Chapter nine. – Dougie's Pov

Harry stared at the view in front of him. He shook his head in between the mumbling.

"Didn't I say, yesterday, that I was proud of you, Dougie?" he asked quietly, but sternly.

I backed a few steps as he turned around, the anger glowing in his eyes.

I nodded slowly, starting to get nervous. I hadn't seen him so angry in… well, since I joined the band. And it seemed like I had brought out the really angry Judd.

"Then why does my room look like that?" he yelled. I backed even more as I saw him walking towards me. "Answer me, Dougie!"

"I-I-I-I just wanted to have f-fun…" I stuttered nervously. And I'm sure that if Tom would've been home, I would have had a chance to survive. Because Harry would kill me.

"So if I know you right… trashing my room is fun for you?"

"I just wanted to give it a make-over…"

"Why? Dougie Poynter! Why?"

I looked down at the floor, my hands behind my back as I fiddled with my fingers. "I'm sorry…"

"Just go to your room… Please… just get out of my way before I do something bad…"

Quickly I ran off to my own room, locking the door behind me as I threw myself on my bed. For the second time in a long while, I let the tears run down my cheeks.

I knew he had been proud of me. But I just wanted to do something. So I started to re-do his room. Picked down stuff from the walls, put up something other. As I then accidentally tripped, so that a shelf fell – trashing the stuff in it.

I didn't do it on purpose… It just happened.

I placed my head in my pillow, sobbing into it. I didn't want him or Danny to hear me.

And why didn't Danny stand by my side, covering up for me as Harry was angry at me?

Of course Danny wouldn't do a thing like that. He probably sat in his own room – listening to music or just laughing his fucking ass off at Harry was angry at me.

I laid my head down in one of the pillows – my face down – as I then just screamed down in it, trying to release all my feelings. My screams were soon followed by crying.

I wanted to go back to the night before all that. Where I snuggled up in the sofa with Harry. I wanted to be so happy again.

And I hoped my sadness and Harry's angriness to just last for a little while. Not for ever.

I fell asleep by all my crying. And as I woke up later – it was because of a faint knock on my door, followed by Harry's voice.

"Dougs, could you please open the door?" he said.

I sat up in my bed – staring at the door. Why would he want me to open the door? Oh, sure. He probably wanted to choke me, shoot me, hang me, stab me or anything like that. Basically – I would die. I don't think he cared about how. As long as he would get it done.

"Please, open the door!" he tried again. No way. I would never do it. I just don't want to "Dougie, I know you're probably doesn't want to. But please, I just want to talk."

Oh… he can read minds. Can he? Or did he just know me too well? Doesn't matter. I still didn't want to open the door.

"I'll kick the door in."

Okay, it was time to open the door, before he would ruin it.

"What do you want?" I asked quietly as I had opened the door.

Harry's face fell as he watched me. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

I quickly wiped my eyes. "No… I haven't."

"You have!"

"Have not!"

"Shut up. I know you have. I can see it."

"I haven't been crying!"

"Stop lying Doug. I know you have, and you know you have."

I looked down at the floor, then up at him again.

"I'm sorry about your room. I am… I just wanted to re-do it… but it ended up like that, by an accident…" I said.

"It's ok. And I'm sorry for freaking out." He mumbled, wrapping his arms around me.

I rested my head against his chest, sniffing quietly. I shouldn't have cried. I really shouldn't. It wasn't like me. Really not