Captive (Sequel to Infatuation)

Chapter 16

(just know that four songs always means a switch in POV, okay. idk why I feel that's necessary to say. love you all & enjoy x)

SONG(s) FOR CHAPTER: 

♬ Paranoid by Black Sabbath ♬ 

♬ Mad World by Gary Jules ♬  

♬ Fix You by Coldplay ♬  

♬ Demons by Imagine Dragons ♬  

CHAPTER 16

♕ HARRY STYLES ♕

I WAS FEELING bad again. Now just a random spurt of sadness that the ordinary person feels when they're merely bored. It's the other kind of bad. The kind where my own mind was falling into an abyss without my capability of halting the process. There was never any stopping it.

It was Friday morning, the day Grace was leaving to go with that Evan kid and the night before my next fight. Grace would get back Sunday just as I would be leaving. Could the possibility of us not surviving a second chance be what's dragging me back into the dark hole?

I stumbled into the kitchen, blinking multiple times to get the sleep out of my eyes, and—all too hopeful—try to get the voices out of my head. I should've seen this coming the day I had my episode. It always goes straight downhill after an episode. Why did I think a little happiness could fix that?

Opening the draw in the hotel kitchen where I stuffed the pill bottle Dr. Miles gave me. I gripped it tightly, glaring at it as if it were the Devil himself taunting me. I remembered Grace's plea for me to take them, for me to trust them and her and the doctors.

But then I remembered the dizziness, the clouded vision, the feeling of floating and not being able to keep my eyes open. The feeling of being unaware, incapable of defending myself if I need to. I don't like not being alert. I don't like not being in control.

Clenching my jaw, I popped open the lid. I stared at the little white tablets for what seemed like ages, praying Jacob wouldn't ruin his streak of sleeping late. I didn't want him to start asking questions. I didn't want him to give me the look that everyone knew was the confirmation of insanity. I wasn't crazy.

I wasn't.

A migraine forming, intensely throbbing in the back of my skull, I grumbled under my breath before tilting the bottle over the sink and watching each pill glide away from me. Down, down, down the drain. I turned on the water after, let it run for a bit to get rid of any evidence in case someone were to look in the pipes. Call it paranoia, but I let the water run for five minutes exactly before shutting it off.

After tucking the empty bottle into my suitcase, I wandered back into the kitchen and pressed my forehead against the cool steel of the refrigerator. I closed my eyes, tried to focus on a thought other than the pain in my head. I measured my breathing, counting the seconds it took for my pulse to slow.

Knots twisted tightly in the pit of my stomach, making me scrunch my face as if it could subdue the pain. I hated myself at that moment. Why couldn't I be normal? Why did the previous actions of my father so long ago continue to haunt me? Why couldn't I just forget everything that ever troubled me?

The sound of slippers lazily sliding across the hardwood flooring made me straighten, throw on a stoic expression, and pretend everything in the world was utterly fine. That I was utterly fine.

"Up early, again?" muttered Jacob, groaning as he rubbed his forehead. "I really hate mornings. Did I ever tell you that?"

I busied myself with the coffee maker to avoid his eyes. "Only every morning." I tried to laugh, prayed he couldn't hear the falseness of it.