They Don't Know About Us (Harry Styles fanfic)

Chapter Eighteen: In the basement, what joy.

Is this seriously chapter eighteen? NO WAY!! How long have I been writing this and only chapter eighteen?? Well...

ENJOY READING THIS BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE :-D

ALEX

"Adrian."

The moment that name leaves his lips, both Harry and I are stunned into silence. The only sound in the room is our increased breathing, Harry's warm hand finding mine and intertwining our fingers.

"Adrian as in 'Adrian Styles?" I questioned, fear lacing my tone.

"Yes."

"B-But he's in prison!" I protested. "It can't be him."

Harry didn't say anything. I had a feeling he didn't know what to say. His father. His abusive, horrible, demeaning excuse for a father was back. After escaping from him once, I sure as hell didn't want to return.

"Forget that." TM muttered, crouching on the floor and yanking open the door. "Get in. Now."

Without waiting for a response, he climbed the stairs to get to the basement. His footsteps were quiet yet audible. I turned to look at Harry. His face was emotionless, eyes locked on the plain duvet beneath us.

"You okay?" I softly asked, running my thumb over his knuckles.

He didn't answer for a second. Then, "y-yeah, I'm fine." He offered me a weak smile, and tilted his head towards the open trapdoor. "Let's go."

"Okay."

Trudging down the steps, the flickering light hanging from the ceiling dimly lit the room. Neither Harry or I spoke as we observed out surroundings.

"Well," I mumbled, "at least it's cosy."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's a dump." He snapped.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Dude, I was trying to stay positive."

"I know. Sorry."

Shrugging, I turned back to where TM stood, rifling through boxes of blankets and pillows. There didn't seem to be any sleeping bags or any sort of sleeping attire at all. Sighing, I lead Harry to where TM stood, clinging to his hand.

"How long do you reckon we'll be down here?" Harry asked, eyes flickering between the closed trapdoor and the carelessly discarded boxes.

"As long as Adrian is here."

Harry nodded; didn't respond. I was confused as to why TM was protecting us by keeping us down here, where Adrian can't touch us. He injured Harry, badly, and scared me half to death in that alleyway. I wasn't going to be nice to him in anyway, he's caused enough trouble. But then... Shouldn't I feel gratitude to him for helping Harry and I at this present time? I don't OWE him, though. He's hurt us already, so I owe him nothing.

A sudden thought struck me. I froze, suddenly chilled. Harry felt my body tense and shot me a questioning look.

"Harry," I whispered, "what if Adrian isn't really here? What if it's a trap to keep us locked in here?"

Harry didn't answer at first. His eyes stared into mine, face expression less. Then his brows knitted together, a worried look gracing his stunning features. I didn't like the way he tightened his hold on my hand. It made me wonder what bad thoughts were running through his troubled mind. I wanted to kiss the crease between his eyebrows away, but I held back, knowing not to disturb whatever was going through Harry's head. He needed peace, not distractions.

TM turned around, facing Harry and I. "I have to leave for a bit, okay? Don't make a sound."

I couldn't see his facial expression since it was hidden behind that bloody balaclava. Not being able to see what he looked like deeply irritated me because it's easier to determine whether someone is telling the truth by looking at them. The only feature I could distinguish was the bright blue of his eyes. They were cold and hard (A/N: that sounded wrong lol :P).