I awaited Harry's response with dread, just hoping, praying that he wouldn't lash out. He would only seem more deranged if he did. One might believe that somebody so poised and confident would be able to remain their composure. Many wouldn't think of him to have so much passion for another person, seeing that they thought him to be a serial killer. But once again, Harry was underestimated.
A jolt ran through me when he finally broke, standing up abruptly as he pushed, almost threw the table over. His great strength showed evident while it went tumbling onto its side, cards scattering across the floor. "WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!" Harry shouted, his voice breaking out hoarse and angry. He whipped his head around in search for the murderer but he didn't find what he was looking for. What he did find, though, were dozens of worried eyes staring back at him.
"Harry, calm down," I pleaded, but my voice was small and I doubted he was listening. Patients were glaring, and a guard was already making his way toward us. Harry was causing a scene, another piece of his once spotless record at Wickendale beginning to crumble. If he found James that was it, he would throw punch after punch, and then he would be whipped lash after lash as punishment. Either that or he would be strapped down, forced to undergo electro-shock therapy as agonizing pain ran through his body.
Just the thought of him getting punished made me cringe. I couldn't let that happen. His anger caused him to become blind of the consequences, his hunger for revenge being the only thing on his mind. I would have to be the one to stop him.
"Harry!" I demanded, pulling his arm back with all of the strength my skinny arms could conjure up. My goal was to yank him back to face me, but I was unsuccessful in my efforts. He did hesitate, though, and I used it to my advantage. Both of my hands reached up to cup his face while pulling it down so he was forced to look at me. His eyes were wide, his pupils big and outlined in bright emerald. His breathing was still heavy but he didn't take another step.
"Listen to me!" I demanded sternly, staring him right in the eyes. Everyone was looking, I knew they were, but I didn't care. My only worry right now was to keep Harry from getting hurt. "He's not here," I said, my voice lowering to be heard only between the two of us. "James isn't even here. Going on a rampage isn't going to help you," I said seriously. "Please, Harry, they'll punish you if you do anything. I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt."
His jaw was still clenched and the crease between his eyebrow remained, but at least he was listening.
"I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt either," he almost whispered. "I have to get him back, Rose, I have to." Slowly his eyes began to fade of their anger, the glint in them shifting to a look of utter hopelessness.
Before I could reply Harry was pulled away from me, his cheeks parting from my fingertips. Brian and Thomas had been the source of our parting, each grabbing one of his arms. "I think we should get him back to his cell," Brian said.
"Get the fuck off of me," Harry spat, his anger returning. He wriggled in their grasp but was fruitless in his efforts to yank fee.
"Harry, its okay," I said, nodding my head as if telling him to go. I would find a way to get to him. If he just went with the guards now without any trouble I could sneak to his cell and explain to him the whole situation. I doubted this thought was conveyed through my eyes alone, but he seemed to understand as he nodded, calming down a bit. Remaining in his eyes was one last lingering look towards me before he turned, walking along with the guards.
But, as I watched him walk out of the room, I realized that I couldn't leave Harry in his cell seething angry and plotting James' death. I had to talk him through this and then, together, we had to figure out what to do about James other than killing him on sight. My legs acted first as they carried me over to grab a tray of food. I gripped it with both hands and walked over to the doors of the cafeteria, shoving past the remaining guards.
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Psychotic (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)Fanfiction
"I loved her not for the way she danced with my angels, but for the way the sound of her name could silence my demons." - Christopher Poindexter