fingers through his hair. I tried not to think about how uncomfortable it was sitting on the hard tile, focusing more so on how he was slowly relaxing.

I swept his hair out of his eyes, making sure they were still open. He lifted his head, grabbing one of my hands and lacing our fingers, gripping it tightly. I pressed a soft kiss to each of his knuckles in attempt to stop his shaking.

"I missed my pill this morning," he murmured. His eyes widened a bit as he met my gaze. "Are you mad at me?"

I smiled. "No, I'm not mad, Harry. As long as you take it when you get home, okay?"

He let out a breath and nodded once. "I can't stop shaking," he whispered, lips barely moving.

When he went to look down at our conjoined hands, something must've caught his eyes because he stopped eye-level with my neck. His eyebrows furrowed, a glint crossing his eyes I couldn't quite catch. My hand flew to my neck subconsiously, confused as to what infuriated him.

His jaw tightened as his eyes ran over my face to the scratch I could still feel, and then down to my neck again. He tentatively grazed his fingers over the skin and that's when I winced, knowing a bruise or something had been left. Harry yanked his hand away so fast, you would've thought I burned him.

"They grabbed you by the neck, too?" he grumbled, voice so low I hardly heard him.

Seriously subconscious now, I was rubbing my neck as if my touch could erase the marks. I shrugged some, the answer already being obvious without audible confirmation. I remembered the one in the hoodie who gripped me, thinking he was being cute when he tried to land kisses on my skin. I hadn't thought he'd left a mark, even though it had been a little sore.

Why had society stooped so low?

"I'm okay," I said hurriedly. "I promise. And besides, look at you. You've got a bruise on you cheek, Harry." Gently, I swiped my thumb across it, heart aching.

He was breathing a little heavier again, but he didn't argue.

"Since I promised to take my pills, can you promise me something?"

Brows creasing, I nodded. What could he possibly need me to promise that I hadn't already? He knew I wouldn't leave him. He knew I wouldn't give up on him. What else was there?

"Don't let them send me back there," he murmured, resting his forehead against mine and closing his eyes. "They make me feel trapped and weak and I don't like feeling trapped and weak. Promise me, please."

I kissed his nose. "I promise."

He kissed my lips.

The officer opened the door and groaned. "You already scared me half to death. No need to be disgustingly cute."

Harry smirked against my mouth before pulling away. He went to stand, hauling me up with him. "Sorry, sir. Will these questions take long?"

The officer smiled and shook his head.

Harry let go of my hand to sit across from him, but his hands were still shaking.

★ ☆ ★ ☆

Jacob was rambling when the police finally let Harry go and we reentered the lobby. "Holy crap, there's media everywhere outside. I'm flustered; I can't go into the spotlight flustered."

Harry held up a hand to silence him. "Calm down, Jacob. Grace called Josh while we were in there and he's going to drive up front."

It was when he spoke that I noticed Gabriel was still there. "Are you alright?" he asked me, eyes actually looking the slightest bit concerned.

I forced a smile. "I'm fine. I'll be better once we're out of here."

"They locked the three teens up," said Gabriel. "The two you knocked out were fine and now they're waiting for their parents."

Jacob shook his head and scoffed. "I'd like to speak with their parents in a dark alley."

I gave him a little nudge. "Hey, for all you know, they could've raised their kids right. Those boys could've just fallen into the wrong crowd. It's an unfortunate yet realistic possibility."

"Still their offspring," he argued.

I shrugged in response.

Hearing a car honk outside, we turned to see Josh pulling up, trying to scoot people out of the way without running them over. It was annoying how many of them were hovered by the door, snapping away with their cameras. I know it was only their job to do so, but there were plenty of world crises out there people needed to know.

In another perspective, I suppose you could call three teenagers attempting to assault a woman in public was a world crises. Often people didn't think that sort of thing happened in such a degree, and though rare, it was sickeningly very possible—as it had been proven so.

A few police officers helped weave us through the mass of people towards the car, keeping them back and out of reach. We slipped into the car, Gabriel said a quick farewell to each of us, and then we were going our separate ways.

"So," Jacob murmured, twisting his hands. "Is he approved?"

Harry smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Until he gives me a reason not to."

I scrunched my nose. "I'm with Harry. But he just... doesn't seem like your type."

Jacob rolled his eyes, waving his hand as if shooing a fly. "Yeah, yeah, I know he's all big and intimidating and stuff, but he's literally the epitome of a teddy bear. He even likes kids, which makes up for my hatred towards them."

Harry and I laughed before continuing small talk the rest of the way to my apartment.

He walked me up to my room, as per usual. I could hear Audrey inside talking rather loudly, so I didn't bother opening the door quite yet. Firstly, I thought it best not to interrupt her in case she were arguing with a certain someone. Second, I was still worried about Harry.

"You sure you'll be okay?" I asked him. "I mean, I know Jacob is there and all... but will you be able to still go with me back home?"

Harry gave me a look, his eyes looking almost amused. "Grace, I'm fine. I promise, yeah? I still want to go with you."

Acting like a mother, I raised my eyebrows at him. "Okay. But what are you supposed to do when you get back to the apartment?"

He rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. "Take my pill, yes, I know."

I got to my tip-toes and pressed a kiss on his lips. "It's nice to know you listen to me."

He pulled me into his chest, arms tight around my waist. "It's nice to know you care."