Autumn POV.
The cafeteria is one of the most entertaining areas of this institution. The food looks and tastes disgusting but it's often made up for with the dining room dramatics. Lunch was close to the most exciting part of my day. Everyone seemed to be in their prime state of mind and I rarely ate without a show. I sat by myself, mainly because I preferred my own company over the other options open to me.
The walls were littered with stern looking security, few nurses accompanying them. The surrounding area had been imprinted and memorized in my mind, just as every other aspect of this asylum. I remember the first time I ever entered this room, seeing so many unknown, uncanny faces. I felt misplaced, and having only been sixteen, I was.
I had been sent to Wellington mental asylum when I was fourteen, when their children's ward was the best around. The scariest day of my life was when I was dragged in through the immense front doors and taken to a room that was overcrowded with other sickly children.
The building had been split into two sections, one part for adults and the other for children. Although I had began on the children's side, the walls of this building were never strong enough to keep out the sounds from the adult ward. I had spent many nights as a child huddled in the corner of my dark room, shivering from the nightmare sounds that leaked through the walls. When I was transferred to the adult side, I was unstable; a small shadow who lurked in fear on her own.
It took me a while before I could finally dwell in the fact that fear gets you no where. It adds to the pressure and uneasiness emitted from this asylum.
I didn't realize how deep in my mind I had gotten until the large doors of the lunch room were abruptly opened. I snapped my head up to see the tall, familiar stranger stood smugly with two guards by his sides. Harry looks upon the room, scanning the plates of food and patients that scattered the area.
His emerald eyes run past mine and there is a momentary pause in his dark demeanour. The guards rid his arms of their hold as they move to allow him to walk freely. His strides are evidently hesitant, though some how hold some form of power; confidence.
I watch intently as he brings himself towards me. I remain still as his lingering body closes the gap between us.
"Hello" Harry formally greets me, his long legs leaning against the table I occupy. He looks along the otherwise empty table before pulling up a chair to sit across from me.
"Hi" I speak with hesitance. Though this stranger may be intriguing, I have no idea about his character, how threatening he could be. Harry's intentions have not yet been noted and I still feel too uneasy around him to relax. A small smirk plays across his mouth, the sight reflecting my subtle attraction towards him.
He is hansom, yes, but something in my subconscious warns me every time he's around. I catch his eyes lingering upon me, the small white dress forced on every female patient here seeming tighter than before.
His eyes are the nagging type that demand attention, they seem to follow and catch every aspect of what's in front of them. I find myself in an unintentional staring contest with him.
I take this uninterrupted opportunity to study the simple features of his face. His eyebrows are soft and relaxed as he mimics my action. A dimple imprints his cheek as he curls his lips ever so slightly. There is a kindness in every aspect of him that pulls my thoughts towards curiosity. I take in his eyes once more, catching a dullness that can only be described as sorrow, or pain.
He seems so well put, like he has figured out every mystery to this not so simple game of life. The smile he portrays hides the tedious shimmer his eyes hold. This feature alone holds so much meaning, as if me staring into those eyes is like reading his own personal diary.
