Captive (Sequel to Infatuation)

Chapter 31

SONG(s) FOR CHAPTER:

♬ This Is Gospel by Panic! at the Disco ♬

♬ I Won't Give Up by Jason Mraz ♬

CHAPTER 31

❀ GRACE WALKER ❀

IT TOOK ME a long set of minutes before I truly processed what was happening. The sound of breaking glass awoke me, but I never intended to stumble sleepily into the bathroom to find Harry appearing as an entirely different person. Such hatred welling in his eyes and filling his face--it was unfathomable for me. Hardly an hour ago, he was playful.

"Harry," I said cautiously, concluding he must be going through one of those episodes. But didn't Doctor Miles say his medication would stop them? Did Harry lie to me about taking the pills? "Are you alright?"

He lost his balance and faltered back into the counter, as if I had pushed him. He glowered at me. Fear swelled in the pit of my stomach. I opened my mouth to speak but he had lunged, gripping my wrists tightly and pressing me against the wall. He didn't say a word, only glared. As if he were imagining he had laser vision and he was burning me into a pile of ashes at his feet.

"Harry," I whispered, feeling his hands squeezing tighter and tighter. "Harry, you're hurting me."

As if I flipped a switch, he was back to reality, shoving himself away from me. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head a bit before mustering the strength to look over at me, still shocked and pinned against the wall. Tears formed in his eyes, utter dread masking his face where the hatred used to be. He looked horrified, severely haunted.

"No," he whispered, his voice hardly audible. Then, a little louder, "Oh God, no. No, no, no."

I wanted to speak, but I was still stuck in my stupor. I'd never experienced such a thing, especially not from Harry. It must be his condition, but it was so... frightening. Like he was Harry, but he wasn't. The evil Harry. I never thought one could exist.

He ran out of the bathroom before I could even sift through something to say. I caught my breath, my brain clearing the slightest, and it hardly took any thinking before I ran after him. As if on cue, a loud boom of thunder shuddered the building. How fitting. Even the sky knows when something is terribly wrong. 

I expected to run out and find him in the middle of the road, maybe trying to get himself run over again. If that were the case, I would've obviously shoved him out the way and made sure he was okay (if I didn't get hit). Then I'd slap him for giving me two heart attacks in one night.

Instead, he was downstairs sitting on the bench next to the building in the rain. He had his head bowed, his hands clasped behind them. I wish he'd talk to me a little more. Maybe if he knew he was getting bad again, he could've told me. I'm not sure what I could've done, but I would've found something. Anything other than him going through it alone.

I sat down beside him, the rain pouring down. I hadn't even touched him, and yet as if I were drowning in flames and he could feel the heat, he shot up. He didn't look at me. I wasn't sure he could look at me. I waited for him to say something but he never did, just stood there a safe distance away.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I finally asked.

No answer.

"Harry." I stood now, too, taking a step closer. Of course, he took one back. But the action was enough to get him to speak.

"Don't," he said quietly, shaking his head. 

I obliged, freezing in my spot. Literally freezing because the rain was steady and I had short sleeves on. "You should've told me, Harry. That you were getting bad again."