"Finally you're awake!" Harry gasps dramatically as my eye peel open and focus on my surroundings. The dark curly hair and mischievous green eyes flourish in the dim lighting of the dining room.
I gasp along with him and look to see my body being suffocated by ropes. My feet bound individually with rope while my hands are sewn together with a separate rope. My body is restrained to the dining room chair while I watch Harry lean back in his chair across the table, a knife twirling around in his hand.
My thoughts were confirmed when I see those emerald green eyes smugly take in my frightened appearance. This nightmare was real.
"If you don't tell me what the hell is going on I'm going to-"
"Going to what kitten? I'm sorry to break it to you but your last escape attempt didn't go so well for you," Harry taunts me pushing my failed attempt back into my face. "Although, I would have been disappointed if you didn't try,"
"I know you aren't Harry, so who are you?" I ask him as he spins the knife by the handle. I watch the light catch the sharp blade and feel a cold sweat run down my back.
"I told you before, I am your perfect loving husband," Harry chuckles darkly rolling his eyes and readjusting his feet that are propped up on our dining room table.
"I'm not buying it, Harry is lactose intolerant and this morning you had a hefty cup of milk and whiskey," I shake my head tilting my head to the side. Despite being terrified I decided to switch gears, even though I was shaking on the inside I thought I would display the opposite.
"You are right Harry isn't one for the good things in life like milk or fucking the shit out of you, but I am," My hands ball into fists as the struggle to break free while tied behind my back. The rope strands cut into my skin and irritate the areas it rubs against. "H enjoys every second of it,"
"Who is H?" I keep an even breathing pattern while I continue to slide and wiggle my hands in an attempt to break free.
"You are lookin' at him kitten, in the flesh," H proudly gestures to himself to which I notice his style change. H carried a more casual style, he preferred flannels, black skinny jeans, and t-shirts... much like the style Harry was wearing the night I found him in Philadelphia.
Appearance wise the only difference between Harry and H was that Harry had golden blonde hair and H took more to the brunette coloring. H was also more casual style-wise, he had a cool streetwear look that was greatly contrasted to Harry. Harry wore jeans and up to date fashion, he liked flamboyant tops that most people wouldn't even dream of wearing. However, he pulled it off and it was something unique to him.
"So then where is Harry?" I question feeling my skin become more agitated under the restraints of the rope that bound me.
"Away," was H's simple answer. I wasn't sure what that meant entirely and quite frankly was confused by the whole concept. What did H mean Harry was 'away'?
"What do you mean away? Let me talk to him," I say a little more demanding then I had meant. I knew H was going to get after me for commanding him to do anything, in my short exposure to him I felt like I knew his reactions to certain things. He had a short temper and didn't hesitate to show me that.
"Unfortunately for you, things don't work that way, but I could take a message for him," H plays with me getting up from the chair he had been sat in. The blade in his hand gleams under the dim lighting of the dining room, the sight of it causing my stomach it churn inside.
"Then how does it work?" I ask him in a smaller voice, my act faulters when my eyes track the shiny blade in Harry's hand. He comes over to me and I try my best to not be afraid or intimidated by him but something about him made that impossible. My hands were shaking behind me which I was grateful that H couldn't see.
