Immure (Harry Styles)

Chapter Fourteen

 *cнapтer ғoυrтeen*

"Would you like a drink with your meal?" Harry asked. I replied with a nod, considering I haven't had a drink in a while and I was extremely thirsty. When he gave me a glass of water, I gulped it down in a hurry as the coldness rushed down my dry throat, quenching my thirst. Once it was all gone, I put it back on the table. Harry asked if I wanted more, which I shook my head before he washed the glass and put it on the clean side of the sink. He then got plates out for our food.

Harry made us both pasta for lunch, and watched me intensively as I ate mine. I only ate half, complaining I was full before Harry shook his head in disagreement.

"You haven't eaten much, Ivery," he told me, swallowing his own food before continuing,  " Besides, that's being wasteful. I pay money for that food. You're finishing it," he told me sternly, as he stuffed his face with his own. His gaze only leaving me to make sure he doesn't drop his food, before returning with an intense stare.

"You can't force me to eat. I will throw up," I informed him. He sighed before grabbing my plate and throwing the rest of the pasta on my plate into the trash. He then washed the plate, before grabbing seconds for himself. I stared at him in confusion. "Why couldn't you just eat mine? Since you're os worried about everything going to waste." He stopped chewing and glared at me before replying.

"Because, who knows where your mouth has been," he replied. That was when I got up from the table, making my way up the stairs and ignoring his apologies. What made him even think to say something like that? Why did he suddenly change in his mood? Everything was off about him, and I couldn't wait to be away from it all; away from him.

Once I was up and in my room, I lay on my bed debating on whether or not I should call Ansel and let him know I'll be ready with my stuff soon. I decided against it because I didn't want to start anything with Harry, and it was probably a better idea to just wait until he goes out to do more of his 'errands' or whatever to fully move out. I decided to take out one of my boxes, searching for my journal. Once it was found, I opened it up and read through it. There were only fourteen pages total, for I only wrote in it briefly over the years. 

May 14th, 2012

As I lay in my bed at this time, I realize how I'm officially lonely, confused, and so lost. Mom and Dad, or should I say my carrier and sperm donor, don't even try to communicate with my any longer. Is it me? Should I just try to end it all? Why isn't anything turning out right? Doesn't God have a plan for me? Or is my luck just that shitty? So much for being Irish. I just need an escape.

Ivery - 3:16AM

I skipped a couple of pages, skimming through it all before Harry suddenly charged into my room. I didn't even hear him come up the stairs. 

"What is that?" he asked making his way over to me, snatching the journal out of my hand. 

"Harry! The hell? That's mine," I tried getting it back, but he turned around, his back facing me as he seemed to go through the pages, He suddenly stopped at one, reading over it before throwing the journal across the room, some pages falling out. 

"Why just stop there, huh?" he asked, his breathing increasing as his back was still facing me. "Why not write more about your terrible fucking life, Ivery? Hmm?" he said not turning around. Something  in me started to explode.

"Shut the hell up, already!" I screamed. He chuckled.

"You're really dumb," he said. That's when I lunged at him. My fist collided with his back as I repeatedly punched it. It created a pounding sound, but it didn't seem to faze Harry at all.  In fact, he started to laugh, as if I was tickling him.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You sick fuck! Goodness, I hate you! I can't wait to finally leave you!" I screamed before suddenly, Harry's laughs seemed to come to a stop as he turned around, grabbing my wrist harshly. 

"What did you just say?" he glared. His eyes seeming to twitch.

"I, I," I was lost at words as his grip increased. I whimpered when he stepped closer to me.

"You said when you finally leave me, right?" he asked. It seemed as if the other statement didn't even bother him. 

"You knew I was," I said, my confidence fading as seconds ticked on, "that was the plan all along."

"But I thought I could-" he stopped before letting go of me. He paced back and forth, pulling at his hair in frustration before he punched the wall as he grunted. "Fuck!"  I looked to see a small dent in the wall, but not enough to make a hole. He then looked at me with teary eyes. "I thought that you were just saying that to be nice," he said softly. I grew nervous as he quickly changed moods. He started to pant as I stepped backward, accidentally tripping over the small box on the floor beside the bed, it tipping over and stuff falling out. That grabbed Harry's attention as everything ceased and he looked at the box for a while. 

"Wait a second," he said before looking around my room again, before looking back at me with crazy eyes. "You aren't unpacking, you-you're, you're you're packing? You're packing!" And then suddenly, it seemed like something in his brain clicked as he punched the wall, this time making  a hole.

PLEASE READ MY NEW HARRY STYLES SHORT STORY, "SUPERVISE" :) also, THANK YOU ALL FOR 100K READS ON THIS STORY SO FAR! ILY ILY ILY! COMMENT, THEY MAKE MY DAY :)))) MUAH! X

(link to "supervise" in the comments section below; first comment)