Psycho {H.S.}

Four

*edited*

I'm uneasily taken with his presence, his sense of authority. I can identify him as an alpha just from his height, tone of voice, and assertiveness. He takes my fingers from his mouth with a pop and reaches out the dry hand for me to take.

I don't think twice before placing my small hand into his much larger, masculine looking hand. He leans up to his full height and pulls me to my feet easily. I stumble once, but use his hand to regain balance quickly.

The air around us is thick and filled with white noise and unknown thoughts of what might happen. This man could easily take his knife to my throat and end it all, but I get a feeling that he won't be killing me tonight, based on the fact that if he wanted me dead, I would have been already.

His deep green eyes glare straight through my pupils and dialate, even though the lights haven't been turned on anywhere. "Show me around this place, Chris." He says in a tone so soft and rich that I almost ask him to tell me a bedtime story.

"It's not very big," I say and my eyes flutter, attempting to process what's happening before me. It's so quiet, his breathing is rough as a smirk plasters his face.

"Well that's just a matter of opinion," he mutters and we both just stare into each other's eyes for what seems like a century. His, piercing mine as if he's trying to claim gaze dominance, if that is even possible.

"Never mind size, just show me around now." He says and I continue to stare into his eyes, my head involuntarily nodding.

"W-well, if you look around here, you can see half of the place. The kitchen, the living room, and the bathroom door." I say slowly, prying my eyes from his and pointing to each place I mention.

When I look back to Harry, his eyes are focused on my lips intensely, but his eyes snap back up to mine quickly and he catches his breath.

"Where's the bedroom?" He asks and I nod my head, slipping my hand from his, feeling his calloused fingers and walking towards my bedroom door, next to the bathroom. The heavy footsteps behind me let me know he's following closely behind me. When I reach the door, I pull it open and step in, quickly running to my bed and fixing the sheets and I throw my old clothes into the hamper to make sure he doesn't see the mess and think I'm a big slob. I guess I kind of am, but I don't want him to think that. I guess that's the least of my worries.

He steps in and I turn around and intertwine my fingers behind my back. "Here's my room." I announce.

His eyes analyze every detail as he steps further into the room. He eyes down every piece of trash, picture, or book lying around. His scrutiny couldn't make me feel more intimidated.

He smirks while looking to the floor and bends down to pick up some pink panties, my favorite ones to be exact, and my face heats red as he holds it up to his eye level.

"Cute," he mutters and I reach up to snatch them from him, but he holds them higher, then quickly places them into his back pocket.

"Hey, give those back!" I say and test my luck by reaching behind him, but instead, he reaches his hands around my waist and pulls me into him. My chest smacks into his and I struggle in his grip, but he holds his own.

"What I touch, becomes mine." He growls into my ear, and I groan in pain when he tightens his hold around me.

"But you're touching me, so let go!" I yell in fear and push his chest, he finally releases me and I stumble back.

"Exactly."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snap back.

"You're mine."

"No I'm not." I say and roll my eyes.

"Yes, you are. And don't roll your eyes at me, that's fucking ugly." He spits in anger and I notice his fists clench beside him.

"So is your attitude." I say and fold my arms defiantly.

"My attitude! Do you know who you're talking to, young lady?" He says with flared nostrils and takes a couple steps towards me, towering over me. I look up face to face with him, his hot breath blanketing my face in rage and I decide now would be the best time to stop fighting him.

"I'm sorry," I murmur and look to the floor almost submissively. A wide smirk takes form across his face and he takes a step back.

"Good girl. Know your place if you know what's good for you. We'll share the bed for tonight, and I'm a light sleeper so if you try to escape or even move a muscle, I'll know." He says and starts pulling off his shirt, starting from the bottom and pulling it up and off displaying his perfectly toned body. I stare in shock at the markings that adorn his skin. Scars that spell out horrible things he must believe of himself. I want to ask about them, but I don't know this man. He is evil.

"I-I'll just take the couch outside-"

"Sleep with me." He demands and I flinch at the tone he uses. Venom slithering from his lips with each word so I choose to obey.

"Okay. What side do you prefer? Left or right. I'm more of a right kinda gal." I say trying to lighten the mood. Bad idea.

"I want the right side than." He says with a smirk and I open my mouth to complain but he's quick to hold up his pointer finger to shush me.

"Tsk, tsk, baby girl. Just go lie down." He says and I let out a nervous breath. I keep my eyes glued to his as I make my way to the bed, crawling into the left side and attempting to protect myself with the blanket. As if a sheet for warmth could protect you from the monsters in your closet, or under your bed, or murderers demanding you share the bed with them. Nothing can protect you from that.

"I need a shower, I'm covered in blood. If you move a muscle, you're next love." He says and steps into the hallway and into the bathroom next to my room. I hear the shower water start and my mind starts swirling with what to do. Do I take this time to run outside and catch an officer and tell him what happened, or do I stay and possibly get murdered for the sake of writing an amazing memoir about this later? And maybe I could write my essay about this. It is a big portion of our grade, and if I do everything Harry says, then I might be able to escape him. I just have to gain his trust.

I must have let my mind wander for ages, because the water shuts off and I look at the clock on my bedside table and realize I've been pondering for over ten minutes. I guess I have made up my mind. 

Harry walks back in wearing only his boxers. "I'm using your hydrogen peroxide to soak my clothes in tonight. That should take the blood out and they should be clean tomorrow." I try and focus on the words he is saying and not seem extremely terrified, but my eyes keep wandering to his scars and the hair just above his-.

"Now I'm going to get in you- get into bed with you." He says, correcting himself quickly. My face burns to an unnatural heat and I'm glad it's dark so he can't see it too well.

He crawls into the bed and lies, facing me. "Goodnight." I say and turn to face the other way. My racing thoughts are crazy, but my body gives into the shock and exhaustion and I pass out.