Heroin {harry styles}

5

a/n
hi, not to spoil the chapter at all but I'm terrible at describing stuff and I feel like it's boring if I spend a whole chapter just describing the details of rooms so here are some visuals.

I follow Harry inside of his house and the inside seems even bigger than the outside if that's even possible. I marvel at the modern decor around me. For such a cold, dark man, he's got a really good sense of style.

"I guess I should give you a tour," he rolls his eyes as if my presence is inconveniencing him. If he doesn't want me here, he shouldn't have kidnapped me.

"Can I just go to sleep?" I ask. I'm exhausted and in so much pain and the last thing I want to do is walk around and listen to this horrible man.

"Don't fucking argue with me," he snaps. "How are you supposed to do my housework if you don't know your way around?"

"Housework?" I exclaimed. "You kidnapped me and injected me with drugs— heroin, of all things— just to do your housework?"

"Layla, if you raise your voice one more time," he seethes but doesn't finished the threat and leads me further into the massive house. "Don't worry though, you'll be more than a maid. I need a pretty girl on my arm in public, maybe that'll finally get some of those filthy whores to stop hitting on me so shamelessly all the time."

I stop in my tracks as he keeps walking down a hallway. "You're disgusting!"

"Don't fucking speak to me that way!" He screams, slamming his fist into the wall next to him and creating a giant hole. I flinch and nod, willing myself not to cry. I'm stuck here now, I have to try to stay strong.

Reluctantly, I find the strength in myself to toughen up and start following him again. This time I decide not to say anything.

Harry introduces me to an array of beautiful rooms, but I can't even take the time to admire them. I thought I was exhausted before, but that's nothing compared to now. I feel like I'm going to pass out at any given second.

So far I've seen the kitchen, living room, dining room, a few bathrooms, and some more but I already forget what those rooms are for. After what seems like hours, we finally arrive back in the foyer and he begins leading me upstairs.

If it's even possible, at this point Harry seems more closed off than before after the little incident earlier. I almost find myself wondering what he's like when he's not screaming, kidnapping teenagers, and threatening to kill people.

Almost.

He shows me to a guest bedroom and I'm so bored. I wish I wasn't here. This would be way more fun if I was high again, like I was in the car. Whenever I was just floating around.

"Why are you smiling?" Harry's deep voice brings me back to reality, his eyebrows furrowed.

"No reason." I quickly cover up my expression with a straight face and try to pay attention to his voice droning on about whatever room this is.

My legs hurt.

My head hurts.

"Layla!" He shouts, and my eyes widen slightly, once again breaking out of my miserable thoughts.

"What? I'm listening," I say with a little more attitude than intended. I really hope he doesn't blow up like he did earlier in the foyer.

Instead, an arrogant smirk settles on his face. "Then what did I just say?"

My mind draws a blank. My eyes flicker to the room around me, trying to come up with something.

"I'm waiting," he raises an eyebrow at me impatiently.

"You said, uh, that this is a bedroom?" I guess.

"Nope. I said I killed someone in here last week that was trying to steal from me. Right where you're standing, actually."

His smirk grows into a devious smile as I immediately flee the room, forgetting how tired I am for a brief moment.

Backed up against the wall in the hallway, I see him exit the room a second later. "Two more things and you can go to bed."

I sigh in relief, however the uneasy feeling knowing someone recently died in a room I was just standing in still lingers.

Harry leads me all the way to the end of the hallway upstairs until we come to two doors that look just a bit fancier than the rest. Once we stop in front of them, his whole demeanor changes and once again he's a frozen solid block of ice. His body tenses and his jaw clenched as he starts speaking.

"This is my bedroom and my office," he points to the corresponding doors when mentioning them. "You are not to enter either one. You are not to attempt to enter either one, because they will be locked at all times. You are not to loiter near either of these rooms. In fact, you are not to even think about being within five fucking feet of either one of these doors. Do I make myself fucking clear?"

His green eyes darken as they blaze into my boring brown ones with the utmost seriousness. My mouth goes dry in fright and I nod, fully intending to follow these rules.

"Good," he noticeably relaxes and moves on without another word. We walk the opposite direction until we come to yet another door.

Harry swings it open, only to reveal yet another bedroom. Frankly, the most boring room of them all. Almost everything was an off-white, beige color and there wasn't a ton of furniture or decorations. "This is your room," he motions me inside.

Of course I get the ugly room.

"I don't know what you like, so it's neutral for now. One of my men can help you decorate soon if you want. Niall's got a bit of an eye for girly things, so you should ask him."

Oh.

"Um thanks," I say to him and I actually mean it. I guess there's one teeny, tiny little perk about being here. This bedroom is way bigger than my one at home anyways. I glance around, already starting to think about how I could spice this place up a little bit.

"Well it's not like you're ever leaving," he smirked. "Now get some rest, you have to make breakfast at eight a.m. tomorrow."

With that horrifying reminder he shut the door, leaving me alone in my new bedroom. Or luxury prison. I haven't quite decided on what to call it yet.