Stockholm Syndrome / h.s

Chapter Thirty

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WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS LOTS OF BAD LANGUAGE.

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Come as you are -  Nirvana

I storm out of the dorm room with the gun hidden inside my hoodie, leaving Mary completely dumbfounded.

I remember getting this gun from Louis when I turned eighteen, he told me it was for when 'People fuck with your feelings'. Harry for damn sure fucked with mine.

So here I am, practically sprinting, over to Harry's dorm room. With my heart beating loudly in my ears, I bust his unlocked door open. Where I find...ew.

“What the fuck!”Emma says as she climbs off of...harry.

God this is awkward. So much for my 'bust his door open and shoot him in the head' idea.

Harry stares at me his eyes completely wide in shock.

“What're you doing here?” he asks and I aim the gun at Emma.

“You. Get out.” I order and she quietly leaves.

“Harry! How could you do this to me??,” I sob as I shakily hold on to the gun, “You're so cruel to have d-done that why did you do that!”

“What are you talking about Bella?”he asks as he stands in front of me.

“Braden...you were part of everything,” I say with my tone a notch softer, “I trusted you!”

“Fuck.”he groans.

“Fuck? Is that all you have to say?”I shake my head in disbelief, “Not even going to apologize for the shit you're causing me?”

He sighs deeply and shakes his head, “Look, Princess. Life does not revolve around you. And certainly mine does not. We had to do it. And there was some serious shit that could've put his life, and ours, in danger. So we had to do it the hard way,”

I scoff, “By killing him.”

“Exactly. And yeah I'm sorry, I know he was your best friend and all...but you have no fucking right to aim that gun at me. It was my fault, well partly, but did I pull the fucking trigger?”

I bite my bottom lip and sink to the floor, I'm tired as hell and just couldn't deal with this anymore,“You know what? FUCK YOU HARRY. FUCK. YOU. FUCK. THIS.”

“And put some fucking clothes on.” I said to Emma as she walks in and stands there with just a thin sheet wrapped around her body. Disgusting.

“Harry,” I start, “I want you to tell me everything. Or god so help me I'll shoot you.”

He stares at me for a while, “Alright, well, I'm not going to tell you shit unless you put that gun down first.”

So I reluctantly put the gun on the small bedside cupboard beside me and wait patiently for the 'truth' that I'm about to hear.

A.N SORRY FOR ALL THE F BOMBS IN THIS CHAPTER.
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