Stockholm Syndrome {h.s}

Five

That morning I woke up with something on me that was weighing me down; not something, someone. Oh no, please not him. I look down and there he was, sound asleep, our body's entwined with one another's. How did I manage to not wake up from his weight before? His head of brown, soft curls lays on my chest, soft snores escaping his pink pulp lips and his muscular arm is under my back holding me, our legs tangled together. Light sweat covers my forehead from the heat Harry's weight is causing. The duvet is somewhat being useful, covering our knees. I'm not sure how I feel about our position right now, I mean, yes I hate Harry for the most part but last night.. was something else; drunk or not, it was really nice to have a normal conversation with him. I look down at his arms, getting a better look at his tattoos since he moved last time I was admiring them. All of the ink in his arms is so beautiful; I could stare at them all day. Every single one has it's own meaning. I caught one on his arm that is placed beside our body's that reads 'I CAN'T CHANGE' which is now my favourite because despite how cruel Harry is, he can't change and his opinion on himself is the only one that truly matters. Ten minutes pass of tracing Harry's tattoos with my fingers and I'm loving laying here with him. No, I can't think this way. He kidnapped you, Lia. Get that through your head. I just can't seem to though can I? I sign. Before my brain can catch up to the thoughts I just told myself, my fingers are running through Harry's soft long curls gently but slowly. I stop my hand as Harry's eyes flutter open and he lifts his head.

"Oh, um," his raspy deep voice speaks as he climbs off of my body, realizing our body's are attached like glue and paper. He moves off of me but our hot skin in still touching considering the bed is just a single. "Morning." he speaks again, voice still raspy from his sleep.

"Good morning." I greet back. Watching him as he rubs his eyes, still tired. He smiles, dimples appearing once again when he notices my stare with causes me to smile and look away.

"You're hungry I'm guessing?" he asks the obvious.

My stomach growls in hunger. "Does that answer your obvious question?" I tease him but slightly afraid he'll be the rude and selfish Harry who won't be in a playful mood anymore since the alcohol has rubbed off of his body.

He lets out a small laugh. I guess he is in a good mood this morning. "Pancakes and coffee sound good?" he asks, watching me. I nod in approval. Anything would be good to eat right now since I've only ate once in three days. Harry's moves the duvet and stands to retrieve his shirt, showing off some more of his tattoos to me swallows appearing and I can't stop starring at his perfect torso, a butterfly is inked into his chest. The small window letting in the sunshine from outside. It would be nice to let in some fresh air in my lungs. Harry bends down and picks up his shirt and puts it on, covering his chest and then his socks and boots come next. After Harry is dressed, he walks to the door reaching for the handle.

"Wait," I stop him, making him look to me, giving me his full attention. "Can you take this chain off and let me take a shower? I feel gross." I tell him. His features are soft and he stares at me for a couple seconds, deciding if he can trust me to take a shower.

"You have ten minutes." he tells me. I nod and thank him as he disappears and comes back with a key a minute later. The damn chain is off of me and Harry walks me to the small but updated bathroom, giving me a pair of black leggings, one of his baggy, black t-shirts and panties to change into when done my warm shower and also telling me I will have to use his shampoo and conditioner. I thank him once again and start to run the water, letting it warm up. Harry leaves me in the bathroom alone to undress and step into the shower.

Ten minutes pass like Harry told me and I get changed into the clothes Harry had gave me. When I slip on Harry's black t-shirt it reaches down to half past the middle of my thighs and it smells just like him which is my new favourite sent. Sebastian has always smelt nice but not as amazing as Harry. Sebastian. I miss my mother and Sebastian so so much. I run my fingers through my long brown and now clean hair as a brush and dry it slightly with a towel before putting my hair back into a pony tail, exiting the bathroom and go to the kitchen to look for Harry. I would try to escape now but Harry's words have made me think and some food would be nice right now. I find him at the stove with a pan on the heater and spatula in hand, a plate of many delicious looking crispy pancakes beside him on the counter.

"Smells good." I complement on Harry's cooking. He smiles proudly.

"I'm really good at making pancakes. When I was little, my mum always used to say I made the best in London and that I should open my own pancake restaurant when I was older." he tells me with a frown on his face as he remembers the memories about his mother and back in London. He watches the pancakes bake on the hot pan.

"I'll be the judge of that." I tease him, smiling up at him and trying to bring the happy mood back. He looks down at me and into my eyes smiling, but then his eyes rake down my body. He eyes keep going down, and up, down, and up while his tongue popping out of his mouth to lick his lips. I clear my voice to get him to look back into my eyes, feeling a little uncomfortable with him looking at me like that instead he keeps admiring my body. I'm not quite sure what he's looking at, most of my curves are hidden under his large shirt but the leggings are skin tight so my curvy thighs are mostly shown off to his eyes

"Harry!" I say loudly and wave my hand in front of his face, hoping to finally get his attention.

"Hm." he says, snapping out of his stare and looks back into my brown eyes.

I nervously laugh. "I think your pancakes are burnt." I tell him as I look at the steam coming from under the pancakes.

"Shit!" he shouts, looking back down at the pan and flips the now burnt pancakes. I wonder where the selfish Harry has gone to. Harry is so difficult. He's not even drunk and he's in a good mood this morning. I look at the clock on the stove and it reads 1:27pm. Brunch sounds good.

I smirk. "Those ones are yours." I joke.

"Ha-ha." He puts the burnt pancakes onto the spatula and walks over to the garbage and drops them into the plastic bag. My stomach growls again.

"Where are the plates?" I ask him not being able to wait any longer for food to be in my stomach. Harry walks over to a cabinet to his right and grabs out two black plates, handing one to me. Does everything of his have to be black? His least favourite colour must be white. I'm surprised Harry hasn't brought up how he woke up this morning in the room I stay in or how, more surprising he hasn't talked about the fact we were cuddling.

Ten minutes later and I'm grabbing my eighth pancake and plopping it onto my plate. His mother is right, his pancakes are amazing. I drizzles syrup onto the crispy golden pancake and begin to cut it with my fork. "So," I start conversation. "What are we doing today?" I ask him, curiosity taking over from his words just last night.

Harry leans back in his wooden chair at the table and smirks. "We have a date. So go get ready, I brought some things from your house. They're in your room." He informs me. Date? I try not to act so heartbroken when he beings up my home and calling the room that I've been staying in my room, if I did he might see how weak I am and how little of effort he does but succeeding to make me weak and upset.

"Okay," is my reply with a little over a whisper which doesn't help to let him see I'm not that easy to get to. I finish my pancake and put my plate into the sink. I offer to wash the dishes but Harry just laughs and tells me to get ready for today's date.

***

Hello everyone. I have been thinking to maybe but songs to go with the chapters. Comment if you like that idea or not :). Remember to vote and comment!