Dissimulator:(verb)

(used with object), dissimulated, dissimulating.

1. to disguise or conceal under a false appearance; dissemble: to dissimulate one's true feelings about a rival.

(used without object), dissimulated, dissimulating.

2. to conceal one's true motives, thoughts, etc., by some, pretense; speak or act hypocritically.

-

Harry

Pain.

That's what I felt when my eyes flung open. That's what I felt when trying to move a single muscle in my body. But it's what I heard, when the sound of soft sobbing echoed through the room. 

Coming to my sensors, I managed to lift my aching, and throbbing body off the bed. Without even looking at my surroundings I forced my feet to the floor and although, every step sent waves of pain throughout my body; mostly my ribs. I followed the sound of sobbing.

The sobs became louder as I neared a door, I assumed was a bathroom. 

My right hand gripped the cold silver-metal knob.

Turning the handle I opened it quickly before walking in, the sobs were louder now. My eyes followed the direction of the sound. When they fell on her I felt my heart sink.

Joe was sitting near the bathtub with her back against it, her knees bent and rested against her bare chest, and her arms hugging them. 

She's completely naked.

But it didn't seem to bother me. What bothered me was that she's crying, I hope it's not because of me.

Fuck.

Everything that had previously happened between us flashed through my mind, I felt guilty, anger pulsed through my veins. 

How could I be so stupid, and senseless? I already supposedly took her virginity, yet, here I was treating her like a piece of garbage. 

My feet carried me right in front of her, a small grunt left my lips when I lowered my sore body down to her level.

"Joe?" No answer, I seemed to make her cry harder. "Joe?" I tried again, only thing time I place one hand under her chin and pryed it away from her knees. "Look at me."

"No," Came her answer. "I can't do that." With her eyes closed and mouth slightly parted she turned her head away from me.

I watched as a tear slid down her right cheek.

She's so fucking beautiful.

Stretching out my hand, I used my index finger and removed the droplet of liquid from her red cheek. "Please don't cry,"

Finally, she turned her head and looked directly at me. Her blue eyes roaming my face, "It's my fault," Her bottom lip trembles as she released more tears. "I'm sorry Mr Styles, it's my fault y-you got hu-"

"No, don't say that," My hand grapped the side of her face while I used my thumb to remove the falling tears. "It wasn't your fault, I don't blame you."

She briefly closed her eyes before opening them. "He hurt you," a whimper left her throat. "My father hurt you Harry, he could've killed yo-"

"Hey," I leaned across her smaller frame, with my legs now on either side of her body. I used my legs to straighten out her knees, although I know she's completely bare beneath me; I don't look. "You're dad has wanted to beat me for sometime, this was just an excuse for him to do so."

"You don't understand, he saw the video, Harry!" Her eyes diverted to my body spread out across hers.

I studied her face to find she's telling the truth, "Video? What video?"

"In the club-" Her bottom lip begins to tremble again. "That night in the club, when you took my virginity-" A hiccup rose from deep within her throat and left her mouth seconds later. "-He saw us, Harry, he saw it."

Now using my knees to hold my weight, I placed both hands on her face and forced her to look at me. "He saw us?"

She confirmed with a nod, "I watched the video-"

She watched me fucking her?

"-Harry, he was so mad. I've never seen my dad mad like that before, the way he punched you. I-I couldn't stand the sound of his fist connecting with your skin." Tears continued to fall from her blue eyes. I was surprised when she leaned her forehead against mine, before saying, "I'm sorry he-"

"It's not your fault, Joe." I can't seem to wrap my mind around it.

She actually watched the video? Was I rough? Was I hard? Was I gently? Did I ask for permission? Fuck! I hope I didn't use force. 

This time I felt her small hand on my chest, "I enjoyed it-" She enhaled then exhaled, her breath hitting my face. "-At least, that's what it looked like. I-I just, why can't I remember that night!"

"Neither can I," I reminded her and reached for her hand on my chest. "Neither can I, Joe," I repeated. 

My eyes roamed her face, I watched as she shifted under me. Her cheeks reddened more, "Mr Styles, I'm sorry you got hurt and all, but I need to get dressed and I can't when you're--well, sitting on me."

Fuck me sideways. 

"Right, sorry." I quickly removed myself from her body, and stood to my feet. I ignored my lustful side, telling me to take a glance at her naked body. "If you need me I'll be in the bedroom."

-

I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands ran over my aching ribs causing me to grunt. 

Ever since her dad was relocated to London, he's had something against me, well not just me but my entire family. I struggle to understand why. 

I had met him once before, back when I bought a Motel in Sydney Australia. The Motel was owned by a friend of Mr Hemmings, I remember his friend clearly because he was once my friend too. 

Zayn Malik, owner of the Malik Industries international.

"The Children of Detective Hemmings were seen leaving the Police station after Mr Hemmings reportively assaulted Mr Styles two days ago."

The television stole my attention.

A photographer had snapped a picture of Joe and her brother. Joe was looking at her brother while some guy, I'm guessing, a body guard has his hand on her arm. 

"We tried to speak with Mrs Hemmings regarding the incident but she did not return our calls. It is unclear why Detective Hemmings would want to do Mr Styles harm."

"They didn't take long," I heard the bathroom door close. "Stupid media, why can't they stick their nose out of our business? a bunch of fucking immature brats just wanting a story."

I chuckled at her bluntness, instantly regretting it when waves of pain exploded in my ribs. 

The bed dipped and I felt her presence beside me, "Sorry, probably shouldn't make you laugh."

"I'm alright," I turned to look at her.

And damn she's beautiful. 

Joe's blonde hair up in a high ponytail, she wears a loose black skirt that ends just above her knees, a red strapless top covers her chest but reveals cleavage.

"Mr Styles my eyes are up here, I would appreciate it if you didn't check me out." 

I automatically shifted my vision to her face, "Can't help it, you're so beautiful and perfect, Joe."

"No, I'm not." Her head lowers and shoulders fall, "I'm not, Harry," I shift closer to her and wrap my arm around her body. "Please, don't touch me, I don't deserve to be touched."

"Joe-"

"Harry, look at you," She escapes my attempt to comfort her and stands up, "Look at what my dad did to you, why didn't you hit him back?"

I instantly stand up, but she walks away. "Because he's your father, and whatever reason he had to bash me, I respected it."

"He coulda fucking killed you!" Her eyes meet mine. "He coulda killed you," She repeats in a calmer voice, a whimper leaving her lips. "He coulda killed you, why do I feel like it's my fault?"

"I'm alive, Joe," When I reach for her, I expect her to walk away, but she doesn't. So I wrap both arms around her and pull her flush against my chest, again ignoring my aching ribs. "Sure, I might be a little sore, but I'm fine and it's not your fault. If anyone should be sorry here, it's me."

I kiss the top of her head, inhaling her smell. "Joe, I know I've treated you wrongly, I'm sorry for it-"

"Harry-"

"Hear me out yeah?" I feel her nod against my chest, "I was so wrong to treat you that way, I should've fucking asked to touch you, I should've helped you figure out what happened on that night. So please let make it up to you."

She lifts her head as I look down at her, "How?"

"Let me take you out,"

Her lips form a straight line, she escapes my arms and takes a couple steps away from me. "No,"

My heart sinks, "No? Joe-"

"No, Mr Styles, I'm sorry I can't do that." Joe turns her back to me and walks towards the door, "When you're feeling better, you should leave,"

"What are you saying?"

"It's for the best," I catch a glimpse of her face, tears once more slip from her eyes and tumble down her cheeks.

I begin to walk towards her but she puts her hand in the air, "You don't mean that! Fuck! Joe, don't you want to know what happened that night? Aren't you curious?"

"But I am and I do, please, just leave." Her hand grips and turns the door handle, "I'm sorry, I'm doing this for your safety." 

-

A/N:

.....

What is Joe thinking?

What are you guys thinking?