Target (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 9

(Longer chapter than usual, hope you enjoy xx)

Math. I really need to finish my math assignments. Something about the Law of Cosines or some other useless trigonometric concept. Wait, what about my other assignments from school? I don't have any trace of memory besides the morning I left when I- oh... 

A hand clasped over my mouth. A wet cloth reeking of an unforgettable odor. My heart beating hard out of my chest. Noises from the vehicle I was forced to ride engulfing me. My vision becoming fuzzy as I immediately blacked out.

No wonder my memory has failed to recollect anything from school. Harry Styles. He kidnapped me and- hold up. Where am I now?

I still lay on a bed, not daring to open my eyelids from exhaustion. Feeling around for my green plush and fluffy blanket- a unique texture might I add, nothing. Instead of cotton lying beneath my body, it was silk. My eyes shot open upon the foreign feeling. 

Instantaneously, I sat up. My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the complete darkness of the room. Obviously I was in some sort of bedroom- definitely not mine. There wasn't a shred of light anywhere, indicating nighttime? I brought my knees to my chest in slight panic. Pure darkness tended to frighten me easily. The same fright being heightened during intense thunderstorms. In my earlier childhood years I used to have panic attacks during a storm- not my finest moments.

I realized that I still had my school uniform on. What exactly has Harry done with me in my unconscious state...? Holy shit. That's right he chloroformed me. He fucking drugged me into this condition. To think that all of this is inevitably taking place because of my clumsiness. After all, if I hadn't of fallen at school before my first classes, I wouldn't have exchanged glances with this psychopath. Maybe then I would be at home relaxing whilst watching Big Bang Theory reruns. I randomly chuckled at the thought of Sheldon Cooper, the show's highly logical thinker and comic fan, being abducted like myself. How would he deal with this? As though it was tutting at the spontaneous thoughts of Sheldon,  my subconscience mentally kicked me back to reality. Right! This is not the time to think about television nerds. 

Feeling an ounce of bravery coursing through my veins, I crawled across the silky sheet covered bed in order to go and investigate. From what I could deduce, this bed was enormous.  My maneuvering was quite slow and shaky since I had no idea where the edge of the mattress was due to the rooms total darkness. 

Clearly God was not on my side. Once again- because of the pitch blackness, I unfortunately found myself tumbling off of the bed. 

"Fuck!" I quietly muttered. My head got a significant blow, being that it was the first part to hit the ground. In addition, pain surged through my back. I reluctantly sat up until I was in a kneeling position. As though my prayers had been answered, light illuminated the  room.

My eyes blinked a few times to adjust to the brightly lit room. I couldn't be anymore happier to finally have vision. However, I got a bad feeling in my gut that Mr. Styles is awaiting to pounce at any moment. 

The walls of the room were an off white color. A Nirvana and Ramones poster hung here and there. Nice taste in music. The bed in front of me which I was placed upon had grey silk sheets and several tossed pillows. Like I assumed, before my disastrous plummet off of the bed, it was indeed huge. Probably king size. Several other pieces of furniture were distributed. A curtain covered window at my left. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"Evening, Sleeping Beauty." I heard a deep chuckle from behind me. 

I turned to find Harry leant against one side of the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest. His curly hair laid beautifully disheveled on his head. Muscles flexing every so often. Long and lanky frame dressed in its usual black attire followed with white Converse. He looks nothing more than just a hot, moody, and extremely hot teenage boy. My wandering orbs travelled back up to his facial visage. Eyes and dimpled smile filled with slight humor. Humor? This is odd.