Obsessed // h.styles

6

HARRY'S P.O.V.

I'm sitting here and watching her. She is so beautiful, so fragile, she's such an angel. 

She starts waking up and I tighten my grip around her and close my eyes, pretending I'm asleep. I hear her gasp so I'm guessing she is awake and frightened about how close her face is to mine. I almost can't stop a smile spreading across my face at the sounds that escape her, the desperate pants of fear, if only they meant something else. She tries to get my arm off of her but I don't let that happen. She eventually lets out a huff of annoyance and give up. I open my eyes and lean my forehead on hers and her eyes shoot back open.

"You were awake this whole time?" She breaths and I can feel her pulse quicken as I put my hand upon her neck. I breath out a chuckle and nod still smiling like a mad man. She is frozen again, the fear shutting her down. Anger pulses through out my body and before I even realise it my hand closes a little tighter around her fragile neck. The creamy white of her skin distracting me from realising my actions. 

"Please- stop" She chokes back and I let go like I've just been burned. Ah! I don't want to hurt her but she makes this so fucking difficult. If she would just submit to me. Every time she shuts me down I am absolutley blinded by a rage that I almost can't see past.

I breathe, I think of her waist, and her beaiutiful legs and how one day she will open them up for me willingly. 

I must play the long game, and she must olbige. She has simply no other choice. Or I will make her.

OLIVIA'S P.O.V.

He releases his hand from my throat and I take a deep but shaky breath. He is thinking and I'm scared of his next movements but without a second glance he pushes himself up and off of me and sulks out of the room. The door is shut and I hear a click signalling that I have been locked in. 

I know that should firghten me but I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally alone, I can sort out my thoughts and figure out my next move. I must think logically. And I can't let the events of this morning cloud my judgment. I push the disgust to the back of my mind. There is no room for it right now.

My eyes take the time alone to evaluate the room, I choose to not move from my position on the bed for the time being, just in case Harry comes back quicker than I hope he will. The bed is centered on the right as you walk into the room. Straight ahead from the door is a window, which I can see from where I sit is locked, and sitting on the second story, isn't much of an ecape plan. The three german shepards sit in the yard below as well. That is ruled out instantly. 

There is two doors in front of the bed, I decide to get up and see where they lead. My heartrate immediatly picks up at that decision. My feet feel like jelly as I place them on the soft carpet, my hands still tied together with rope. I am careful not to move my shoulder too much, as the pain still rips through as the slightest wrong move. 

I try the first door on the left. My shoulder burns as I lean down my connected hands to push the handle down. Trying to be as quiet as I possibly can so I don't draw Harrys attention to me. It swings forward with a slight creak. I wince, hopefully the sound doesn't travel in this house. 

It's a closet, a large one. Full of nothing but empty shelves and coathangers. I move to the next room. I repeat the process, swearing under my breath at the pain in my shoulder. A bathroom. It's huge and white, a reaccuring theme in this room. A beautiful stand alone bath in the far right corner and to the left is a big shower with a rainfall shower head. The bathroom is really nice, with toiletries in the shower, tissues and cotton pads in glass jars by the vanity.

I sigh. At least my prison is aesthetically pleasing.

edited 8-11-2022