S T O C K H O L M S Y N D R O M E

Chapter Eleven

Harry Styles' POV

Taylor went back to sleep straight away, and my mind was still stuck on her speech.

She hit her head pretty hard, of course she'd be acting a bit strange.

What I don't understand is why did I even think about pouring hot soup on her?

The thing was, I wanted to spill it on the side, so she would have to clean it up, but my hand burned and I dropped it.

Fuck.

I'm so fucked.

She left the door open, and I climbed the ladder and entered her toilet.

I could escape!

But I can't leave her like this.

My hands were slightly stained with her blood, and I washed it off, going out to find some supplies.

About ten minutes later I went back down with bandages, ice, tablets, disinfectant and water.

I heard groaning coming from the other side of the room as I jumped off the ladder.

"Wh-what am I doing here," she said, eyes opening.

"You had a bowl smash onto your head and hot soup poured on you,"

I paused, waiting for a reaction but I didn't get one.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking and-"

"Leave it, just give me the stuff," She cut me off and tried getting up, but again she was weak and in pain.

"I'll help you, don't get up,"

"I don't need help, I'm perfectly
capable of doing things on my own. See, I can- agh!"

"Very capable, and, you were meant to fall again and start writhing in pain right?"

"Fucking hell,"

"Indeed," I rolled my eyes at the stubborn girl.

"Ok fine, maybe I can't do this on my own, I'm sorry. Could you help me please?" She reluctantly let out.

"Since you ask so nicely, why not,"

"So, you can put the bandages on and then I'll be fine,"

"Sure sure love, but aren't you forgetting you have a severe burn and dried blood on your skin? You need to shower,"

"Of course I do," she grumbled.

"Well?" She asked. "Aren't you going to help me up?"

"Oh!"

I hoisted her up and she leaned against me, her body with mine.

My ears felt bright red and warm.

I couldn't think straight, I had a hot girl basically hugging me.

Yeah, I know what you're going to say, and no, I don't like her, she's just pretty I guess.

Many girls are pretty, right?

"Styles, are we going to move or not?" She groaned.

"Sorry,"

I got her to to the bed so she could sit for a bit.

"Ok, I'm going to go shower,"

"I'll be here,"

I was literally here just because of guilt, I thought, as I heard the shower turning on.