Madness ➮ Harry Styles AU

A6

Ashley

"I don't want to hurt you!"

Harry's thick, accented voice rang throughout my mind like a bell. The words traveled deep into me, echoing off the insides of my body until I was totally engulfed by his six simple words.

The thought of anyone not having intentions to harm me seemed so surreal, so... artificial. Just like a fairy tale ending, in which you knew would never come true, even though that small, naive part of you wants so desperately to believe it.

And the ground in which I stood proved Harry's words a lie.

I was standing in hell, and even though it was disguised to be something beautiful, its mask could be seen from the inside. Hidden beneath the small layer of beauty, lied it's true form, broken and unsatisfied of what it had become.

This is not "An Institute for the Mentally Impaired", it is a trap. If it was really built to help people like me, then I would have been healed, and left long ago.

Although, someday, I will finally be released. Not because I was cleansed, but because everyone will catch my disease. Now, what most people don't understand is that insanity is very much contagious. Soon enough, It will be determined as normality, since everybody have caught it.

So, the cold hard truth is: Everyone wants to harm me. It is only of human nature to take something precious and crush it in the palm of their unforgiving hands.

Same for Harry. Even as he states that he does not want to, and even truly believes that he is here to help me.

He is only lying to himself.

Half-heartedly I began to laugh at how clueless the man really was.

"It's sad really. How you don't even realize what evil you posses, and that it is all around you."

I state with a small amount of guilt that I am crushing his perception of the things around him.

"You think you're doing something good by working here?" I tilt my head back slightly to let out a dark laugh.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you're doing quite the oppisite."

"No!" Harry spoke.

"I have seen patients come and leave because they have been healed. What I am doing is helping people!" He said with a convincing voice, but I was quite sure he was second-guessing himself.

"Then why am I still here?" The question came out more as a harsh statement.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but then after seconds of thinking, he decided to close it again. He looked deep in thought, pondering over the same question I have pondered over for years.

"I-I.."

"You what Harry?" I snapped at him.

"I-I... I don't know." Harry muttered softly under his breath.

"See, that's the point: you don't know."

I took a few slow steps towards him.

"You don't know anything about me, and who I am, or what I've been through. So how can you convince yourself that you don't want to hurt me? For all you know, I could be the murderer of your beloved father."

A devious smirk overtook my facial features.

Immeadiatly, his head shot up. He look so surprised, so vulnerable. I could see that tears were beginning to form in his glossy, emerald eyes; threatening to spill down his face.

"How did you kno-" Harry choked, his voice cracking.

"It's surprising how thin the walls of this room are, and how fast rumors

travel."

Harry stared at me, astonished. Swirling within his eyes, was an emotion I could not detect, but if I was to guess, it would be hatred. He wiped his glossy irises and took a step closer to me, minimizing the distance between us.

"You want to know why I don't want to hurt you?" He asked the simple question in a harsh tone.

No response was given to him, and he took this as a sign to keep going. The atmosphere was thick, and going more and more tense around us.

"Because as much as I hate to admit it, I'm intrigued by you. Almost transfixed, if that is a good way to put it. I believe you are different from the other patients, and that interests me."

Harry said.

What?

Out of all the things I expected him to say, that was certainly not one of them. It's hard to believe that my image takes up most of his mind, just as his does to mine.

I turned my head towards the ground, avoiding the hard gaze of Harry's jade eyes; which held the emotion I was now familiar with.

What I thought before was to be a look of hatred, I now realized was was a look of interest. I could see it very clearly now, it was sparking within his vibrant eyes.

When I looked back up towards the mysterious man, I noticed he was many footsteps closer to me. So close, that I should have been uncomfortable with it, but for a strange reason; I wasn't.

"I... I don't understand..." I responded truthfully.

How is possible that he is so different from the others? It's almost as if he was insane, just like me.

Could he really be telling the truth? All I've ever been told was lies, so what makes this time any different?

For some strange reason, I believe him. I have absolutely no idea why, but it feels nice to be told a truth. Something that rarely occurs for me.

"You don't have to, you just have to trust me." Harry said softly, as he raised a hand to caress my cheek.

Goosebumps spread like wildfires upon the area I was touched, and I felt a strange warming sensation sweep across the insides of my body.

The sweet, caring gesture was so comforting. A complete unexpected change of events from the harsh argument we were having a few seconds ago.

Harry's angelic face lingered only a few inches from mine, and slowly the length was dimishing. Inches became centimeters, and centimeters became millimeters as I felt his soft, pink lips brush against my own.

In a slow, cautious movement, he placed his lips on top of mine. His hand traveled up from my cheek to the wild mess of tangled hair mounted on my head.

The warmth I felt burned into a fire, melting my body with its scorching heat. It traveled in a quick rush from my toes to the tip of my head, swallowing me in the flame.

All my senses seemed to be invaded by him. The way I could see, smell, hear, touch, and taste him all at the same time was indescribable, and whatever the unnamed sensation was; I wanted more of it.