Who'd You Rather? (H.S.) [ONGOING]

Part Sixty-Eight

That Monday, after Tegan finished her lectures and schoolwork, she decided to take a run. She knew if she was going to keep having marathon sex with Harry, she was going to need to stay fit. She used to be a distance runner in high school, but right now she felt so out of shape.

The watermelon remedy didn't work as well as Harry thought it would. And she hated feeling so sore after any sort of intimacy with him, so she decided to shove her earbuds in, blasting Mind of Mine by Zayn as she took a good long run around her neighborhood. Zayn had the perfect vibe to keep her motivated because he sang about sex so naturally and so very well. And that seemed to be all that she and Harry wanted to do as of late. She loved exploring that side of their relationship with him.

She had been a little frightened even thinking about leaving her house after the nightmare she had. So before even opening her front door, Tegan let Harry know what she was doing and where she would be, and that she would call or text when she was home safe. She also had her phone set for him to know her location, just in case. That nightmare really fucked her up and she was going to take every precaution, but she didn't want fear to dictate her life.

She ran nearly four miles before she decided she'd had enough. She walked the last mile home, sweating her ass off in the California afternoon sun as she did. When she got about a block away from her house, her eyes caught on something and it caused her to immediately stop in her tracks, anxiety shooting through her like a jolt of electricity.

She quickly ripped the ear buds out of her ears and looked around, feeling a shiver of fear run up her spine. This can't be happening.

Just one block over from her house was the black car with the Nevada license plates. The same car she saw the stalkerazzi driving, or rather sitting in, occasionally in her neighborhood – while the other handful of times it sat empty, which meant he was actively out stalking. It was no different now. He was nowhere to be seen and there was something about it that made her feel very seen. He literally could have been anywhere.

It was getting out of hand, to a scary degree. He was definitely stalking her, not Harry. And her nightmare was suddenly looping through her head.

Fuck , fuck , fuck.

Tegan swallowed hard and dug her phone out of the pocket of her leggings. Her hands were shaking as fear shot through her. But she knew she needed to get some sort of proof if something was ever going to be done about this guy. She managed to snap a few pictures of the car and the license plate before she darted away, running back to her house.

As soon as she locked herself inside, she immediately called Harry as she paced back and forth on the living room floor, thinking about how in her nightmare the man had her tied up on that very same floor, holding her at knifepoint.

"Hey, you," Harry cooed sweetly into the phone when he answered.

"H-Harry," she stuttered, feeling the panic start to set in.

"Tegan, what's wrong?" He asked, noticing the frightened tone in her voice right away.

"Um... uh... um..." She stammered as she quickly went to her bedroom and threw open her closet door to make sure no one was hiding in there.

"Tegan, tell me what's wrong," Harry said sternly.

"I uh, I saw that... that car in my neighborhood. The stalker guy. His car. The one with the Nevada license plates," she explained in fragments because that was how her mind was working.

She quickly dropped to her knees to check under her bed before getting up to check all the other little nooks and crannies of her house where a person might be able to squeeze themself into.