1986 [harry styles au]

XII. THUNDER

CHAPTER XII. THUNDER
My scream rattled the four walls of the kitchen, the vibration through my chest became a pain-staking surge of panic that soon flooded my veins. I didn't comprehend what I was doing, still shaking, as I leant down and hesitatingly picked up the knife, as though I thought it was an object of make-believe; just a figment of my imagination. My hand held it up towards my face, but the clearer view of what I could only assume was blood caused even more of a shattering stir within my being.

Suddenly, the sound of breathlessness boomed from behind me, along with swift footsteps. It wasn't long before I felt a powerful grip latch around my wrist; the wrist of the hand that was clutching the weapon. My head turns in a snap to perceive a confused Harry, his eyes wide with complete shock. He then looks towards the knife and his jaw falls open. His grip on my wrist only tightens.

Nothing happens for a few seconds, I stare at Harry with utter fright whilst trying to urgently decipher an escape plan. He had transformed to a predator within minutes, and even his clutch couldn't prevent my whole being from quivering like a leaf. Only the harsh clatter of the stained knife against the solid tiles of the kitchen floor interrupted the intense moment, I hadn't even noticed my hand loosening around the handle.

Bewilderment takes over Harry's features as he hesitantly peers away from my face and towards the floor, where the knife had made its new home. All colour floods away from his face, he now looked like a pale ghost; I couldn't identify if he appeared guilty or disorientated.

When my shaking becomes too much and I'm feeling truly overwhelmed, I decide to finally speak. It had snapped into my brain that if he was to hurt me, he was going to do it anyway and that I should at least try to get answers before it happens. 'It was you?' His grip tightens further than I thought it could, my arm feels as though it is wrapped in heavy chain.

'Are you seriously going to believe that?' His eyes flash up to mine with a completely disheartened shine and I'm more puzzled than ever.

'You're a fucking psycho!' I begin to scream again, trying to pull my arm away from his but to no avail. The tears fall all at once, like a waterfall from great distance, all leading to my chin.

'Andy! Andy, Stop!' He tries to pull me closer but I keep my distance. 'If it was me, do you think I'd be so invested in the investigation? Do you seriously think I'd put myself in so much risk of being caught?'

This stops me from screaming but my guard is still up. 'That's why you're a psycho! Why would you have this here, in your own home, if you weren't the killer?'

'Somebody has planted it there, Andy! You've got to believe me!' He pleads, his forest eyes brimming with tears; his irises brighter than ever. 'I've never seen that knife in my life, and you have to understand that.'

'Why would I ever trust you? I want to go home!' I yell, still sobbing, but I am surprised when Harry falls to his knees in defeat. A clap of thunder from outside booms at the exact second his knees hit the shiny tiles. It startles us both. His hand is still gripped to my wrist like a padlock, but now he is vibrating with sobs.

'Andy, please.' He peers up to me with soaked cheeks and my mouth falls open. The thunder claps again but is now followed by the individual tapping of rain against the windows of the kitchen. It speeds up gradually, and then all at once. 'I want to phone the police about it, I want to let go of you and phone them. But if I do, I'm scared that you won't believe me and you'll phone them yourself. I can't be a suspect, Andy, it will ruin everything. I can't be a suspect of a crime I didn't commit. You've got to understand. Please try to understand.'

I burst into tears all over again, and so does he. It was finally hitting me that I had to trust him. The signs were all there that he was the murderer, that he had committed these awful acts, but his act was convincing. But was it even an act? Murderers are renowned for acting, aren't they? He was there on halloween night, he knew where to look for murder stories in Maine and it was always weighing on his mind. But, this was Harry. He was only ever threatening when I first met him, he was only ever slightly intimidating through banter and it was never this sinister. Could Harry truly kill somebody?