A. N. Hiiii guys so I don't mean to sound like mean or anything and i feel super bad for saying this but i honestly have 0 time to check out peoples stories and read them :/ im in cheer and have lots of homework and i tutor and im super busy but i wish so bad that i could read all of your stories and dedications and tell you what i think because im sure theyre all amazing but i just cant :'( but dont think that means i dont appreciate you guys or anything because I SERIOUSLY LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH OMG UR VOTES AND READS AND EDITS AND COMMENTS ARE JUST INCREDIBLE AND I READ EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM I PROMISE ILY STAY PERFECT
Harry's tray of food lay abandoned as it joined the spiderwebs in the corner of the room. The floor beneath it was cement; cold, grey cement. The walls were made up of dark brick and the ceiling was a similar color. The springy mattress was covered in wrinkled white sheets, which in other cells was streaked with anonymous stains. There was one thin pillow resting at the end of his bed. And that was it. A pillow, sheets, and a uniform; those were the only possessions Harry Styles had acquired during his time in Wickendale.
Many patients, upon request, could obtain a book or an extra blanket or even a poster if they really wanted one. But he had yet to ask for any of these things, leaving his room almost bare. Just a few moments ago I wasn't aware if this fact with the world melting away around me while I relished in Harry's kiss. But now that kiss had been broken, and it all came flooding back. Every detail of the building, every crack and hole in the structure, every layer of dust visible. Because this wasn't just a world Harry and I could share through contact of our lips; it was a mental institution for the criminally insane.
Although it was nice to forget the overflowing worries and mysterious events taking place in my life for a few short, precious moments, I had been too lost in him to notice Rosemary. And everything then rushed back into my mind with an exploding pressure. What would become of me, what would become of Harry if Ms. Hellman found out? My heart was pounding, my nerves getting the best of me once again.
"Shit," Harry cursed, the first words he had spoken in a whole two minutes. "That was one hell of a kiss, Rose Winters."
I turned to him, and he was actually smiling. Smiling.
"Harry, do you not realize how much trouble we'll be in?" I asked.
"Oh no, I do. We're fucked."
I looked at him, bewildered. "Then why are you smiling?"
"What?" he asked innocently. "Just because we're gonna get in huge trouble doesn't mean I can't enjoy what just happened."
I shook my head, amazed at his indifference. I mean I enjoyed the kiss, too. Probably more than I should have. But I couldn't let that blind me to the fact that Rosemary had just witnessed our affair. She had seen what we were doing, she had seen Harry's body lying over mine. And judging by what I knew of her, she would definitely be one to tell the warden. It was as if we were in class and she was the teacher's pet. She always tried to be like Ms. Hellman by ordering people around just because she was among the oldest of us here. But I couldn't blame her, though. This wasn't her fault. It was mine.
I can't believe I was so stupid. I didn't plan for the kiss to happen. It was the fullness of Harry's lips, the thunder of his rich voice, the smoothness of his skin. That was all that was present in my thoughts, the fact that someone might see us not even crossing my mind. If I weren't so immersed in him I may have had the decency to draw a line. No matter how much I cared for him, I knew that kissing him wouldn't be allowed. At least not here.
But the lines and morals had dissolved under Harry's enchanting poison. Now what was left of my carelessness was the looming worry of his possible punishment, and the dread of whatever I might be in for. Who knows what Ms. Hellman will do, or what she will have James do. I was most likely jumping to conclusions, she would never go that far over a simple kiss. But you could never be sure and the possibility was still enough to make me shudder. I just hoped Harry hadn't yet to come to this conclusion yet, and by the looks of his careless smirk, he hadn't.
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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