Psychotic ( A Larry Stylinson Fanfiction)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

I entered the cafeteria of Wickendale with thoughts even more confusing than usual, my mind swirling in a mass of James and Harry. Spending time with James had been perfect and so had our kiss, so why had I envisioned meeting Harry's lips instead? Why couldn't I just spend time with James without constantly thinking about him? All of these questions were swirling around in my mind and I couldn't grasp a single thought from the whirlwind. An internal battle of sorts seemed to be taking place, as one side of me wanted to be good and the other yearned to stand alongside the evil.

And the fact that I was even considering the second option scared me; a lot. But Harry held an essence that blurred any logical and moral view I once possessed and took over my every thought. He was like an infection, spreading throughout my mind and refusing to leave.

Speak of the devil, there he was as I walked in to the large cafeteria. He already had a seat at our table, his dark hair in a disheveled tangle of curls pushed back to reveal breathtaking features, his cherry-red lips wrapped around a diminishing cigarette.

"You're here early," I greeted, taking a seat next to him.

"Yeah, we got let out of our group therapy shit sooner than usual because Janise had a meltdown and tried to choke a guard. It was really funny, actually," he smirked, puffing a smoke ring into the air.

"Is everyone okay?" I asked.

"Yes, unfortunately. It's too bad though, I would've liked to see some action around here for a change"

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help but grin at his cynical humor. Subconsciously I looked around to see if any of the usual guards were missing due to the incident Harry described, but the guards scattered around the lunch room seemed to be alright. Including James, who met my eyes as my gaze shifted over to him. He flashed me an adorable smile and I returned it, waving at him, before my eyes shifted back over to Harry. I found him him looking between the two of us, an almost humorous expression of disgust playing out over his features.

"You know, Louis, I know I can't control who you spend your time with, but can you please not make googly eyes at the person I despise right in front of me?"

"Despise? That seems a little strong of a word, doesn't it?"

Harry just shrugged, still irritated.

"You already know James is innocent. If he didn't murder anyone, why do you hate him so much?"

"Just do," he said simply, leaning back in his chair to remove his cigarette and exhale a breath of curling smoke. "So you guys went to the fair yesterday, right?"

"Yeah," I said apprehensively, afraid of the conversation lying ahead. I suddenly felt a pang of guilt in the memory of kissing James, but I immediately shoved away the thought. I should be able to kiss whoever I wanted, it's not like I had some obligation to Harry.

"How was it?" he wondered, trying to sound casual.

"Fine," I said simply.

"Louis, you can tell me. I'm just trying to make conversation," he said, shrugging again. He was trying to act indifferent to the whole situation, but I could tell that he wanted to know.

I sighed, realizing him there was no harm in telling him the details of our "date." Should I tell him about the kiss, too? I dreaded his reaction but for some reason I just felt like he should know. And part of me wanted him to know.

This may sound stupid, but my relationship with James was the only thing I had on Harry. He could so easily provoke a vulnerable or flustered reaction from me, even just by a glide of his fingertips or a whisper of his raspy voice against my ear. But I had nothing to fight back with. Except this. This thing with James, whatever it was, had been my only secret weapon to get Harry worked up. And the thought of his jaw becoming prominent as he clenched it tight, his tense muscles flexed under his smooth skin, was more than appealing. Dumb and kind of selfish, I know, but I couldn't help it.