Stalker HS

Chapter 11

He actually dragged me into his fucking car. No questions asked. Just pulled me from my house after forcibly putting boots on me. Just like you'd get an aggravated toddler ready to leave. I was so angry with how he treated me. I am 24 years old. Not a baby at all.

"Couldn't even give me a second to breath?" I snap, wiggling in my seat a little.

"We're late. Your slow ass made me late." Harry groans, stepping on the gas and practically flying down the street.

"Holy shit! Slow down! You'll get us pulled over!" I yell, gripping onto the leather.

"Shut up, Pheobe." Harry snarls.

My heart races a million miles an hour. His speeding was causing me to have a panic attack. My breathing picked up into heaving air. I started to shake vigorously. Everything was happening very quickly and now we're MOVING very quickly.

"Harry!" I whimper. "Please!"

A stop sign came up and Harry slammed on the brake. The car came to a screeching stop. I choke out a distressed sob.

"Fuck." Harry growls. "Why don't you have a seat belt on? Damn it, Pheobe!"

He easily reaches over and puts the belt around me. Then speeds down the street again. I began to cry. My breath heaving and tears streaked down my cheeks. My hands desperately grasped onto the fabric of the seat. I continued just blubbering and crying the entire time. Every time Harry slammed on to the breaks at stop signs or lights, I'd choke out a terrified sob.

The ride seemed to last forever. I felt like we'd never get out of this speeding death trap. When we did, Harry snapped both our seat belts off and hopped out of the car. In no time he ran around the car and yanked me out of my side.

I had no time to catch my breath as Harry tugs me into the restaurant my friend had taken me to only a few days ago. I almost fell to the floor just crying because of the panic attack I had still been fighting.

I try very hard to compose myself. The tears all over my face are quickly wiped off onto the sleeve of my sweater. Harry and I were being seated at a reserved table before I was ready to deal with what was happening. I let Harry pull out a chair for me and sat down awkwardly. Harry sits himself beside me and scoots his chair in. My hands instinctively push up my sleeves as I mercilessly scratched at my thin arms from under the table. Out of the sight of whoever was sitting across the table. Harry looked down to see what I'd been doing and deeply growled in my ear. He snatched up one of my hands and pulled my sleeves back down. Giving me nothing to channel my situation into. Soon I began to shake again.

I'm absolutely sure Harry knew of my condition. He has been watching me for so long. There was no possible way for him not to witness one of my grade A panic attacks. He caused a lot of them.

I focused hard on anything but my freaked out state. Trying my best to calm down. But nothing seemed to be working. That is, until Harry began gently rubbing the palm of my hand with one of his long fingers. I look up at him nervously, only to see him smile charmingly down at me.

"Calm down, Pheobe." He whispers to me. "I'm sorry I scared you earlier. But it's over now. Calm down."

I stared into his compelling eyes, letting his words pour into my ears. He had my full attention. My fear of him pushed for me to give him my full attention, there wasn't a possible way for me to ignore what he was saying. The sick, sadistic, creepy man beside me. Actually calmed me down faster than anyone I'd ever known.

The two men that we're already sitting at our table awkwardly cleared their throats. Probably wanting Harry's attention. He gave me one last little nod before looking over to the men.

"Hello, Mr.Styles." They say simultaneously.

One of the two wore thick and large glasses and a large hat. He looked just like the typical old grandfather in every movie. The other was bald, had a large nose, but also had a white beard like the other man.

"Who's your friend Harold?" The Grandfather-like man asks.

"This, is Pheobe." Harry states happily. "Pheobe, this is Mr. Rowling and Mr. Crawford."

Mr. Rowling being the man with the largely framed glasses. Crawford being the bald man with a scruffy grey beard. I nod in understanding.

"Nice to meet you." I quietly say.

"It's our pleasure, ma'am." Mr. Rowling smiles and removes the hat off of his head.

Soon, I find myself completely tuning the men out. I didn't listen at all. Just sat there until we had to order our drinks. I found it hard to speak to the waitress, though. My focus was on not having a mental meltdown.

I've always hated making a scene. Especially when in a very public place. There was no way I wanted to piss Harry off either. He scares me shitless and now I was too far from home to walk. I felt like I had to walk on eggshells. Especially after he yanked me out of the shower today. But, it's not like that's the worst he had done.

Instead of answering the woman, I helplessly stared at Harry. He smiled down at me. As if I was doing something amusing. I just wanted him to order my damn drink.

"She'll have a sweet tea." Harry says, pressing a large hand to my thigh. "I'll have some water."

The other men ordered, but I paid no attention. My direction of interest was at Harry's enormous hand. It took up the entire expanse of my thigh. I wasn't anxious about it, more intrigued actually.

I placed my own, smaller hand, over his. Noticing the cross tattoo again. My thumb instinctively traced a couple of tattoo designs closer to his hand. This wasn't my ideal way to calm myself. But it seemed to be working extremely well.

I stopped when Harry gently squeezed my thigh. My entire body slightly flinched. It completely caught me off guard. I looked up to find a playful smirk on Harry's face before he turned back to the other men to continue his conversation. Our drinks were placed in front of us just as soon as I was about to ask to leave for the restroom.

Harry ordered for me again, getting me some chicken strips. Relieving me of attempting to speak. Though, he basically ordered me food off of the kids menu... I like chicken strips... But this is a fancy restaurant and I'm a 24 year old woman.

"Can I go to the restroom?" I quietly whisper to Harry, just as the waitress leaves.

"Five minutes." He warns. "Or I'm coming to look for you. Do you need me to show you again?"

"No. No I remember." I quickly respond.

There was no way I'd take the chance of testing him again, not now. So I quickly shuffled to the bathroom. Doing the basic, bathroom-like things that every human being does. But, much faster than usual. Just in case I went even slightly over five minutes, I decided to rush the process. I checked my hair in the mirror quickly, making sure it wasn't a mess. Thank the heavens it still sat neatly in waves on my head. I make a silly face at the mirror before heading back.

A/N: Yes I know... boring chapter. Well, my dear friends. This is what we call a filler.

I threw in some sneaky info about Hazz. Don't know if you caught it. Its nothing really hugely important. But it's in there.

Any how.

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Edited by Serina. :)