Be Your Everything

Harry had advised Alice to pack her bags before they left for her mother's house because neither of them knew or cared how long they stayed - as long as as they didn't miss the train the next day.

The atmosphere when everyone was awake, sitting around the dining table with breakfast set out in front of them, was thick with gaucheness and unease. Even Liam, the less-informed of the 3, knew the risks Harry and Alice were taking by just knocking on the front door.

That's exactly where they found themselves at 11a.m. on a Wednesday morning; waiting for somebody, anybody to answer the door. It looked like no one was home. Fuck. Alice knocked again.

"Lizzy, get the sodding door!" her step-father's voice rang out loudly. She wondered if the whole street could hear. The door was flung open and there a disheveled looking woman stood. There were poorly-conceiled cruises all over her face. Alice almost didn't recognize her own mother.

"Mum?" she breathed, hardly daring to blink.

"Ali," the older woman's voice was a whisper, barely audible. The two flung themselves into each other's arms. "You shouldn't have come," Liz warned them as she pulled back and studied her daughter's face.

"Why?" Harry asked quietly, his brows knitted in apprehension. He had a sneaking feeling he knew what she was going to say next.

"Rick - he's completely lost the plot-"

"I can see that," Alice snapped, her eyes flicking to the barely-conceiled bruise over her mother's right eye.

Her mum's arms dropped to her sides and she sighed deeply.

"Who is it, honey?" Rick boomed from the lounge. No doubt there would be a cold beer in his clutches and a cigarette between his teeth.

Liz flinched at the sound of his voice. Harry felt his blood boil. How could a man, anyone for that matter, harm a woman so that she was afraid to hear him speak?

"Sorry, I've got to go," she said, loud enough for the man to hear. Then she blew Alice a kiss, sent Harry a weak smile, and shut the door. They could hear her muffled voice as she explained away the disturbance. "Just some people selling something. Couldn't get rid of them..."

Harry led a distraught Alice down to the end of the street by clutching her arm. Apparently she had temporarily forgotten how to walk properly. He had to guide her jelly-legs or she might have stumbled into a light post or, worse, in front of an Audi that was driving past at high speed. When he was completely sure they were out of sight from her old home, he turned her to face him. He looked at her eyes. They were totally emotionless.

He gathered her small body in his arms. She buried her face in his shirt and cried. For the first time since her life had entirely gone to shit, she properly cried. She cried for her mother whose life had been ruined by her own husband, for Michael who had been so lovely to her and she had turned away, for her stepfather whose real self was gone and never coming back, for Liam who had been forced to leave his friends and family, but most of all, she cried for herself.

"We should get back," Harry began cautiously after a few minutes of this.

"Why am I so useless?" Alice screamed. She ripped away from him as another sob racked her body. "I should have done something! I should do something now b-but," she stuttered out the last few words and buried her face in her hands, "but I'm a coward."

"You're not a coward," he sighed, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She flinched a little but let him pull her to him yet again. She felt so pathetic, always having to be comforted and assisted. Well, not anymore. Right then and there, in the middle of the road and standing next to Harry Styles, she swore to herself that she would take absolute care of herself for the rest of her life. Alone.
"Fine," she said quietly. She forced her feet to move in the direction of the cottage. It was a tense, silent trek and both parties wished it would end much sooner than it did. The second they reached the front door, Alice began to climb the stairs hastily. However, before she could reach the top, she tripped on her own foot and toppled sideways. The only thing stopping her from rolling all the way back to the bottom was a pair of strong arms holding her in place. An exasperated sigh reached her ears and she lifted her eyes. Harry was leaning on the wall, one leg propped on a stair and the other stretched out in front of him. His eyes were closed and his head was resting on the wall behind him, arms wrapped around the girl in front of him.
He's probably sick of having to save me, Alice thought bitterly. Personally she couldn't see anything in herself worth saving in the first place, but he always seemed to be there.
"Harry?" she croaked, eyes still locked on his face. He looked weirdly relaxed as he cracked one eye to look at her.
"Yes?"
"You all right?"
"Are you?"
"I'm not hurt, if that's what you mean."
"Neither am I," he half smiled and closed the eye again.
Alice shook her head. "Why are you so lovely to me?"
If the house hadn't been totally silent Harry would have wondered if she'd even spoken. Her voice was so soft he had hardly heard her. "I don't know," he admitted, eyes still tightly shut.
"That's not a good answer."
"I know. I just... it's weird."
"Weird?" she questioned with a frown that he couldn't see.
"You are."
She couldn't disagree with this statement but was still confused. "I'm lost."
"So am I."
They sat in silence for a little while after that. Alice relaxed into him as he held her, finally realizing why she liked being around him. He didn't judge her, or ask her why she was hurting. He didn't tell her to stop being difficult, or to stop being upset.

He just let her be.