Requiem (Psycho Harry) *COMPLETED*

Part 5

There was a knock at the door.

My eyes widened at myself in the mirror.

I had one earring in and Gale was meant to be getting here in twenty minutes still.

Was he here already?

I muttered profanities to myself as I quickly made my way over to the front door.

I had a look through the peep hole to reveal it was indeed, him.

My hand fitted on the door handle as I pulled it open.

"Hey Gale." I smiled, stepping back to let him in.

"Hey." He nervously stepped in, pulling out some yellow lilies from behind his back.

"Aw you didn't have to." I blushed as he handed them to me.

"It's my pleasure." Damn. They smelled good.

"Sorry I'm here so early," I walked into the kitchen to put them in a vase.

"Honestly it's fine, I was ready anyway."

Ha, of course you were Hazel.

"Oh right, cool." I looked over as he tried his best not to look around my apartment.

"I'll just get my shoes and then we'll go." I made my way into my bedroom, picking out some small black heels to go with my jeans and crop top.

Bang.

Shit what was that?

Slowly, I peeked my head around my door to see Gale had shut the front door.

Um, okay.

I placed my feet into the shoes before walking over.

"You ready?" I asked him, grabbing my denim jacket.

"Yeah." He noticed my eyes flicker over to the door in confusion.

"Oh, I didn't want the cold getting in. It seemed nice and snug in here."

Aw. How sweet.

"So how come you chose to work at Eastwood?" I asked him as we sat at the bar.

"Well it was good money and close to home so I went for it. What about you?" He took a sip of his beer.

"Partly that, and partly I find their minds...interesting." His pink lips pulled away from the bottle.

"The psychopaths?" I nodded.

"I'm guessing that Harry is pretty interesting." A smug look grew on his face as he mentioned him.

"Yeah..." I remembered what Trish said earlier about their little snaps at each other. I decided against bringing it up. "He's rather...unique. I mean, each one of the inmates are unique but he's something else. Why does he have those silk strips in his room, do you know?" God, I felt his words and views starting to rub off on me.

And it had only been a day.

Imagine what I could be like in a month?

I wonder if those women started off like me...

"He's not unique he's a psycho. Psycho's like him deserve to be locked away."

The right thing to do was agree.

But part of me felt like disagreeing. Was I going mad?

"Yeah I guess." I took a sip of my red wine.

"Anyway, I think Miss Harrison mentioned it was something to do with his last asylum or something. He had them during the end of his stay there, so I don't know. But for sure he's a weirdo."

Each to their own.

"He's sexually troubled aswell. He was telling me earlier about you. And...what he was saying was...well let's just say he wants to make you his 21st if you get what I mean." He shook his head in disgust.

My mind filled with dirty thoughts of his long slender fingers. The thought of his face between my legs, moaning and grinning up at me as his fingers pounded away. His tongue flicking back and forth against me, each groan sending vibrations through me. With his wet curls stuck to his forehead from the sweat and the greens in his eyes darker. I was heavily aching.

"You like that?" Harry's voice asked.

What?

I looked back to Gale.

Oh he said it!

My wine glass was pressed to my lips.

"Oh, yeah, yeah it's good wine." I crossed my legs to try and dim the throbbing but it only made it worse.

Hazel stop.

He's a psycho.

No he's unique.

He. Is. A. Psycho.

I bit the inside of my cheek in anger at myself.

"So anyway, enough about work. What are you doing outside of it?" He smiled, shuffling slightly closer.

"Nothing much really, the asylum takes up most my time." I nervously looked down.

"C'mon you must do something? Like hobbies, what are your hobbies?" His smile was so enduring.

"Well I like to go for long walks, um I like to read a lot, and I like to eat ice cream?" I laughed at my pathetic answer.

"Oh god, I'm actually such a depressing human being. But I watch The Walking Dead? So that makes me a little more interesting." I stared down at the wine reminiscence of blood in my glass.

"Unfortunately I do not watch The Walking Dead. Nor do I watch TV." My mouth hung open.

"What?" I asked shocked.

"Hang on. I did watch series 1 of Broadchurch. And series 2." He took another swig of his drink.

"Oh is that the one with the murder followed by the court case? I've heard of that, is it good?" He nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah it's really interesting to see if and how the guy gets away with murder and how he did it undetected." A shy smile set on his face.

"I'm more into zombies and seeing how many different ways Rick can pronounce the word Carl." He frowned in confusion.

"Sorry, inside joke." I chuckled nervously.

"Anyway what's your hobbies?" I asked.

His tongue traced his lips as he thought.

"Well I used to do archery when I lived in Cheshire, um I also like long walks and enjoy festivals."

He would make one hot male version of Katniss Everdeen.

"Coachella?" I asked in my best whiney bitchy American girl accent.

"More like Glastonbury." He chuckled, shaking his head.

His hair remained stiff even when his head moved.

Unlike those chestnut curls which would bounce.

Everything somehow came back to Harry.

But why?

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