Heroin {harry styles}

30

I can't sleep.

This feels like the first few nights I was here all over again. No matter how many different positions I try, I can't get comfortable. I'm too hot, or too cold, or my arm is twisted weirdly.

Finally giving up, I get out of bed to get a glass of water. Maybe that'll help.

I should really keep a glass in the bathroom so I can get water there at night instead of going all the way downstairs to the kitchen.

When I pass through the living room, I see that Liam, Louis, and Niall are both sleeping, and there are a few empty beer cans scattered about the coffee table.

I turn off the light on my way to the kitchen, but I leave the beer cans. There's no way I'm going to risk picking them up and waking the three men.

In the kitchen, I turn on a lamp to see rather than the big lights since the switch is on the other side of the kitchen. I just need some water and I'll be out of here.

I grab a class out of the cabinet and open the freezer to fill it with ice.

Closing the freezer door, I jump when a figure is standing right behind it, accidentally scattering a few of my ice cubes all over the floor.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I whisper yell at Harry, who's standing only a few inches away from me, ignoring the ice for now.

"Um, I live here," he responds, full of sass and wearing his signature smirk.

"You scared the life out of me!" I whisper back.

"Obviously not, considering you're alive and talking to me," he chuckles lowly and I glare back in response. "Shouldn't you be asleep? It's four am."

"Couldn't sleep," I answer shortly.

He nods. "Well I'm going to bed, it's been a long night."

"Oh of course. I'm sure tearing a family apart was extremely tiring," I say as he begins to walk away.

Harry stiffens. "Who told you about that?"

"Your friends," I gesture to the living room, hoping they wouldn't get in trouble. Niall's black eye was still very prominent from when Harry beat him up for talking about him earlier. "But it doesn't matter. It won't change the fact that you tore apart an innocent family!"

"An innocent family?" He laughs humorlessly, walking back up to me and standing way too close, as usual. The dim light coming from the lamp I turned on is just barely reflecting off his face, making this whole situation more eerie.

"Maybe the children were innocent," he starts speaking again, slowly, with his mesmerizing accent. "But I didn't hurt the children. And trust me, that man and woman were far from innocent."

"What are you talking about?"

"First of all, that man owed me two million pounds. That's over two and a half million dollars, since you're American," he says matter of factly.

"That's not an excuse," I glare up at him.

"I gave him several warnings. And instead of paying the debt that I know damn well he can afford, the selfish coward sent a man to try and kill me. Of course, my men shot him before he could even get to one of our warehouses."

"Oh so you probably broke up two families today since you had another man killed in addition to your kidnapping?"

This man is utterly unbelievable.

"As a matter of fact, I did. And I enjoyed every second of it," Harry smiles sickly. He's the most despicable person I've ever met in my entire life. "But they were far from innocent. That man was sent to kill me. To murder me in cold blood, probably for some drugs or money in return. I can't help that I defended myself by getting to him first."

I stand in front of him, speechless. How can he think that this is okay? That it's normal?

"It doesn't matter if they're bad. That's never an excuse to kill someone," I try to convince him, but to no avail.

"Oh, I haven't told you about the wife yet. Last weekend she tried sleep with me in a club. Knowing full well her husband owes me money and that I'd be coming for him soon, she was busy coming on to me," he laughs some more, and I can feel his light breath on my cheek because he's so close. I can feel his warm body radiating heat onto mine, because he's just so damn close.

Leaning in even closer, Harry's lips brush my ear when he asks,
"Still think I'm the bad guy here?"

I gulp, probably audibly, as my breath hitches in my throat. Something about Harry's presence is so strong. He makes my heart begin to race, and my palms start sweating.

Taking a second to make sure my voice isn't going to waver, I lean over a bit and whisper right into his ear.

"Yes."

I walk out of the kitchen, my shoulder brushing against Harry's as I pass him.

I quickly try to get up the stairs, stumbling a bit on the last one.

What just happened? In the afternoon, I embarrassingly tried to be close to Harry, and he didn't want any part of it. Now he's back, acting like nothing happened, as per usual, and trying to be close to me.

No matter how many hours I spend locked up in this house thinking, I cannot, for the life of me, figure out the man that is Harry Styles.

When I get back into bed, it feels like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. I quickly get up again and lock the door. There's no way I'm taking a chance on Harry coming in here to follow me or yell at me or do whatever he does.

Who am I kidding though? He definitely has a key.

Or he would just break the door down.

Any hope I had of sleeping tonight is officially gone, as I lay in bed with my eyes wide open.

I try to tidy up a little, moving some clothes around, but everything in this room is already clean, so I just lay there, wide awake.

Until my alarm goes off at the ungodly hour of seven am.

I sit up and wait for a minute. With everything that's happened in the last twenty four hours. Do I really have to get up?

I quickly decide, out of pure fear of Harry's anger, that I do in fact need to get up and make breakfast.