mirror game

XXIV.

Rose's P.O.V

Harry's satisfied green orbs watched my eating, doing his bidding. I only started to because his words seemed plausible; he'd had the chance to kill me several times before. Though, I was curious about what made him be so kind to me this night. He told me I'll have my dinner, then he's going to get me another room to sleep in. I was confused about his actions, about the possible reasons.

His eyes appeared a few shades darker than usually. I remembered the time just right before he bit my wrist. His eyes turned all black back that day, like something was demonizing him from the inside. That's what my mirror-reflection-Rose-clone-thing suggested as well by saying something about it's not him doing this. I barely remember her actual words though, the situation appearing blurry in my mind.

It frightened me a little when I admitted to myself how good the food tasted. I've never felt hunger in the past couple of weeks or days (I still couldn't trust Harold when he said it's been three weeks since he killed my friends), still it felt great, something filling my stomach. I've had enough to eat when there was still some food left.

"I'm done." I confirmed, lifting my gaze to see Harold smiling at the other end of the room.

His head rested in his folded hands being held up by his elbows that stayed on the table. His brows were slightly furrowed, though he seemed fully satisfied.

"So you liked it, yes?" He asked curiously, not changing his position.

I half-heartedly nodded. "It wasn't too bad. Expected something worse." My voice was quiet, frightened of him losing his temper at my words.

"I'm not going to hurt you tonight, Rosie." He laughed to himself.

"This is calming." I scoffed.

It actually was anything else than this since he said tonight which automatically somehow means he's going to hurt me another time. I didn't like the idea of him injuring me after what he'd told me about himself and the thoughts he had when first encountering me.

"Can you tell me what exactly happened that night?" I asked, reminding on how I felt this big black hole right after Harold killed Ansel.

"You passed out when I touched your back." He laughed. "It's the usual reaction, I guess. You were so afraid."

"Indeed." I whispered, looking at my plate.

"I've never meant to scare you, Rose." Harold quietly spoke. "You didn't play the game, I should have let you go."

This made me lift my eyes to encounter his. A suffering expression laid upon his features, causing an uncomfortable aching in the left part of my chest. This was weird, why did he arouse compassion in my inner in this very moment? When he was so bloody right with what he said?

"Yeah true." I only got out.

"Rose, I'm going to tell you something now, please keep it in mind, okay?" He asked. He was so serious.

I nodded cautiously. What would Harold want to tell me that is supposed to stay in my mind?

"No, I need you to say it." He required.

"Yeah." I whispered.

"Yeah, what?"

God, was he playing a game or something? Why would he need me to say it out loud, anyway?

"Yeah, I'm gonna keep it in mind."

The satisfied look on his face dropped as soon as it appeared. I watched Harold shift his position several times, he coughed, he rubbed the back of his neck, shook his head to fix his hair. He was so nervous. Why was he? Have I done something wrong that worried him?