VICE [H.S]

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Aurelia Price

As soon as my body left that building it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, just sitting there listening to the words pouring out Harry's mouth I could feel the trauma that spilt from within the walls. The words still held there like sickly honey,

It was incredibly suffocating,

Yet that minute of tranquillity didn't last long.

Everything's felt weird since my visit, the way I had a sudden feeling of being watched, as though I'm being stalked, eyes following my every move,

You know in horror movies when the 'desperate girl' always says how they feel like there being watched like a fucking hawk or some stupid shit. Yeah well, I'm starting to think that isn't so stupid anymore.

'David' told me I could finish about 10 minutes before Harry's session was over, but even when I left I knew that I was far from over. Of course, Harry left me with the most loving spiteful hate glare as I snuck out the door, it took exactly 8 minutes and me perching against my car with a bottle of iced tea for Harry to storm out of the building causing hellfire.

'I'm done, David, fuck this'

My eyes widen as Harry comes storming out the glass doors, his face nearly red from the steam practically surging out his ears, I immediately run over to him in a quick decision which during my run I decide was the wrong thing to do but I can't do anything about it now. Once I catch up to him I take a moment to look at his face as it scrunches up in aggravation, "The fuck do you want now?" He spits out, words laced with poison.

"um..." I can feel my voice shaking, pull yourself together you loser, "I don't know why I came over here, I mean what am I thinking we don't even know each other... I guess I just," He looks at me apprehensively, his brows furrowed with an unreleased tension as though he's going to pop at any moment. "I- Uh- What. Do. You. Want." he mocks my rambling stalking toward me making me step back cautiously, my back hitting something scorching hot in the process, my arm feeling around behind me finding out it's a car when I hit the wing mirror. I'm sure there's a red trail surging up my neck in embarrassment harry doesn't want to be bothered I was stupid to even think he'd appreciate my concern.

"Are you okay? It seemed pretty heated when I left..." I cautiously approach, his body an inch away from mine as my back is pressed up against the scolding car door, I can smell the sharp cologne coming from him it almost makes me dizzy, he looks at me as though I'm insane, look whos standing in front of me right now Harry. He takes a breath glancing up and down at me with vicious eyes before manually moving me out of his view so I'm pushed to the side, allowing him to open the door to his car I now realise.

"Oh yeah I'm just fucking perfect, but you should know that shouldn't you Goldie because you know all my dark secrets, were at halftime right now, " He says as he's perched over the window of his open car, the thin window probably marking a line into his delicate skin.

"And you should know I haven't said a word all year" I aggressively whisper at him tired of his sickly attitude. His eyes bore into me with a sort of inquisition, he's silent for a few moments before speaking again as he manoeuvres himself to sit in the driver's seat. His car was hot with the heat from the sun blazing down, I almost feel sorry for it sitting in the sun all day.

"And that's how it will be," he quickly puts the car into drive and speeds off not minding my close proximity, I'm sure even if harry had run over one of my toes he wouldn't give a shit. Harry Styles, the big rockstar, the bigger dickhead. But maybe I'm late to the party, maybe being an asshole was always part of a rockstar image. Elvis wasn't an ass as far as I know, nor Freddie mercury. Rip, Freddie's death hit me hard when he died, I remember listening to queen repetitively with my mom singing our hearts out to Somebody to Love driving through our small town in South Carolina. The golden light hitting our truck, we've had money but that truck was my grandads and his old age never let him drive so... I begged my mom to let us have it. Around town, the weird looks of seeing some vintage, rusted truck drive-through spread on everyone's faces but I adore it.