I roll my eyes and scoff. He better not be serious right now.
"This isn't some fucking game Harry." I push at his chest causing him to fall back a bit. He raises his eyebrows, surprised I fought back. His confident smirk fades as he speaks.
"I never said it was." He sounds calm. I am literally one move away from taking that gun and blowing some daylight in his skull.
"You killed someone!"
His pointer finger flies to my mouth to shush me. I glare at him in our small distance, still managing to display my anger. He pulls my arms to become locked tightly in his grasp. He stands with one hand gripped around my arm and one hand against my mouth.
"Don't raise your voice at me." His voice suddenly grows deep, sending my heart to ring in my ears.
We stand there for a moment in silence in that same position. It feels like time just stopped. He makes me feel such unusual things. I can't even comprehend it.
I gather all the strength I have to speak. I gulp, "And what if I do?"
It's not a genuine question of course. But I've discovered that messing with Harry is fun. So let's have some fun. At my funeral.
"Then," he pauses to think. A grin spreads on his face quickly, "I'll kill you."
I blink a few times. He said that like it was a casual joke. I wanna punch him. I don't say anything. I manage to get myself out of his hold. His hand falls to his side but that same grin remains plastered across his face.
He doesn't bother speaking either, instead he starts following me who's already created a path to the car. The gravel crunches under my feet as I stomp along. I lean against the car while I pull out my phone from my pocket. I'm surprised it didn't crack or get damaged while we were running.
I guess I spoke too soon because I run my thumb over a slight split on the screen. It stings a little when the area hits my finger, but it's not enough to cut it. My eyes widen when I notice an hour has passed.
"What are you doing?" His voice speaks from the other side of the car.
"I'm calling an Uber." I blankly state, staring down at my Uber app loading.
I can just hear the irritation on his face. It's hilarious. Once the app loads, I click on the closest girl nearby. I read into her info, and just before I go to press 'book', I hear him.
"No you're not. Get in the god damn car Noelle."
I continue scrolling up and down on my phone just to annoy him, but I immediately stop when he starts marching towards me.
"If I have to repeat myself one more time for you, I swear to god." He snatches the phone out of my hand and shoves it in his own pocket.
I raise my eyebrows and slightly smile to myself. Mission accomplished. I tug the door handle and plop myself on his leather seats.
The ride home was really quiet. Neither Harry or I spoke. We just let the music play on. I don't want to talk to him. No, more like, I don't know what to talk about. It's been a hell of an afternoon. First the police told me my mom killed herself, then Harry dragged me to eat fish and chips with him, which somehow led to us being shot at. And now here we are. On our way home.
I don't really know how to act around him. I can't tell if he likes me or hates me or both. I just don't understand sometimes. Why he does what he does. Or acts how he acts. What makes me even more surprised is whatever he did and whatever we went through has all been in just two days. I can't say this enough, he's definitely bipolar.
When we arrive, I expect Harry to parallel park against my curb, but instead he pulls up in my driveway. See? Weird. People do that when you're friends, or dating or whatever. I can confirm Harry and I are nowhere on that scale.
I close the car door, thanking Harry with pulling my lips into a line and a nod. My shoes stomp against the steps of my porch. I bring my eyebrows together when I notice a plain brown box sitting on my doorstep.
It's medium sized. Doesn't look like anything special.
I turn my head to look back at Harry, who's watching me from his car while holding his lip. I rotate my head back to the box. I bend down to pick it up. It's not heavy at all. Why would someone pack such a small object with a big ass box? I shake it slightly to guess what's inside.
I have no clue, but there's something definitely in there. I just realized that Harry got out of his car and is now standing behind me. I motion for him to hold the box while I dig in my purse for my house key.
I shove the ridged key inside the key whole, kicking the door open when it unlocks. Harry snd I walk over to the coffee table to open the box. I don't even care that he followed me inside I'm just desperate to find out what's in this box.
The entrance is sealed with duct tape, so I finally speak to him after a long fifteen minutes. "Harry, get me scissors."
I continue trying to pry it open until I assume Harry is on his way to get the scissors.
He doesn't respond, he gently moves my hand away from the box and places his huge hands on top of the box. He tears the tape blocking the opening so effortlessly my jaw almost falls. I tried every possible angle there is to open that damn box.
The top pops as soon as the two flaps fly to the side. I rush to hover over the box and check what's inside.
My eager features immediately drop when I spot a skull sitting lifelessly inside.
"What the hell!" I jump back. The most I expected was like an Amazon order, not this. My hand rests on my chest feeling my heartbeat.
My heart slams repeatedly against my chest as Harry holds the skull in his palm, observing its little curves and contours. His face looks more concentrated than surprised. I stare at him while I gather my sentence.
"Is it real?"
He clears his throat and then stares at his toes. No fucking way.
"Oh my god." I gulp. My voice becomes stiff.
Harry doesn't dare to look at it for one more second. He tosses it back inside the box and slams the flaps shut, sealing it again. I run my fingertips along my forehead, trying to figure out what the fuck to do.
"What do you wanna do with it?" He utters as his tongue slips out to wet his bottom lip.
I scoff, letting all the emotion show on my face. What do I want to do with it? Dear Harry, stop acting like crazy sudden events like these are normal. Love Noelle.
"Oh jeez Harry I don't know, this is my first time being sent a skull." Sarcasm lives inside my tone.
His features immediately flip to dull. Even with what happened back there, he was acting like that wasn't totally insane.
He stops communicating with me again. He picks up the box with his fingers gripping the bottom of it tightly. He starts carrying it across the living room, making a clear path to the front door. He kicks the ajar door open as I just stare at him.
I step closer to watch closely to his next actions. Harry walks towards my trash bins in front of my house. Really? His plan is to just throw it away?
"Seriously?" I raise my eyebrows while he marches to his car.
"I asked you what you wanted to do with it and you didn't tell me, so I handled it." He opens his car door and slams it shut, causing me to pause before speaking.
"Where are you going?" I ignore his previous statement. I step down my porch stairs quickly to catch up to his car before he drives away.
His car starts again, and he rolls down his window to respond. "I have to go talk to Zayn and Niall about what happened at the fish and chips place."
"Wait so they know about all this kind of stuff too?" It's a bit of a bold question but I don't know how else to ask it. What if Harlow knows? What if they told her? I don't want her to get into all of this.
"What do you mean this kind of stuff?" Harry quotes me.
I gulp. Don't go into detail Harold. This is hard for me. Stepping up to him in general kind of scares me. "Guns and shit."
He chuckles lightly, "Yeah. They do."
"Bye Noelle." Is the last thing he says before his wheels spin without a stop.
God. There's so much to think about. The person or people I don't even know, but whoever they are know where I live. That bothers me a lot. What if one day they just decide to break in? I'm dead. Or there's a chance that was never meant for me. It could've been for my neighbor or something, which is even worse. Or even worse, this was all some sick prank pulled by some teenager across the street. But I don't think so. The skull looked pretty real. How does Harry know the difference between a real and fake one?
What bothers me the most is Harry knows about all this shit. He has a gun, which isn't that off because a lot of people do own one, but no one ever carries one around. I didn't even know he had it. Number two, he doesn't feel much remorse for death. That is fucking sick. I couldn't even look at him for half of the drive home. He acts all tough but he's not. He doesn't scare me. His tricks don't work on me. Lastly, he always goes back and reports things to Niall and Zayn. Any weird occurrences, they always know. It happened at the club and right now.
Maybe they're in a cult or something. But all I know is I have to be careful. Around Harry and by myself.
Cause I have a feeling it's going to get messy from here.
//