'Back To Life' - Harry Styles fanfic

Chapter 7

"Are you sure this has...never happened before?"

"Positive..."

I fiddled with the sleeves of his black jumper, that hung off of my hands. My stomach was knotting up but I managed to get the words out, that had been lingering on my lips.

"But...you've...been with...other girls..."

His green eyes burned into my own as he angled his body to face me. I was sat on his bed, cross-legged, whilst he was perched on the edge somewhere in the middle, his boot-clad feet resting on the laminate flooring below.

"...so...what...makes me...different?"

I felt my cheeks heat up and bit my lip. He kept his gaze on me for a while. I was trying to read him but it was impossible. Without saying a word, he took his eyes away from mine and turned his head, staring straight ahead of him.

We sat in silence for a while and then my insides danced about as his voice broke it.

"You're...still here..."

He turned his head and locked his eyes with mine once more. It was as if there was an invisible force-field between us and everything just felt so intense.

"I don't....understand..."

He sighed and chuckled slightly which confused me a little, but he was soon speaking again and as always, it was impossible not to listen. His eyes were no longer on me, and the side of his face I could see, was painted with a somewhat shamed yet frustrated expression.

"Usually...after...I...have...my way...with a girl...I'll come back momentarily...but I never...stay...I just come back long enough to know what's happened. I never remember her name or care to, because to be quite honest, it never gets to the point where it matters. It's just the same routine. The girls, they never mean anything. They get what they came for and they go...or I do...depending on where we end up...but you don't need to know that. Whenever he has fed off of someone....it leaves a mark....it's something my darker self does...something to feel triumphant about. When I'm him, I can't control him. Sometimes I know what's going on, despite not being able to do anything about it. Mostly, it's a case that I can't remember anything. I just come back and feel like I'm stuck in some kind of limbo, not knowing how I got there in the first place...."

As he trailed off, I shifted my weight forward slowly and rested a hand on his shoulder. I felt the need to comfort him. He angled his head slightly and I could see his eyes taking in my gesture, but then he turned away again and carried on speaking. I left my hand there and he seemed to relax slightly from his tensed up state.

"...that was the case with you. I couldn't remember how we had met, or when we did. I couldn't remember your name. I didn't understand why there was so much...blood..."

My hand flinched slightly as I remembered the terrifying memory. His own hand flew up and rested on top of it and I felt my heart racing in my chest.

"...sorry...I didn't mean to...."

His eyes never met mine.

"It's...okay...carry on..."

"...there was something about your eyes...something told me we had met before. I don't know how or why but something keeps playing in my mind and I don't know if it's an actual memory or just my imagination...although I don't know why I'd imagine being in a kitchen with you...when there could be more...appropriate settings..."

I swallowed the lump that had been forming in my throat and my eyes widened slightly.

"...It's...not...you were in my kitchen...you came to my house...the night after we had met...."