RUN AWAY || H.S

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟐*

A/N: This chapter will have mild mature content, so if you are underage or uncomfortable reading smuts skip this chapter. Also, this will be the only warning regarding mature content since I have already warned about it in the Intro & Characters chapter as well as in the description of this book. Also, this book is marked as MATURE! So, you have been warned!

Alana's POV.

The next thing I see is going to haunt me for life. No, scratch that—it's worse than any horror movie.

I freeze, my body going rigid as my brain struggles to process the nightmare unfolding in front of me. My stomach churns, and for a moment, I genuinely consider gauging my own eyes out just to erase the image from my mind.

"Oh. My. God."

I swallow hard, backing away slowly, making sure I don't make a sound. My heart is pounding in my ears, my hands trembling slightly. I need to get out of here before I actually puke. Before I collapse from second-hand embarrassment. Before I scream.

The moment I'm safely in the hallway, I spin around and power-walk straight to the elevator, slamming the button with more force than necessary. The doors take forever to open, and when they finally do, I rush inside, pressing the button to Harry's floor like my life depends on it.

I don't even stop to think. My feet just move.

Harry. I need Harry.

I barely register punching in the entrance code—211067, his mother's birthday, because of course, he's a mama's boy. Normally, I'd tease him about it, but right now, it's the last thing on my mind. This is an emergency. A full-blown crisis.

The second I step inside, a warm, sweet scent fills my nostrils. My panic momentarily takes a backseat as I frown. Is he... baking?

I follow the aroma to the kitchen and find him standing in front of the oven, dressed in a gray tank top and black shorts, ear pods tucked in his ears. One hand rests on his hip while the other holds an oven mitt, his eyes focused intently on whatever is inside.

Without thinking, I creep up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist.

"Holy mother of sweet Jesus!" He jumps nearly two feet in the air, spinning around with wide eyes, his hand clutching his chest. "Alana! You scared the shit out of—wait. What are you doing here at this time?"

I exhale sharply, my hands still clutching his sides. "I saw something. Something horrible."

His brows furrow as he studies my face. "What did you see?"

I motion for him to lean down. When he does, I whisper, "I saw them."

He blinks, confused. "Saw who?"

"Them, Harry!" I hiss, gripping his shirt like I'm about to shake some sense into him. "THEM!"

"Baby bug, I have no idea who you're talking about. Be specific."

I let out an exaggerated sigh, feeling a little dramatic but not caring. "I saw Niall and Kiara fucking. On the kitchen counter. Where I eat, Harry! Where I fucking eat!"

For a second, he just stares at me. And then, he bursts out laughing.

Like full-on, head-thrown-back, hand-clapping, stomach-clutching, tears-in-his-eyes laughing.

I stand there, arms crossed, watching him with a glare as he practically wheezes from laughter. "Are you done yet?" I snap.

It takes him another few seconds to calm down, his shoulders still shaking. He wipes away a tear before pulling me into his arms. "Oh, my poor baby bug, c'mere. You must be scarred for life."