SAFE (Harry Styles Fan-Fic)

Chapter 9: Knives

I was suddenly awoken by the sounds of metal in the wind. It's hard to explain that sound. I mean, it's like a sword, yeah a sword. The sound a sword makes in the movies when it's being flung by the ninja or something. It's like, sliiinnngggggaaa. I don't know, I'm just trying to keep my mind busy. I don't want to die thinking about things I shouldn't be thinking.

I stood up from my bed and looked at my phone. It's 4:45am. Good god. I stood up and walked to the bathroom, washed my hands and fixed my hair a little, even though it was probably going to get messed up when I go back to sleep anyway. I walked back to my bed, the rest of the guys sleeping crazily on their beds. I huffed a laugh, until I began thinking back to earlier last night when Nikki ordered the beds... Didn't she only get 5? 

I counted, and there were five- out here. I rose an eyebrow, slowly walking to the Asian looking wooden wall... I was going to knock on the door, but I realized that it was 4am... So i bent the doorknob, and to my surprise, it was unlocked. I slowly opened it, the sound of the knives scaring me again, but I could tell it was in the opposite direction.

I walked in, slowly, every step hesitant, waiting to be punched in the face or something. I caught a glimpse of Nikki, and I became pretty upset... I mean, she was lying on the floor, a thick comforter folded perfectly against rug of the hotel room. Her head was lifted up a foot high or so by a suitcase... She seemed so innocent  sitting there like that, of course, until she flung another throwing knife at the wall. 

I huffed at the sudden action, and I tried to pull back. Suddenly, a knife landed a foot away from me, and my heart stopped for a second. I turned to the knife, a distorted reflection of my horror-struck expression. I turned again, to Nikki. Her face was stressed, still tired. 

"Up pretty early, aren't ya'?" she murmured with a raised eyebrow. I gulped and smiled, I don't think she's going to kill me. Well, not today anyway.

"Yeah, your knife throwing caught my attention," I whispered back, playing with my hair. Her expression became a little surprised, and she stood up quickly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's a habit," she replied softly as she walked to the wall and began removing the knives from it. 

"It's fine," I said as I got a glimpse of her bum as she bent down. I quickly looked away, I definitely don't want to die today. I turned to find the knife that she had thrown in my direction to get my attention, and decided to help her remove it, just to be helpful for once... I glanced at her as I wrapped my hand around the black silky knife, and her expression became frantic.

"No, don't touch-" she didn't finish, before my hand reflexively jerked away from the knife, sending pain into my palm seconds later.

"Ow, " I tried to man it up. She rushed to my side as I looked at the injury. My hand was sliced open a little, all across the edge of my thumb, to the middle of  my ring finger, the formation of blood bubbling on the surface now.

"Shit, Harry." she said frantically, as she grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside her room again. She sat me on the couch that lay there in the corner, and took a stressful sigh, before walking back to her suitcase.

"It's fine, it's just a flesh wound," I replied in a macho tone, before I could say any other reassuring manly comments, my hand started to burn. She huffed a laugh sarcastically, before coming back to my side, gloves on and everything. She held this metallic bottle and these little sealed bags.

"What is all of this?" I wanted to laugh, she was over-exaggerating.. I mean, I'm not that wimpy.

"Hold still," she said seriously as she grabbed the bottle and opened the thin tip. She grabbed some special gauze from one of the bags and wiped my cut.