-Miranda's POV-
"Miranda?" Harry asked knocking on the door to our bedroom. I was sketching in my notebook, the one Harry had gotten me the first couple days that we had stayed at his house. My pencil eraser shavings were all over the page attempting to erase my mistakes. I was drawing who I thought was Harry at first, but this person was tweaked a bit different.
The eyes were the same, so were the cheek bones, but something around the nose and mouth was shaped a bit different, this person had no dimples like Harry either, but looks a lot like him. His eyes were a dark emerald green that I had drawn in with some worn out color pencils, that really do need to be sharpen.
I didn't move or even knowledge that he was in the room but kept on drawing. I was leaned up against the frame of the bed as my knees were brought up to my chest that held the stance of my notebook. "Miranda, don't be mad at me..." His voice sounded deep with sorrow. He didn't understand that I wasn't mad or upset with him. Just worried. I know how he gets when he bottles up everything inside. He tends to keep all that anger and take it out on the people around him. I'm just not willing to be his punching bag.
He came across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He sighed and plopped the rest of his body down so he was sprawled out. His hands stretched out to try and grab me but I pulled away. I wasn't in the mood to talk. I didn't want to fight with him right now, I just don't have the time or energy too. The last time we fought it only ended up in me confused back at the door steps of my father's house. Only wanting to come back here. I just don't want to repeat that.
I want to enjoy my time here with Harry while I can but I just can't to seem to do that when he's hiding something. "Don't be this way, please." He begged, his words taunting me. One minute he won't even talk to me and the next asking for forgiveness and begging me to talk to him. You can't win them all.
"You think I want to be?" I murmured, slow and softly under my breath.
"There's my baby girl." He smiled acting surprised that I had answered back to him. He crawled all the way up to frame of the bed, sitting beside me. I put my sketchpad down, lying it face down so he didn't know what I was drawing.
He rested his head in the crook of my neck as he took my free hand and intertwined our fingers. You wouldn't think a tough guy like Harry with all his scary tattoos and piercings would be into all these small things of what could eventually turn into something. I sure as hell wasn't sure if he wanted a relationship or not but lately he's been acting like he does. You can never actually tell what he wants, cause he always wants the opposite of what you think he wants.
"Why are you so cooped up in here anyway?" He questioned. I shrugged my shoulders and sunk deeper into the cushion of the bed. The curls of his hair tickled the skin of my face every time he breathed, moved or shifted position.
I needed Perrie to talk to besides Harry. A girl anyway, yet the last couple of days she was at work and then left to her parents house. she would return the day after tomorrow, and I'd be gone that following day. "Needed space."
"Did I do something wrong?" He asked. I didn't answer, he should no what he has done wrong. He won't tell me what's wrong. That's what is wrong. My life is so fucked up. The things I have to do, to get a damn word out of his mouth.
"Tell me Harry, what's going on?"
This time the rolls had reversed and he wasn't answering me. I didn't like being on this end of the conversation, but someone always has to be. I understand his frustration with me, but he hasn't felt my wrath.
"Did I do something wrong?" Emphasizing I. He nodded his head no and kept quiet.
"No of course not, it's me."
"Your dreams?"
He nodded yes to that question. At least now he was opening up a bit. I pulled up the covers at the end of the unmade bed. I ran the blanket up and over my toes and up to my chest, Harry pulled it up to him with the tips of his fingers. The blanket that I believe is actually a quilt was an ugly shade of green. The type of green that reminds me of the color of my grandparents in Florida bathroom. it was always a unappealing color that's why I'd chose to use the second bathroom on the second floor. That and cause it flushed better.
"Wanna share?" I didn't want to push him, but I did want answers.
He shook his head like I expected he would. "What about..." I thought for a second thinking of a way for him to open up. A bargain more like it. "-if I tell you something."
"Like what?" he lifted his head up from off of my shoulder and looked directly into my eyes. Feeling like there was no empty space in between us.
I had to think of something that might even up. So I said anything- "I've been getting anonymous phone calls." and maybe that was the wrong thing to say at the wrong time, but it was a start.
He laughed but I wasn't lying. "No joke." He stopped laughing and gave me some sort of a concerned look.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean someone has been calling me from a blocked number."
I grabbed my phone from off my end table by the side of my bed and went through my calling log showing him the number of time this blocked number has called me. "What have they been saying?" His then laugh has now turned into worry.
"Nothing, just really heavy breathing and then they hang up."
"You sure?"
"Positive."
He took my phone and swiped it right out of my hands. Looking up and down. There was no number but just said block so there wasn't much to go off or to search. "I know a guy who might be able to help." He said taking my phone and walking out the door before I could even say another word to stop him.
I didn't want him worrying about me more than he has too. Yet somehow I always manage to get my big mouth going and always get him wild up on something new to work on. Just adding more to his already full plate.
I quickly hopped out of the bed and followed him out into the living room where Harry was pacing back and fourth already yelling at Zayn before I could get into the living room. "How in the fuck did he get her number!?" I was worried now. Who was he? And how did he get my number? What in the fuck was going on?
"Harry?"" I asked softly not to spook him. He jerked his head over to me and his eyes looked almost blood shot with worriment. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked like he was about to pull a majority of his hair out of his scalp.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing, just go back into the bedroom." He demanded, he walked across the living room and started to shove me to the hall and back into the bedroom. He was about to shut the door when he said; "Stay in here."
"No."
He looked at me confused. "Harry you can't keep everything from me!" I yelled, he stopped in his tracks and was surprised with my outburst. Maybe I finally have found my inner voice that's been hidden.
"Please just stay in here for now until I figure something out."
"Why can't you tell me?"
"Just some things aren't met to be spoken about."
"But this is Harry, now tell me." He shook his head no and slammed the door shut. He locked the door from the outside, locking me inside. I sighed throwing my hands up in the air. I was more than pissed that he wouldn't tell me what was going on with him, but for him to keep things from me about me!
I was more than furious with him. I looked at the clock and it was almost 11:00 p.m as of now. I was tired. I hopped back into the bed and lifted the covers back over my body. I rested my head on the firm yet comfortable pillow. I grabbed Harry's Ipod that he keeps under his pillow and put the ear-buds in my ear. I clicked on the playlist that I found named 'Miranda' and it was all the songs on his Ipod and CD collections that I've listened to and mentioned to him, some not even.
I closed my eyes and drifted off to the sound of the music.
-Harry's POV-
Could more shit go down in my life? Now I had more shit to worry about than I did before. This was even bigger than me, it was worst. It was Miranda I had to worry more about now. It all had to do with this calling signal.
The calling signal of death.
It was his sign to let you know he was coming, you don't know when or where, but you know he's coming. There's not much you can do about it. It happens to the one's you love when you least expect it. Yet I haven't made a deal with the devil. I've only heard about it, the cause for the most unknown reasons of death.
Why?
I walked into the hallway after yelling at Zayn even though he has really nothing to do with this. I needed sleep, I've had very little in the last few days and I'm probably gonna only get less even now. I unlocked the door from the outside and grasped on the door handle hoping Miranda would be asleep so I wouldn't have to explain anything tonight.
When I opened the door she was laying with her back towards the door as I heard her snores fill the room. I walked to my side of the bed and pushed the covers over so I could hop in. I pulled down my pants so I was only in my pair of boxers after I had stripped down from my shirt as well. I put the covers over the both of us and pulled Miranda only even closer to me as I noticed she had my ear buds in, listening to the secret playlist I was making, or not so secret anymore.
She looked so sweet and innocent. She was lost in this world I had brought her in but not much I can do to take her out like I took her in. I want to tell her I do. Just there's just to much to explain and I won't let her worry now.
I kissed the top of her forehead and wrapped my arms around her sleeping body. "Night baby." I whispered as I drifted off to sleep as well.
A|N: Thank you guys for all the hearts and comments I have been receiving it really does mean a lot! I love all the feedback I've been receiving on the answers for the question of the chapters.
Question of the chapter; Who do you think Miranda was drawing? And who is making the death calls?
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