Chapter 15

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Robyn

"Oh please wake up!" She reached over and prodded him in the chest and then gingerly shook his shoulder. "Please don't be dead! I want you to go to jail, not me!"

Her heart raced as blood began to drip out of his nose; she was deeply alarmed for he wasn't moving, and she couldn't exactly tell if he was breathing, and she wasn't getting close enough to him to find out because what if he was faking and waiting for her to be stupid enough to get that close so he could strangle her to death with those gigantic hands of his.

She stared at him, and tried not to think of how pretty he was, or how disturbingly beautiful his bright red blood looked against his pale skin. She shook her head at the thought and poked him in his ribs with the bat.

"Wake Up!"

"Hmmmm."

He groaned in pain and his eyes slowly batted open. She continued to stare, and gripped the bat in her hands, as she lifted it to swing position and scooted closer to him.

"You asshole! Why the hell would you break in here?"

"Shut the fuck up! My head is bloody splitting and I don't want to hear you shrieking at me."

"Fuck. YOU!" She leaned in and yelled in his ear, he reached a feeble hand up and mushed her face back away from him, she let the bat fall and slapped him as hard as she could. "I'm calling the cops on your skinny ass."

She began to stand, but the pain in her ankle prevented her from moving very quickly, and certainly not quickly enough to stop him from grabbing her wrist and sitting up and pulling her to him by her shirt collar. She kneeled before him, he caught her free hand before she could raise it and pinned them both behind her back. As he wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his free hand, she tried not to be impressed by the fact he had her captive with one hand.

"You are not calling the cops."

"What's going to stop me?"

"I will murder you and disappear. No one knows I'm here and no one will."

"Fuck you, there are cameras in here."

"You're lying."

"You wish." She tried to think of a way to make her lie more convincing and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I'm a huge sex freak, so they're hidden in here and your face is all over them and they'll find them and put your ass in the gas chamber."

"Sex freaks don't wear footsie pajamas."

He smirked at her, and she felt the corners of her mouth twitch but refused to let them go up into a smile. This was serious and she couldn't even believe she was amused by him. Who talks about sleepwear with the burglar she wondered as she spoke.

"I'll have you know there's an entire community of people with footsie pajama fetishes."

"I'll bet. You look cute in yours, actually." She rolled her eyes and kept trying to wriggle out of his grip. "Let me off the hook, please, Miss Sex Addict? I actually think I'm in the wrong apartment..."

"I'm not going to let you off the hook, are you insane? You just broke into my apartment! You. Tried. To. Steal. My. Louboutins!"

"Is that all? I didn't get away with them did I?"

His smile spread across his entire face and she suddenly got the feeling that she recognized him; there weren't many smiles that beautiful in the world, although she despised herself for noticing it.

"I know you? Why do I know you? Who are you?"

She asked, still wriggling in his grasp. He bit his lip, amused by her pointless struggling and felt his heart beat race. She was pretty when she was mad, and at the moment she was livid.

H. A Harry Styles A.U.Where stories live. Discover now