Heroin {harry styles}

16

"I'm not answering that," I turn around and lean against the counter, still blushing furiously. This is so awkward.

The barstool Harry's sitting on moves against the tile floors and I hear his footsteps coming towards me. Not knowing what to do, I run to the other side of the counter.

"Come on Layla, don't play this game," he smirks at me. "I just want to know."

I take my bottom lip between my teeth in nervousness and shake my head.

"Wait, no as in you're not a virgin or no as in you're not telling?" He raises a brow at me.

I hate him.

"I'm not telling!" I shout and dart around the counter again. He follows me and we go back and forth for a minute before I sprint out of the kitchen, trying to get away from him and this stupid question.

Of course Harry keeps chasing me, and his long legs catch up to mine in no time. I manage to get to the top of the stairs and down the hallway, but his hand catches mine as I go to open my bedroom door.

I turn around, startled, and Harry picks me up, swiftly throwing me over his shoulder. I pound on his lower back relentlessly, but it doesn't seem to have any effect on the strong man.

Moments later, I start to hear a sound that I've only ever heard once, and not for long.

Harry's laughing.

His torso vibrates slightly beneath my stomach as he laughs and soon enough I begin to laugh with him.

"I'm not putting you down until you tell me," he laughs some more, and this is a side of Harry I've never seen before.

In this moment, he could easily be mistaken as a normal guy. Not some murderous gang leader, just a guy messing around.

I don't want to tell him anything, but the blood is quickly rushing to my head and I can't stay like this for much longer.

As much as I hate to do it, I have to give in. "If I tell you, can I go to bed?"

"Mhm," he hums, becommimg more serious now that he realizes I'm probably going to tell him.

"You promise you won't judge me?"

"Mhm."

"Then yes, fine, I am! Now put me down!" I start squirming and Harry let's me down gently. We're right outside my door, so I walk straight in without sparing him a glance.

I have absolutely zero interest in seeing his expression right now. He probably looks all smug and arrogant as usual.

I quickly throw on some clothes to sleep in and realize it's only seven o'clock, but that's fine because last night was the first time I've slept since being here and that wasn't even a whole night. I feel gross not being able to brush my teeth, but I don't want to take a chance of running into Harry in the hallway. I'll just brush double time tomorrow morning.

I crawl into bed and fluff my pillow, getting myself all situated and perfectly comfortable.

This isn't right.

Flipping over countless times, I can't find the right position.

My feet are cold so I quickly get up to put some socks on.

Once I get back in bed, I close my eyes and just as I'm about to fall asleep, the rest of me is hot and I have to exchange my pants for shorts.

Nine forty five. That's what time it is when I glance at the clock next to my bed and I'm still wide awake.

I can't do this again.

Sighing, I get out of bed and now there's a chill. I throw on a hoodie over my t-shirt, because now it's too cold in just shorts. Why can't my body make up its mind?

I take a deep breath before turning the handle to my door, about to do the last thing I want to do.

Reluctantly making my way downstairs, I find Harry in the living room, typing away at something on his phone. I miss my phone, but that's not important right now.

He glances up at me, his expression giving away that he's back to his usual stone cold self. "Can I help you?"

"I can't sleep," I mumble, standing in the doorway, as far away from him as possible.

"And what am I supposed to do about that?"

"Can I borrow your book?" I ask nervously.

"I thought you didn't like it," he squints at me skeptically.

"I don't. It's the most boring thing I've ever read, which is exactly why it'll help me sleep again."

I can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he contemplates it. He really doesn't want me to have this dumb book. But he finally gives in when he gets up and grabs the book out of the same drawer he put it in this afternoon.

Nostrils flaring, he slowly walks over to me and exhales deeply through his nose before handing me the book.

I take it and look him in the eyes. His bright green eyes hold no emotion in them, as if there are so many walls protecting any ounce of feelings he may have.

"Thank you."

Harry ignores me and goes back to the couch to finish whatever he was doing on his phone, so I go back upstairs to bed.

Somehow reading about Holden not being able to fall asleep because of some girl helped me fall asleep because the next thing I know, my alarm is waking me up and The Catcher In The Rye is placed neatly on the nightstand next to me.

I quickly get ready to go downstairs and make Harry and I breakfast, but he's nowhere to be seen and there's a sticky note on the refrigerator.

Shipment came in @ 3am, be out all day. Move ALL your shit out of your room and into the other guest room down the hall, the lads are coming to paint tomorrow.

I eat breakfast by myself, thinking about how much this day is going to suck. Quickly cleaning up my dishes, I head upstairs and begin moving small things out of my room and into the other.

This is so different than Harry's job. While I'm moving clothes and some small pieces of furniture down the hall, he's dealing with millions of dollars worth of drugs.

I bet heroin's gotta be somewhere in that mix.

God, I'd kill to do that again. Just one more time.

After a short time of not thinking about it, my dark thoughts about doing the drug came back.

If I could change anything about my life, I'd change the fact that Harry injected me with it. But I can't change that, and I want it.