favorite crime [h.s]

twenty eight

My eyes shoot open in a startle when I hear the faint ringing of the doorbell, the sound echoing through my home. I feel my heart pounding against ribcage, the fact that I was jerked from my sleep is not doing well with my nerves. My breathing is steady as I keep my eyes on the dark ceiling above me, making sure that I didn't imagine the sound.

Right when it rings again, I get out of bed and grab my glasses from the bedside table. Only in my big shirt and shorts, I stumble down the cold hallway until I reach the front door. I could've thought that the person has already left given how long I took to open the door but I was so wrong.

There he was, sitting on the carpet floor of the hallway against the wall next to my front door. He looks like a mess despite the little view on the side of his face. His skin is unhealthily pale, dark wrinkles under his eyes which probably match mine from being woken up at two AM.

"Harry," I mumble, my voice finally makes him look at me, allowing me a better look at his features.

His dark lips are parted as he stares at me with bloodshot eyes, knees pulled to his chest with his arms hugging around his shin.

"What are you doing here?" I crouch down beside him, the cold breeze of the hallway grazing my bare skin, making me shiver.

"I didn't know where else to go," He mumbles in a slur.

He doesn't look at me anymore but I frown at his words, I'm sure he has his own home to go to so why did he come to me?

"Are you high?" I question then but he still keeps his head down, purposely not allowing me to see his eyes. Having no other option, I take his chin between my fingers and gently turn his head to me which he allows. His eyes are red in their full glory, telling me that he is in fact high. "What did you take?"

He yanks his face away from my touch and my hand falls to my lap. It's clear as hell that he doesn't want to answer that question either and rather keeps his mouth shut.

"Have you been drinking too?" I try again, and at least he shakes his head.

"Can I come in?" He looks at me with pleading eyes like he's silently begging me to say yes. It's not my responsibility to look after Harry when he's drunk or high but I don't want to tell him to go either.

I nod. He takes my hand to help him off the floor, struggling a bit to stay on his two feet but we manage to enter my apartment. Closing the door behind us, the warm air immediately brings chills through my body.

Harry's just standing there, his eyes roaming over my place like it's the first time. I won't take it offensively, even though he could be silently making fun of me for the mess in my home.

"You can lie down on the couch in the living room, I'll get you a glass of water," I propose and wait for his little nod before I walk into the kitchen.

There's a dead silence while I grab a glass and pour it with water. I just pray that Harry finds his way to the couch and doesn't faint on the way over. Like in Miami, I have no idea what to do with people who are under the influence of drugs and that thought makes me a bit nervous.

I walk back into the hallway holding the glass in one hand. To my surprise, Harry is still standing there but his eyes are fixated straight ahead. Confused of what's going on, my eyes follow his and I realise that his gaze is on the living room which looks like a black hole due to the darkness.

"Do you want me to turn the light on?" I ask, remembering that he has troubles with the dark.

Not waiting for an answer, I enter the pitch black room and turn on the lamp in the corner. The dim light is enough to light up the room but not bright enough to blind us.