Psycho

Chapter 11

"Good morning." I moved a strand of hair away from his face, green eyes looking at me cluelessly as I rubbed my thumb over his cheek. He's not Edward, stop it.

I blinked at the mental reminder, trying hard to ignore it while I picked up Harry's medication I had thrown earlier. "What happened after I left?" He muttered an almost inaudible 'nudding.' as he popped the sedatives into his mouth. I furrowed my eyebrows at him but let them back up when I remembered that he might be my own medication to my obsessiveness over Edward.

"If you're alright, I'm gonna get going soon, you have my number if you need me." He rolled his eyes, typing 'why?' into his phone. "I have a date with Joshua." Harry muttered 'queer' quietly, getting a well earned slap on the hand.

I looked out the window, a light silhouette seemed to fall over everything in the room but Harry. I lied down on the bed, joining Harry in the darkness as the rest of the shadows in the room danced in the rising sun's reflection. "So you and Josh, hm?"

"Yeah, I went to the university in the evening Sunday and I met up with him. I didn't know you sang." I decided to acknowledge his unknown talent. Harry silently gave me his phone, tapping a voice recording icon. There was an immeasurable amount of recordings, each named after alternative song's names. I tapped one of them. A few piano notes later, a voice that so anomalous pouring from the phone's speaker.

Harry's voice sounded like someone who had just recovered from a cold, drank a martini, then was given laryngeal adjustment from the Creator himself, allowing him to hit the highest and lowest notes humanely possible. "Once you get better, you're going to sing for me." His face turned sour.

"What if I don't get better?" His voice was so hoarse and dejected that it sounded like a strong possibility. "I already let someone slip through my hands once, it's not happening again."

"Edward?" My body straightened its posture at the sound of his voice being spoken. "Yeah, how'd you know." Harry shrugged, pawing at his swollen eyes. "Heard you talking earlier."

"Don't bring him up again."

"I'll try."

"Good enough."

I left an hour later after Harry fell asleep. I left two pills, a bottle of water, and Benadryl on his side table. I came home, and hour to spare until my 'date.' I opened the door, both my parents standing at the kitchen island. My mom looked flustered, my dad on the other hand, furious.

"Let's get one thing straight young lady, I don't mind you seeing that boy, but you are not to leave in the middle of the night to go see him-I don't want to hear any excuses, if you think I don't want what you two were up to-"

"I think that's exaggerating a bit, honey." My mom countered. My dad sighed 'girls' before storming up the stairs. She walked over to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. "I don't know what you were up to, but I don't think you were doing. .what your father thinks you were up to. Although, if your going to escape in the middle of the night again, I don't think I'll be able to back you up again." I stayed quiet while she shook her head and went back upstairs.

.:*:.

Josh looked great, clad in his letterman's jacket and jeans. Myself on the other hand-I hope Josh has a thing for yoga pants and oversized sweaters. We had made plans to talk over coffee at the universities cafe. He greeted me, hugged, then sat back down. He had got us both mint frappes, which I despised but choked down for his sake.

"I'd love to continue our conversation on neuroscience, but I came here for a reason." He rolled his eyes and grinned, taking a sip of his drink.

"So. . .Harry. Where do I start? Well he was admitted into the hospital last year as well, then he came here. He lived in England before moving here in California. One of the other guys in the house said that he lived here for a little while here before moving back to England. I don't know if that's true though, dude was shitfaced when he told me." Josh laughed then looked away, then at the table.