Heroin {harry styles}

20

I stare back at Harry and my mouth drops. He did not just ask if I'm okay. Not after he locked me in the basement for an entire day.

"Do you think I'm okay?" It comes out a little snappier than intended, but he deserves it.

"You didn't answer my question," Harry's eyes soften and he takes a step toward me.

"No I'm not okay! You left me down there for twenty four hours!" I shout, the floodgates of my emotions opening. "How is anyone supposed to be okay after that?"

He doesn't say anything and takes another step towards me.

But I step back away from him.

He takes three steps towards me this time, and I take three steps back.

"Layla," he says.

"Stop. I just want to go to bed."

"Then lets go," he holds out a hand gesturing me to go upstairs.

"Alone," I glare at him.

Is he seriously trying to get me in bed right now?

Harry looks as if he's contemplating that, but he quickly fires back, "Not happening. Now you can either walk by yourself or I'll carry you."

"I don't want to be around you," I groan, but start walking to the stairs.

"I didn't ask."

Since there's no way my usual room could be done yet, I go to the guest room that I moved my stuff in before. Out of pettiness, I walk in and shut the door behind me even though I know Harry's close behind.

He makes no mention of the action, opening the door and closing behind him.

"I need to shower," I state. He better not follow me in there.

"Then go shower," Harry responds, rolling his eyes and flopping down on the bed, making himself comfortable. "I'll be here."

He is so frustrating. I quickly grab some clothes and exit the room.

Once I'm out, I lean back on the wall next to the door. The air seems more clear, and there's no more tension now that I'm not stuck in that room with him.

After a few deep breaths, I finally head into the bathroom. Turning on the hot water and stripping out of my clothes, I examine myself in the mirror.

While I've only been here a little over a week, I can tell I'm changing. I've already lost a bit of weight, there are heavy bags under my eyes, and I generally don't look like I have as much life in me as I did at home.

Within a few minutes the mirror is fogged up because of the shower and I can no longer see my reflection.

Sighing, I step into the stream of hot water. I make sure to wash my hair and body twice, just to make sure every ounce of basement dust and air is gone. It feels nice to wash it away, almost like I'm starting over in a way. But I can't wash it out of my brain, unfortunately.

When I'm clean, dressed, and ready for bed, I leave the bathroom and walk back to my temporary guest room.

Standing outside the door, I take a deep breath and mentally say a quick prayer in hopes that Harry wasn't serious about waiting there.

Heart racing, I slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside.

He's still there.

Of course.

He hasn't moved from his spot on the bed and as soon as I walk in I freeze. His bright eyes are boring into mine with the most intense look I've ever seen.