A skull.
All the oxygen just sucked out of my lungs. What the fuck.
When I don't say anything further, Harry rushes to me. He grabs ahold of my waist to move me aside so he can examine the box. He leans over a bit, putting his weight on one of his feet for a moment. He then restores his balance and looks back at me.
"What's happening?" Harlow asks, starting to walk over to where the box is.
I stop her, putting my body in between the two. "It's nothing,"
I spin back on my heels and kick the skull so it's out of the house. I can barely process the fact that it's back. I slam the door shut and turn back to Harry. I grab his wrist and start leading him to Harlow's room.
I have no clue how it's back. Harry tossed it in the dumpster. There have been multiple dumpster dumps since then. It should be gone. How is it back? We got fucking rid of it. I saw the trash truck take it away. I know I'm not crazy. I saw it with my own eyes. It should be gone. Long. Gone.
"Harry how is it back?" I softly whisper as soon as my foot touches Harlow's room's floorboards.
"I have no fucking clue. You saw me throw it away Noelle. I didn't do this." He says while we stand a good foot apart.
Wait. What? Why would he assume that I think he did it? I never said anything about that. Did he do it then? Was that his first instinct? To persuade me that he didn't do it? Guilty people do that.
"I never said you did it. But this isn't some sick prank anymore," I explain, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. "I think this is something serious Harry."
He forms his lips into a line, not sure. Okay, I don't think he did it. I think he just wanted to explain himself before I pounce on him like multiple occasions in the past. Oops. In my defense he gave me good reason to.
"What if someone's stalking me or something?"
He exhales, "Calm down, it's probably just some big coincidence. This is Cardiff. Nothing like that happens here. So don't worry about it. You're fine."
That's ironic. Since he literally stalked me.
"But it's not anymore. My theory makes perfect sense. At any random moment I just get these weird things happening to me. Like the shooting that day, or the jump on Mr Jane. Or the random dude that just tried to rape me. This can't all just be bad luck." I ramble, giving all the instances where I've been put in some sort of danger.
He lets me continue. "And all these times, the common factor is..." I pause. And then it hits me.
"You."
"Exactly. I don't think all of this is happening because of you. It's me whoever this shit brain is after." His voice is low, but gentle. Every time he speaks, all I can notice is his strong British accent. I've lived in Cardiff all my life, but I never developed any sort of accent.
"But who would be after you? You're boring." I blurt unknowingly. I snicker a little after my sentence.
He looks down at his shoes, then looks back up at me with his green eyes. They look a lot fainter in this lighting.
"Oh mon chéri, you have no idea." He tilts his head upward while smirking lightly.
"Okay, now what do we do about the skull sitting on the doorstep?"
"What if we keep it?" His words ring in my ears like an alarm.
Is he a little bit stupid? Or a lot? I can't tell.
"Keep it? Are you out of your m-"
Harlow's voice flows through all the walls of the apartment. "Noelle! What the hell is going on?"
I rotate, sprinting immediately to the living room. I just assume Harry is following. It's getting bad again. And it's getting serious. I didn't want to involve Harlow on all this. I've kept a lot from her. The gun men at the fish and chips cart and Harry stalking me are the big ones. I've just been telling her that I was out all afternoon with him, or I just really wanted to go talk to her dad that day. She doesn't need to be involved in all this. More than she already is I mean. I love Har, and anyone who tries to break her pure soul is going to have hell from me. I won't sit here and watch Harry bring all his issues or the people he has a bad reputation with into my life.
I'm almost positive that whoever this person or people are, they are all something to do with Harry. Every time he's around something bad happens to me. My explanation is perfect. Whatever shit heads he messed with a few years ago, are now trying to harm him now, dragging me down with him.
"I'm done being left in the dark by all of you! Tell me what's going on! Why the hell is there a skull on my front porch?" She practically screams. I'm stupid for thinking she just left the skull out around the bushes.
I walk over to her, placing my hands on her shoulders. This is my attempt to calm her down because she's literally sweating and red. But she moves away before I speak.
"Listen Harlow, whatever I'm not telling you, it's for your own g—"
She cuts me off obviously. "For my own good? I don't give a shit. Either you tell me what the hell is going on, or I'll find out myself. Why have you all been acting so strange and secretive? Like you know something I fucking don't?"
"Love, calm down. There's just been an issue with some people that are trying to hurt us okay? We're doing the best we can to figure it out and keep you safe." Niall explains from behind her. God I wish she didn't even have a clue about all this messy stuff.
"But who's trying to hurt us?" She tears up a little while looking at him.
"Honestly Har, I wish any of us could answer that. We don't know anything. Whoever these people, or even person is, they have something to do with Niall and Harry. It's not about us. Which is why I insisted you stay away from Niall."
Niall and Harry immediately look alerted. As if they're surprised. They heard me. They are the soul reason of why we're in this sticky situation right now. And quite frankly, none of them look eager to get us out of it.
"Excuse me? I'm trying to help you and you think I'm the cause?" Niall steps in front of Harlow, so he's closer to me.
"Something new and risky has been happening almost everyday since I met Harry, which is also a direct connection to you and Zayn. You mean to tell me I have no right to believe you three have something to do with these instances?" I bring my eyebrows together, stepping closer.
I'm not scared of Niall or Harry. I hope none of them think that for one second. I've been shot at, been mailed a skull, almost raped, and received that same skull all in 10 god damn days. I'm just about willing to go up against anything.
"Mate you're right. She is fucking crazy." Niall scoffs while looking at Harry. Well at least I know the feeling's mutual between me and Harry.
Before I can say anything further, my phone buzzes. I pull it out of my pocket, seeing a message from George. I slide up to read them while the three pace around on their own.
New Message from George:
I'm sorry for kissing you. And for everything. I'll be out of town for a few months. Don't worry about me please. I miss you already. 10:19PM
I furrow my eyebrows. Is he in some kind of trouble? This doesn't sound like George at all. I jump to quickly type a few messages.
To George:
are you okay? 10:19PM
what do u mean out of town ?? 10:19PM
did something happen? 10:20PM
I barely finish hitting send and there's another message that pops up on my screen.
New Message from Unknown ID:
We'll be together soon baby. Know that whatever I do, it's because I'm trying to help you. And this time, I won't miss any shots. 10:20PM
I can't ever get a break can I? I mumble a little before spitting out, "Harry."
Without saying anything, he paces over to my side. My blood starts running ice cold again. And that feeling I get when I feel like I can't choke out another breath even if I tried. This isn't funny anymore. It isn't a game. Something bad is about to happen. I can feel it. I can feel it through my veins, and my mouth, and my temples. Whoever these people or person is, it isn't just about Harry. It's about me. Whoever it is, they want me too.
"Niall." Just as he says that, in a matter of seconds, Harlow, Harry, and Niall are all surrounding me and my phone.
"I don't think it's best to go believing what this one text message has to say." Harlow says, looking up at me through her hazel eyes.
I take a deep breath and finally let out what I've been thinking for the past forty minutes. "Harlow. G-George. That's what he came here for. He disappeared after my mom died, so he came in here apologizing for it. He was really upset about it. And then he..."
"And then he what?" She motions for me to finish my sentence.
I look up from my phone in confusion. "He said goodbye. And then he texted me like two seconds ago saying he's going to be out of town for a few months."
"Goodie." Harry grins, his arms crossed in front of him in concentration.
"No you don't get it. That isn't like him, at all. He's usually so informative and clear, but now he's just leaving with no details or anything. It's all so vague. There has to be a reason right? Maybe something happened with these people or something, which is why he's-" I blurt out everything I chose not to think about. But Niall interrupts me while I'm putting two and two together.
"This is all such a stretch, you don't even know what you're talking about." He uses his hand to wipe the non-existent sweat on his forehead.
God he's so annoying.
"I'm just concerned Niall! While you just sit here and act like this is all regular daily routine shit! At least I'm trying to do something, unlike you and Harry." My hair bounces as I talk.
These two act as if I'm acting like this because I want to. I'm trying to help not just me, but everyone. While these two sit here acting as if they know everything.
"Jesus Noelle. Is there not one time in the entire day you can stop being so god damn stubborn?" Harry rhetorically asks, shaking his head.
I scoff, "Is there not any moment in the day where you can stop being so fucking insensitive?" I use my hands to express my sentence.
It doesn't matter to either of them about the recent events of mine and Harlow's lives. They're the most inconsiderate idiots I've ever met. We all stay silent for a good minute, trying to assess everything. None of us know what to do. Mainly because we have no clue who's after us, or what exactly is happening. It's all so weird and complicated. I just want this to be over. I want to know George is okay, I want my fucking mom back, I want Mr Jane to be healthy, I want to go back home.
All of us paste confused expressions across our faces as we all hear the same rumbling from a distance. It feels like a tornado is coming straight for us. The floor of the apartment starts shaking and moving objects out of place. Harlow gasps when a vase of primroses falls from the kitchen counter and shatters in front of me.
"Earthquake?" I ask through the wobbling. I know that was a stupid question, because there's been reports of like two earthquakes in the last thirty years in Cardiff.
"I don't think--" Harry's cut off by what seems like a nightmare.
The glass windows shatter into what feels like a million pieces, cutting all of us on so many spots of our bodies. My scream pierces through the room, as more glass and wood comes flying at us from all angles.
Niall rushes to open the front door before that blows away too, first shoving Harlow out the door. Usually, Harry's hand being on my waist would bother me, but I'm too busy to be thinking about that right now. My heart feels like it's being pinned down in one spot in my chest. I'm getting that feeling again. That feeling when everything is blurry and I can't breathe. Or that might just be the glass in my eye. Harlow's still screaming as we all somehow make it outside.
I think we're all grateful that Har bought one of those singular apartments so you can get a garden. I'm just imaging how many people could've died if this were a normal flat. Before all of us can sink in the four seconds of silence, the entire apartment blows one last time, this time, demolishing her entire apartment. We all shriek, taking multiple steps back. My hands engulf my face in hopes to protect me, but that obviously was a dumb move. I can feel new cuts on my arm already. The look in Har's eyes when her home is gone breaks my heart more than what just happened. She worked hard last year to fully furnish this home, and all of it is just gone in a snap of a finger. A tear rolls down both of our cheeks watching it fall apart.
"Noelle! Get in the car!" Harry yells at me from a distance. His passenger door is open, signaling for me to hurry the hell up and get in.
Niall tugs away Harlow from the apartment, as her eyes still show so much hurt. I want to give her a hug right now, but there's cuts and scars over both our faces and we need to get away from here.
I quickly plant myself on the seat. My hand immediately goes to graze over the few scars on my cheeks and forehead. I wince as it burns through my body. It feels like I have a million paper cuts all over me.
"Don't touch it." He speaks while starting the car. I stop, and then let him continue. "We'll be there soon. Take rest until then."
I struggle to sit upright, "Where are we going?"
"New York."
I blink as soon as he says that. Is he out of his mind?
"New York?!" I finally manage to sit upright, and I turn to look straight at him. He's casually driving like we're not about to drive like six hours to fucking New York.
"Calm down, we'll stop by your house so we can pick up a few things." He has one hand on the steering wheel and one hand pushing back his curls.
"A few things? Harry we can't just drive away to New York, I have a life here!" I hope my tone will convince him to stop the car, but we've already made the turn to go to my house.
He takes a breath, like he's hesitating what he's going to say next. "Oh yeah? And how's that going for you?"
I can tell why he wasn't going to say that. I seal my lips, crossing my arms in front of me until I can figure a way to get out of this.
"We're trying to protect you Noelle. Trust me, I would sit in a car with anyone else than you." He finally turns into the tiny space I call my driveway.
We can't go to New York. My entire life is here. Of course I know we're not moving, but still. Are we just expected to hide there like idiots and not live our lives? I'm going to start my third year of college in September. I still have things to prepare for before going back, and it's just a lot. That too, hiding from who? We don't know if these people even want something from us. We can still figure all of that out right here in Cardiff. I've never even been to New York. I don't know what I'm doing, and nor do Niall and Harry.
I start shoving a bunch of clothes and little things that I think I would need. I don't even know what to pack because this is all happening so fast. I pause to look at a photo frame of me and my mom. I was 5. I wish things were that simple. Everything's gotten so messed up in just 15 days. I can't leave. I need to stay here and fix all of this. But it's so unreasonable I know. This is actually the last place I should be. I'm still trying to scramble together as many clothes as I can. For warm and cold weather. There's so many other things on my mind that are interfering with my focus on all this.
"Don't worry about the clothes as much." Harry says from across my bedroom. His arms are crossed and he's leaning against my doorframe. "We have a lot of clothes for you and Harlow to wear on the island."
"Excuse me, island?"I drop all the clothes in my hand on my covers, raising my eyebrows. "I thought you said we're going to New York."
"We are. We're going to one of our hideout islands there." He states that so casually.
First of all, one of? And second of all, hideout? Hideout for what? I can't deal with this shit right now. There's so much to think about and process, adding this to it isn't going to help.
I huff, dropping the entire idea of bringing all this. I turn away from all the clothes, starting a path towards Harry. I think I just need to go with it. These people are after us, and for all I know, me. So I can't sit here wasting time in deciding which sweaters I should bring.
I don't even have to say anything to Harry. I walk past him and he immediately starts following me to the car. This trip is going to be long and bitter, so I better get comfy. Plus, I'm probably going to have to see Harry everyday for God knows how long.
I sink into the car seat, crossing my hands in front of me like Harry did. He starts the ignition and starts pulling out of my driveway. I stare at my house, sinking in all the memories. So many good memories. And bad of course. Just walking past my doorway still makes me nauseous. I just wish she was here to tell me what to do. I don't know what my life has become, and all the people in it. I guess hiding out in New York is the most normalcy I'll get. No one will hurt me or the people I love. It'll just be me and Harlow. And sadly Niall and Harry.
I sit upright and yank myself out of my thoughts when we randomly halt. I look at Harry, but he's looking at Niall shoving all his stuff in the backseat. I see all kinds of things: suits, shorts, pants, t-shirts, sweaters. He has so much to wear, yet he still wears that white t-shirt three times a week.
He nods his head to Harry, giving him a message of good luck. As if I'm the more difficult person here.
The car starts up again, and we hit the main road as soon as we make a turn. I guess this is where it starts. I don't even know what to expect. This is where my grief ends. Or starts. Not really sure.
I watch little droplets of rain travel smoothly along the car window. Within a blink, it's raining pretty heavily. I can see the dirt on the side of the road start to slowly turn into mud. I turn my head to Harry, who's returned to his previous position: One hand on the steering wheel and one hand stroking his hair.
My eyes drift involuntarily closed. I didn't even realize how tired I was. I just ate ice cream and watched TV. My thoughts quickly clear out and my mind falls asleep to the sound of the rain and Harry's breaths.
----
My eyes blink open carefully. The first sight I see when I barely wake up is the inside of Harry's car. Except I'm a little closer to the driver seat. Which is when I realize, my head is resting on Harry's shoulder.
And his hand is holding my arm.
I rush to get up and sit properly.
"Sorry." I mumble. I'm still half asleep.
How long has it been? It doesn't seem like it's been six hours yet. It's still raining, and it's grown a little colder. We're on some random highway I think.
"How long was I asleep?" I ask softly through the light music playing on the radio.
"Six hours." His voice is low and quiet.
What? It doesn't feel like that at all. He's probably just messing with me. I keep my eyes on the road until I see a sign that says Welcome to Staten Island. My heart jumps a little. I pull out my phone from the depths of my pocket and hurry to switch it on.
9:44PM.
I slept through the whole journey?
As we finally make it past the road, we start driving down a smaller road. There's a gate at the end of it, with what looks like a code box next to it. He really was serious about the whole hideout thing, huh? We continue driving down on the steep road. After a good five minutes, we reach another gate. It had said this was a storage area earlier though. What the hell are we doing here? The gates swing open, the road still looking like the past three we drove down. How much further is this god damn hideout? I really doubt anybody's going to come looking for us in the first place. Especially in a city like New York.
My eyes widen when we're on nothing but a tiny deck. There's only this unstable wooden surface holding us above the sea. I don't even think all this is necessary. I wet my bottom lip and chew on it as we get closer. With the ocean a foot away, I squeeze my eyes shut. Am I still alive? Am I breathing? I'm breathing. I think.
We reach the last gate, that reveals an enormous house. What kind of hideout is this? It looks really luxurious for a fucking hideout. I imagined a cabin, or a teensy apartment. This looks like the Singh's house. And Harry said one of. So there must be like four other versions of this house.
"Where are Harlow and Niall?" I don't turn while I ask him. I can't keep my eyes off of it.
"They're already here." He states as the garage automatically opens, revealing Niall's car.
He parks swiftly in the garage, my feet feeling a little numb as I plant my feet on the floor. It feels like this is my first time walking. I almost fall on my way inside, but as soon as I see what the inside of the house looks like, my mouth falls open.
The living room is huge. I think I could fit ten of my apartments in just the living room. Where does he get all this from? Where does he get money do afford all this? I've never seen him work at all. Hell, he wouldn't even bother to pick up a dirty mug that he used. Yet everything here is clean and spotless. The kitchen counter is literally shining. I'm lost at words.
"El!" Harlow appears from one of the many corners of this house. "I might just like your floor better than ours."
"Floor? What are you talking about?" I question as I watch Niall walk behind her. She's no longer covered in cuts and burns. She must've cleaned up before we came.
"Can I tell her? Oh please let me tell her!" She gestures to Niall, who nods watching her excitement. Why is she so happy about this? Is she high?
"Okay so we have like an elevator, and Niall and I will live upstairs on the second floor, and you and Harry will live on the ground floor. Just wait till you see what the fridge can do!" She hops over to the fridge, but a lump starts forming in my throat.
I have to live with Harry? I thought it was going to be me and Harlow and Niall and Harry. This just got ten times worse.
"Well we'll be upstairs. Goodnight." Harlow smiles before turning back to Niall and giving him a peck on the cheek.
You've got to be kidding me. This is torture. It's like having a smelly college roommate. But worse. Much, much worse. What if he wakes up at like 4 in the morning? Or he eats like a slob? He's already annoying I shouldn't be giving him ideas.
"Okay then. Goodnight." Harry presses his lips together while he goes towards the staircase.
I'm relieved. We're both going to our rooms and I won't have to see him for another 10 hours or so. I just want to go upstairs and melt into the bed. I'm so worn out from the car ride even if I slept the whole time. My back hurts.
Even the stairs are fancy. There are little LED lights that illuminate the bottom of the stairs. I feel bad for walking on them honestly. I follow Harry into a big bedroom that's just as clean as everything downstairs.
He turns to me, "This is my bedroom. Yours is the one next door."
I don't even say anything. I simply back out of the room. I'm so stupid. I just followed him into the room like a god damn idiot. I walk over to my room without another breath, shutting myself inside as soon as possible. I take a deep breath but almost choke on that breath after seeing how huge this room is. Why is everything so unnecessarily spacious? I think four other beds could fit in here.
In the next ten minutes, I shuffle through the closet for clothes to sleep in and a hair brush. I eventually end up in a white t-shirt and baggy sweatpants that are too big on me. I also thankfully found a first-aid kit underneath the bathroom sink. I seat myself on the bed with the entire kit laid out in front of me.
Nothing's fucking labeled so I don't know what to put. I struggle with one of the bottles, attempting to look at what's inside. But the lid randomly pops off, smacking me in between my eyebrows. Ow.
A faint laugh makes my head jolt upwards. Of course. Harry's peacefully leaning against the doorframe.
"What the hell are you doing?" He snickers as he steps inside my room.
"Well, I was trying to heal my cuts, but nothing's labeled." I sigh, dropping the bottle that just whacked me in the face.
He doesn't say anything, he just sits in front of everything I've laid out and me. He begins opening one of the mini lotion bottles. He takes a pea-sized amount of his index finger and rubs it on one of my random cuts on my collarbone. I flinch when he spreads it along my chest, and to my shoulder.
His hand raises to treat the cut on my cheek, but he seems a bit hesitant. The only reason I'm agreeing to this is because nothing's fucking labeled. Harry finally spreads the ointment along my cheek, his hand goes to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear so he can access the cut on my jawline. His hands are so smooth and swift across my face it almost feels nice minus the occasional stings. There's one cut that's placed inconveniently on my lip. But he doesn't hesitate to move his finger along my bottom lip. He stares at them for a moment before blinking a few times and returning to healing my scars.
I never realized how green his eyes were. They have a little hazel in the middle, but then they fade into a strong sage green. And his curls are so naturally beautiful. They hang from his head perfectly and rest just above his shoulders. He has a few freckles on his throat and jawline. No matter how much I dislike Harry, I can't seem to ignore his features.
"Okay I'm done." His voice yanks me out of my thoughts.
"How do you know what everything is?" I watch him put away all the first-aid kit things back under the bathroom sink.
"When you hurt yourself a few times, you tend to memorize the bottles." He grins a little, walking towards the door.
We silently look at each other from a distance for a moment before I speak to break the tension.
"Goodnight Harry." I jump back to rest my head against the pillow.
"Goodnight Noelle."