Silent Screams » Harry Styles

Chapter 8

“Let’s sneak out.” Harry says and I shake my head.

“No, that’s too dangerous. Guards are everywhere.”

“We’ll get past them. Come on,” he holds my hand and I comply. 

We go out through the back door, and have our backs against the walls. Harry peers out from the corner and beckons me to move. We slither through the halls and past the guards. At last we reach a long narrow hallway that looks like it hasn’t been walked in for years. It’s the complete opposite of the rest of the place, with dust clouded in the corners. The lighting is dim here, and the ceiling lights flicker on and off. 

I turn to Harry and raise my eyebrow.

“You’re not going to kill me are you?” I ask and he makes a face at me.

“Ha-ha. Very funny, Annaliese.” he says with sarcasm. 

He walks down the hallway and I follow him. He goes up a staircase and my legs start to burn. I let out a breath and curse at myself for not being in better shape. When we reach the top, opens a door that blended in with the walls and I see that we’re finally outside. The sun is bright and I shield my eyes from the light. I blink my eyes a few times, adjusting my eyes to the sunshine I haven’t seen in three days. 

“Let me take you somewhere.” Harry says and takes my hand again. 

“Aren’t you like a criminal or something? What if someone calls the police?” I ask nervously hoping he won’t get angry

“We’ll be fine if we go unnoticed. And you do realize that I’m not the only person the police are after too, right? They’re looking for you too.” he says and I remember that my dad came home last night. 

I have no response, and I keep my mouth shut. I stare at Harry as he pulls me through the crowded sidewalk where people are going to work. It feels off being with so many people again. I got accustomed to being isolated from everyone else, and I think I liked it better than this. I see girls looking at Harry and whispering something in their friend’s ear while giggling. For some reason, I felt protective over Harry- as if he were mine. I have to remind myself of all the horrible things he’s done, and all the innocent people he’s killed. Maybe if I keep repeating to myself all the bad things about him, it will make all the good things fade away. 

After a few more minutes of staring and being left to nothing but my thoughts, I have failed miserably. Instead of thinking of Harry as the bad guy, I thought of him as the guy that comforted me. Why do I always have to see the good in people? 

The more I look at Harry, the less of a criminal he seems. I mean, yes, he’s intimidating, but he has this softness about him that criminals don’t have. He cried, which obviously means he’s not a heartless killer. But yet again, I think of people how I want to think of them. Harry is Harry. And Harry is a murderer. Case. Freaking. Closed. 

“Here we are,” he says and I look at the breath-taking scenery in front of me. 

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe and he agrees. 

He sits down on the vivid green grass that tickles my calves. I sit down right beside him so that our legs touch slightly. As I lay back, I’m surprised as to how soft the grass is. The tree above us covers the sun, and the sky is almost cloudless. I close my eyes and breathe in the fresh scent of the daisies surrounding us. I don’t know how long my eyes were closed, but when I open them, Harry is smiling as he looks at me. 

“What are you smiling at?” I ask

“Nothing,” he says and looks up, still smiling. 

“I love it here, it’s so peaceful.” I say and listen to the serene sound of the birds singing. 

“This has always been my favorite place; ever since I was little.” he says. 

Sometimes I forget that Harry is a person too. I think of him as a figure and a creature with no memories. Sometimes I forget that he had a childhood too. He has a favorite food, favorite color, and a favorite memory. It seems as if everybody forgets about all those little things once you label a person. I look at him, and this is the most quiet I’ve ever seen him. I wonder what he’s thinking, and if he wants to share his thoughts with me. I want to get to know him. Just because someone has done bad things, doesn’t make them any less of a person. 

“It’s calming isn’t it?” he looks at me.

“Yeah, it is.” I say and we both stay quiet for a while. 

I move closer to him, so that my cheek his pressed against his chest. I take in his musky masculine scent, and I shut my eyes. I have always been a curious person; constantly asking questions when I had the chance. People often found me annoying, and I stopped asking other people questions, and started asking myself questions. My intelligence comes from me, and only me. Now seems like the time to learn more from others than I can learn from myself. Harry doesn’t seem like a social guy, but yet again, I don’t really know him do I? 

“What’s your favorite color?” I ask him.

“Gold,” he answers.

“Why gold?”

“It’s the color of your eyes when the sun shines into them.” he says and I blush. 

That was totally not the answer I was expecting. I was expecting and answer along the lines of: “Black, like my soul.” But being Harry, he found a way to compliment me. And being Harry, he knows exactly what to say, all the time. 

“That was smooth.” I comment and he smirks.

“I know.” he says and drapes his arm over me.

“What’s your favorite color?” he asks me.

“Pink.” I say and he rolls his eyes.

“You're such a girl.” he says laughing a little. 

But little did he know that I wasn’t talking about the hot pink that all girls obsess over. I was talking about the light pink that is the color of his lips. And how those rosy lips would feel against mine.

it's been five days since I've updated. feels like a long time. but anyways, harry is so smooth like