Psychotic (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Harry's dark eyes bored into mine but I couldn't tell what emotion they held. He was angry though, I knew that much. For some reason I felt guilty, like I had been caught in an infidelity and I couldn't tell which of us Harry was more angry at.

"Hello Rose," he said once he knew I was aware of his presence, the greeting holding no friendliness whatsoever. "James," he said, nodding at the guard.

I actually heard James gulp as Harry acknowledged him, and he seem frightened.

"Is Brian back today?" Harry asked.

James shook his head no. "Still sick," he choked out.

"Well, this is going to be a fun walk back to my cell then, isn't it?" Harry said with sarcasm, jaw still clenched and a mocking smile playing out on his lips. I actually feared for James as I noticed the tension between the two of them, even stronger than before. Had Harry hurt James yesterday? There was no physical evidence on James' body, so probably not. But something definitely happened for their loathing to spiral; I would have to ask Harry about it later.

With both of them standing before me, I felt like a sinful wife. James seemed like my blissful escape and Harry the possessive husband of this scenario. I didn't actually do anything wrong, but for some reason it felt like I had. And I feared that James would feel the wrath of Harry's anger later if I didn't keep an eye on them.

I had to watch them vigilantly if I wanted to make sure James didn't get hurt. He seemed much friendlier than Harry and much easier to trust. He was kinder and had a warmth to him that was so inviting. His smile was endearing and his laugh was twice as much. Spending time with James was always easy and I loved every minute we were together.

But Harry was a different story. He was a tangled mystery that allured you in, making you want more than anything to solve his puzzle . He was a dark angel, it seemed. He was intimidating and smart, but there was something else there, too. There was a great light deep within him that he seemed to keep hidden, but I had caught glimpses of it shine through his dark curtains.

"Well we better go sit down before someone takes our table," I said as I realized none of us had moved, the tension of our silence not letting up. It was a dumb excuse to leave, really, but I was grateful when neither of them questioned it.

They shared one last glare before Harry turned his attention to me. "After you," he said, motioning for me to walk ahead of him. I gave James an apologetic smile and moved across the room to our table, simultaneously taking a seat and letting out a long huff.

Harry followed and took his own seat shortly after. He looked over his shoulder to probably make sure James was out of hearing range and then said, "What the fuck did I tell you, Rose? I said stay away from James and now you're going to a fucking fair with him?"

"Harry, calm down. And lower your voice," I commanded. "And stop cursing so much."

"I can curse whenever the fuck I want, thanks," Harry replied, no doubt just trying to piss me off.

"And I can spend time with James whenever I want, thanks," I retorted in a mocking tone.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but I put my hand up to silence him. "And if you would let me finish," I continued, "You would know that it's impossible for James to be the killer, so there's no reason for me to stay away from him."

Harry's eyebrows were strewn together in either confusion or anger, I couldn't tell which. "Why?" he asked, still tense.

"Because, he wasn't even in the country when those bodies were killed. He was in America for his birthday."