✓ Meanwhile [h.styles]

.nine.

(This switches views a few times. It's still third person, but it's from different sides. I wish I'd started writing this story differently but it's too late to change it now so sorry if this gets annoying to you. Also, the gif above is how I picture Uriah (:)

"You know what I want and you know when I want it."

"Why are you acting like we'll work on your terms?"

"Because I have someone you want and if I don't get what I want, you won't be seeing her again."

"You're talking about my sister."

"Yes."

"And you think I want her."

"I know you do."

"She was dead to me the night I saw you two at her apartment building. Do what you want, I don't give a fuck anymore."

Harry looks down at Astraya's sleeping body. Her eyebrows are tied together like she's stressed and he's trying to understand why. He's seated behind the piano with the phone pressed to his ear, hair tied behind his head and nose growing cold.

There are goosebumps on her exposed arms and it's then that he notices that she's wearing one of his shirts. It's not that long but it's long enough and he feels stupid for not asking her about it when she was awake. How could she go through his stuff without asking?

He sighs and tries to rack his head for something to say to the man on the other end of the phone. "So if I killed her tonight." He presses down on one of the last keys of the piano and then moves over to press a few more, playing one of the softest tunes he knows. Without much thought, he looks back at the sleeping woman on his chair. Her lips are glistening slightly with some drool that's sitting between her lips.

"You're trying to threaten me and it's not working." Uriah's tone wavers near the end and Harry isn't sure if it's because he's trying to put up a front that he doesn't care about his sister or he's just tired.

Astraya shifts from where she is and he tilts his head to the side with narrowed eyes. The hand under the piano stalls over the pistol pinned against the wood. Harry doesn't kill without reason and he's not a coward that kills without having their victim look them in the eyes. And there's no reason to kill her. No point in waking her up just to put he gun to her temple. "We'll see about that." The call is ended and he puts the phone on the bench before standing up.

She still has that look on her face that screams nightmares. Her fingers are tightened into fists under her chin and her eyes are squeezed shut, breathing hard and loud. It's annoying and sad at the same time.

Walking to her, an idea sparks up in his head. He read somewhere that sleeping next to someone you love could help you sleep peacefully. So can listening to soft music but Harry doesn't want to play on the piano for that long. He carries her sleeping body out into the hallway and makes his way to Liam's room, not knocking before walking right in and lowering her to the empty space next to his body. He's shirtless and sweating and it disgusts Harry but he stays quiet, wrapping Astraya in a blanket so she doesn't have to touch Liam directly if she happens to roll over against him.

There's a subtle ache as he reaches over to tap Liam. His hand pauses in the air when he looks down at the distress in Astraya's face. She looks more upset than she did in his music room.

"Shit." He untangles her from the covers and lifts her up again, making his way outside of the room. He accidentally bumps her head against the wall on his way out. "Shit, sorry," he whispers, bringing a hand up to hold her head.

He's frozen in the middle of the hallway with his arms tensing under her weight. She's small but definitely not light. She shifts and he looks down, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to make up his mind. There are three options. Liam's bedroom, his empty bedroom, and the chair in his music room.