Delirium || Harry Styles

Chapter 10: Switch

I closed my eyes, trying to stop the tears from forming. I was so sick of it; sick of the crying, the holding everything in, the emotional pain piling on my shoulders.

My vision was pitch black at first, but as I drifted off into an unconscious state, everything started to vaguely show its form.

The room had a very familiar vibe to it. Like I had seen it before, there was a strange connection; a connection that I couldn't put my finger on just yet.

Slowly, the details from the room started to vividly appear. There was a kitchen island in the middle, a doorway right in front of it and a fancy stove right behind me. I raised my eyebrow at the whole setting, something about it sparked a memory hidden in my brain, but I was unable to identify the connection.

Moments later, a loud thud came from beyond the wall, in a distance.

Curiosity sparked a fuel to roam and investigate the source of the sound. I walked through the wooden doorway and found myself greeted with another familiar room. It looked like a lounge room, and not far from it stood a stairway connected to the gray-coloured wall.

Another loud thud came from outside, and it seemed like the source was from the front door. I hesitated before I decided to cautiously make my way to the where the sound might came from.

Without any further warning, the front door busted open with the loudest thud I had ever heard. I stopped in my tracks, swiftly hiding behind a coffee-coloured armchair. In came a very tall, muscular man, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his shoulders. He had the look of someone I would classify as a criminal. And he walked in like he owned the place, he walked in like he was completely fearless.

However, he wasn't the only one walking into the house like it was some sort of catwalk for the criminals. A lean Caucasian man, looking all tough and frigid, strided in behind the rather bulky guy.

Something in my mind told me that I had seen these guys before, somewhere, sometime in my life. And I couldn't..... I couldn't recall the exact memory. The memories etched in my head was all too much of a blur.

The two tough-looking blokes started wandering into the lounge and I felt the panic surging into my bloodstream. They both held a gun in their grasp, a spare one latched onto their belts.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath.

I deliberated on whether to move or to stay hiding behind the couch with consternation. The lump of meat in my chest were pumping and pounding rather furiously, and I could feel the rapid micro pulses on my neck.

I took a peek at the men scrawling in the room. They seemed to be looking for something or someone, but I had no idea who they are. Hell, I had no idea exactly where I was, either.

"Where the fuck is he?" the more muscular bloke said, midly annoyed.

"Probably in his room cuddling with that filthy skank of his," spitted the other man, his words bitter. He had this low and raspy voice that I was somehow familiar with, but again, I couldn't exactly recall any connection.

I quickly retracted my head and pressed my back onto the couch. The thumping in my chest was unbearably loud, and I was scared that they might hear it. I didn't know who they were, or what they wanted, but I had this uneasy feeling that what they were up to was nothing close to good.

My hands were trembling, the shaking travelled all over my body and quickening my already unsteady breaths. I tried to calm me down, but the panic was just too real, too severe and too futile to fight.

Heavy footsteps stopped in its track. I could see the tips of a pair of black leather boots parked just twenty inches from the side of the couch. My furious heartbeat dropped drastically as I heard the raucous voice of the brawny guy: