Misery Loves Company (H.Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 45

Sorry for the long wait but I had lots of exams and this week had been hell with school and stuff!

-katexx

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Chapter 45

This is certainly not how I imagined the day. 

When Harry told me we would go out and visit the city, I was thinking that I would wake up late, get ready while I wait for him to arrive from whatever he had to do this morning, and we’d take off in his Range Rover to London. I was thinking we could spend some time together, not talk and just guess each other’s thoughts while taking pictures with his phone in front of the London Bridge or Big Ben. I was hoping I could taste Yorkshire Tear and eat something very English, or even maybe go to a pub. 

If I had access to Google, I would’ve searched different English traditions that you have to see or try if you ever go to London. I’ve never been on a double decker and ever since the movie What A Girl Wants came out, I’ve wanted to take a picture with those guards and try to make them laugh. Too many possibilities, yet this is not what seems to be happening right now.

No. This is certainly not how I imagined the day at all. With a handcuff holding me to the bed. At least I have the television on.

“I promise this is only until Liam arrives,” Harry said this morning before he walked through the door, sending me an apologetic glance as he shut the bedroom door soundlessly. He gave me time make myself breakfast and helped me put my bandages back on after taking a shower. “It should only be two or three hours.”

So I’ve been tied to the bed for two hours now, my breakfast untouched by my side and the movie on TV coming to an end. I picked Star Trek, knowing that it would last for a few hours. Then I figured I could watch the news or the weather channel, but I hadn’t expected the day to start this way.

“The studio will take longer than just morning. I promise we’ll spend another day together,” he apologized, rushing through the house to get dressed in time. I watched him run up and down the stairs when he forgot his wallet, then another time when he realized his phone was still charging in the bathroom.

And when I asked why I had to be cuffed, he sighed and bit his knuckle. “I didn’t have time to clean up all the razors or sharp objects in the house. I’d rather have you safely cuffed than harming yourself.”

Great. 

Now I’m waiting for my babysitter Liam to come entertain me for the day as the credits roll on the television screen. I’ve gotten around discovering which channel is which, but the weather channel is still a mystery to me. For the few times I had the chance to go to the park with Harry, I always forgot to check the temperature on TV. Therefore, when they say it is 24°c, I still have no idea what that means. In Boston, when it’s 24 degrees, I wear a winter coat, boots, a hat and gloves, and I turn on the heat at its max in the house. 

I toss and turn on the bed, trying to break free from the restrain, but not a single attempt works. As much as I wish I had the strength to pull harder and try again, the bandage on my wrist starts rubbing off and the skin gently scrapes off right beneath the white protection. So I give up and simply groan at my sad fate.

I could be angry right now and throw a tantrum. I could be screaming at the top of my lungs and crying to exhaustion, but I don’t see the point. There isn’t anyone to hear me and I believe Harry tied me up with good intentions. Who knows what I would’ve ended up doing. God, I speak like a mental person. And now I’m talking to myself.

Everything is out of my reach except for the television remote. I spy a notepad and a pen on top of the dresser right by the picture frame, where Harry’s journal would normally be sitting. If I had a few more feet of body length, I could definitely reach for it, but it’s too far. So I try to think of a strategy that could help me get this notepad. I pull hard on the sheet covering my body until it untucks itself from the bottom of the bed, and I ball it up and twist it to create a long, firm rope. Harry will probably snap when he finds his bed in this state, but I’ve gone desperate to get this stupid notepad. What am I going to write anyway? So with the credits rolling on the television and the music playing from the end of the movie, blocking my thoughts, I throw the sheet with my free hand as far as possible. It falls right on top of the notepad but the item doesn’t budge.