minty × harry

one - institutional

(a/n guys this is all in harry's pov js ok onwards then also the song of the chapter because im lame like that is robbers by the 1975 don't ask me why but I was constantly listening to the 1975 while writing this heyyyy)

h.s

For an entire month now, my life has been a routine. Every day Insley would wake me up, in a complete fuss about me driving him to the mental hospital. Then we'd have a bicker, and I'd drive him. He'd stay there for entire hour and come back walking on air. He wouldn't tell me anything. At first I didn't think much of it, Insley was a generally secretive person. He'd rather get skinned alive than tell me about what's going on.

It was one particular day where I got tired of the same thing over and over again.

I open my eyes, in front of me were pale blue eyes, glaring down at me.

At first I was startled, the person in front of me had light brown hair and a piercing look. His skin was pale, and a long scar ran from his chin down his neck. I knew who it was; it was Insley. He was glaring down at me, I didn't know why. For some reason my hearing wasn't quite tuned and I couldn't hear a thing he was saying. His words were like gibberish.

"Hello?" the sound suddenly returned.

I replied with a low groan. My body was awake but my mind wasn't.

"Harry?" he says again.

"What?" my voice sounds groggy and fast asleep, almost what I was.

"Get up." He asks politely. I shoot him a glare.

"Please?" he adds later, smiling weakly in my direction. I decide to get up and stretch out my limbs, Insley's pacing around the room for a reason unknown.

"I need you to drive me back to the institution." He says softly. I'm immediately wide-awake.

"Again? seriously Insley, what now?" i asked, exasperated.

"Because I need to fucking see someone." He replies, equally exasperated with me.

"Okay, all right." I give in, raising my hands in defeat.

"Don't use vulgar language." I warn after standing up.

"Fuck you." Insley smiles sarcastically, my expression goes serious.

"You know how you get." I warn again, he ignores me.

"Appreciate the concern, Harry. But I don't need a smart-ass telling me how to manage my own disorder." He says smugly.

I shrug.

"Just trying to help."

"No, you're just pitying me. I don't need your pity, or help. Thank you very fucking much." He walks out of the room and it leaves me wondering what caused his little outbreak. I suppose I wasn't used to his behavior as he spent about four months in that blinking institution.

I ready myself for the day approaching. Facing the thing I fear most, insanity.

"What the hell are you so afraid of anyway?" a voice startles me.

"Insanity." I reply simply, not looking up to who's facing me. I assumed it was Insley.

"Come on, now that's a stupid excuse for a fear." He replies.

"Excuse you." I put on a button down shirt, examining myself in the mirror. My brown curls are all over my face, I grin; satisfied. Unruly, un-neat curls mean good night's rest, no disturbances. My mood is instantly lifted.