Psychotic (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

"What do you think you're doing in here?" I reluctantly turned around, not wanting to face the person behind me. Once I did, though, I was a little relieved. It was a middle aged red-haired woman. I had never seen her before in my life.

"I'm sorry, it was my lunch break so I was just having a look around."

"Well you're not allowed to be in here," she said in a condescending tone.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I quickly scurried away, trying to avoid any more conversation. I hope she didn't tell Mrs. Hellman of my whereabouts. But then again, she hadn't even asked for my name.

I walked the long way back to the nurses office, glad to just have a moment to sit down and relaxed. For some reason I felt tired and needed to get a small rest. But as I stepped into the main part of the building, I looked at the clock. It was noon, which meant I had to go supervise while the patients at lunch again. I groaned in dread as I realized a certain curly-haired criminal would be there.

I reluctantly shuffled down the hall and swung open the cafeteria doors. Nobody payed any attention to me, as usual, and they all went about their activities. I made my way to the back so I could easily watch over the patients. It was a simple job, really. People didn't act out as much as you'd think, but when they did, the security would always get there before me. I would just have to sedate them or find a way to calm them down if needed.

Hopefully I wouldn't have to do that today, though, because I was dead tired. I didn't know why but it seemed that with every passing second I grew more and more exhausted. I slumped back against the wall and felt my eyelids getting heavy. But they suddenly snapped open when I heard a husky voice beside me. "Hey."

I turned abruptly to see Harry right next to me, copying my stance, resting his back against the wall. A cigarette was hanging out of the corner of his mouth which made his masculine jawline more prominent. The pack the smoke had came from was being held in one of his large hands. I had to fight the urge to turn and run, our previous encounter not forgotten.

"You want one?" he asked, captivating eyes motioning toward his cigarette.

"No, I don't smoke," I said, my tone a little more unfriendly than I had expected.

He shrugged and set the pack on a table nearby. "So, Rose - that is your name right?"

I nodded.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty."

"I'm twenty-two."

"Why are you talking to me?" I asked abruptly. He was a little taken back and raised his eyebrows, only to have them come back together in thought.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "The guards are no fun to talk to and everyone else in here is insane."

"Oh, so you're not insane?"

"I never said that."

I didn't reply as he took a long drag of his cigarette with the color of it looking whiter as usual against his rosy lips. "So why are you so afraid of me? You have no reason to be, you know."

I shook my head, confused. The reasons were obvious. "Well for starters you skinned three women-"

"And you believe that?" Harry interrupted, raising an eyebrow again.

"Yeah, why else would you be in an institution for the criminally insane?"

He looked like he was about to interject, but I continued before he could. "And who said I was afraid of you anyway?"