Heroin {harry styles}

17

I haven't moved from the couch all morning.

Harry's been lounging about the house, not doing much. He hasn't said a single word to me and I'm perfectly okay with that.

All I can bring myself to do is sit here and think. I thought about my home, thousands of miles away.

And Sophie. I hope she's alright.

And for the millionth time since I've been here, stuck inside Harry's obscenely large house, I replayed the worst day of my life through my mind. Over and over again.

If only I didn't need that stupid history textbook, he wouldn't have found me that day.

If I would've just waited at Sophie's soccer practice, he wouldn't have found me that day.

If he would've had the right anesthetic he wanted instead of that stupid drug, I wouldn't be so screwed up right now.

My mind snaps out of its depressing thoughts as I see Niall, Liam, and Mia entering in through the front door. Right on que, Harry comes in from the kitchen and hands the guys a few beers and they head upstairs without any greetings, leaving Mia and I alone in the living room.

I completely forgot they were coming over to paint my room today. But I sort of hope it takes a while because I'm not looking forward to moving all of my stuff right back in there, along with the things Niall and I ordered online last week.

"Layla, how are you?" Mia gushes, coming over to give me a quick and sitting down next to me.

"I'm alright," I smile a little at her. "Things have been going...okay I think?"

"I'm so glad to hear that. How's Harry been treating you?"

I shrug, "He's, well, Harry. But I don't want to talk about him right now. How have you been?"

Before she could answer, there was a loud crash coming from upstairs, followed by Liam shouting, "Niall you bloody idiot! The paint's supposed to go on the walls, not my head!"

"Should we check on them?" I asked Mia, slightly worried.

"Not unless you wanna get in the middle of a fight," she giggled.

Moments later, Niall walked through the living room. He had blood trickling out of his nose and his face looked all pouty. He didn't look at Mia or myself at all before going into the kitchen, coming out with some ice, and going right back upstairs.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Mia and I looked at each other and instantly burst out laughing.

"We need to have some fun," Mia says enthusiastically. "Where does Harry keep his alcohol?"

"Don't know," I shrug. "I'm not allowed to have any."

"Liam doesn't like when I drink either but we're all adults here, we can make our own decisions," she judges me shoulder.

I shake my head. "I'm seventeen."

"Stop!" She gasps. "I swear I mean this as a compliment, but I thought you were at least nineteen!"

"Nope," I respond, popping the 'p' sound.

Mia looks at me with sad eyes and her usually happy atmosphere is instantly turned sad.

"Well damn. Harry really kidnapped a kid," she pauses. "Not that it would be any better if you weren't seventeen. Your parents must be going crazy trying to find you."

"Not so much," I smile weakly. "They died last year."

"Oh Layla," she throws her arms around me, squeezing me so tight I can hardly breathe. "I'm so so sorry. You don't deserve to be here. If I could get you out of this, you know I would."

"It's okay," I try to make some light out of the situation. "I mean, at least I'm getting a nice room, right?"

"That better be the nicest bedroom in the entire world," Mia threatens emptily.

"You were right. We need to have some fun," I pull back from the hug to look at her, but I pause. "Wait are kidnapped people supposed to have fun?"

Furrowing her brow, she answers, "I don't think so. But I think kidnapped people are usually supposed to be trapped in a basement or something, not getting a new bedroom painted."

"Touché," I laugh and stand up from the couch. "Wanna make cookies?"

Mia shoots up off the couch and practically runs into the kitchen. "I'm the worst cook, but absolutely!"

I follow her into the kitchen and find my cook book. "I almost started a fire making toast my first day here."

"Okay maybe you're the worst cook the ," she giggles. "Ooh! Let's make those!" She slaps her hand down on a page with a recipe for marshmallow chocolate chip cookies.

I quickly agree and we start searching for the ingredients.

I've never made cookies before, I hope it's not too difficult.

Once we finally gather everything we need on the counter and set the oven, Mia and I look at the recipe to begin mixing the ingredients.

We put the butter, sugar, and vanilla in Harry's mixer and everything seems to be going smoothly so far.

While it's mixing, we both snack on some of the chocolate and marshmallows that are supposed to go in later.

"I think it's ready for the flour and stuff," Mia says, looking down into the mixing bowl.

I turn off the mixer while she picks up the large bowl of flour and baking soda and dumps all of it inside the mixer.

Without thinking, I turn the machine back on to full speed and all of the powder sprays out onto the two of us and all over the kitchen.

Mia looks at me, shocked, for a moment before she completely cracks up and I soon join her.

Soon enough, we end up on the floor unable to control our laughter while once again eating the rest of the chocolate and marshmallows, seeing as our cookies obviously aren't going to be finished.

All too quickly, we're joined in the kitchen by three men.

Mia and I stop laughing instantly, and the only sound in the room is the mixer that I never turned off.

I look up and I'm met with Harry's intense eyes, along with Niall and Liam. Niall looks as if he's trying not to smile, but Liam's got his jaw clenched tight and his eyes locked on Mia. He's got a few traces of light grey running up the side of his face, probably from when Niall got paint on him earlier.

"We're leaving," Liam announces, not moving his eyes away from flour-covered Mia, who looks like a lost puppy right now. But who am I to talk? I probably look the same way.

Liam marches over to Mia, grabs a hold of her hand, and practically drags her out the door, leaving me with Niall and Harry.

With Mia gone, so is the small bit of positivity I had in me today. As I'm left with the two men, I can feel myself slipping into the familiar numbness from this morning, dark thoughts invading my mind once again.

"Layla!" Harry shouts, snapping me back to reality. I notice that Niall's gone, which means it's just the two of us now.

"Sorry what?" I ask Harry, and I'm not even sure it comes out loud enough for him to hear.

"I said, my fucking kitchen better be spotless in the next hour or there will be consequences," he growls and walks out.