taron egerton ~ oneshots

a soulmate au

{the photos literally have nothing to do with the story btw hehe}

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This soulmate au is based off a story prompt I found on pinterest. 

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I pause my Netflix, my hand shaking slightly even though I know I'm probably overreacting. I thought I heard a floorboard creak downstairs. The thought doesn't bring me much comfort. 

I silently slide out of my bed, tiptoeing to the door, and peering through the gap. 

The landing is empty, and there isn't anyone coming up the stairs. That's good, but my heart rate doesn't decrease. I swallow nervously, clenching my fists to stop them from shaking. 

Really, I should just go downstairs and see what made the noise. It was probably just something falling, or maybe just the house settling on its foundation. There are so many things it could be, all of them mundane. So why am I so uncomfortable still?

I walk slowly across the landing, towards the top of the staircase, peering down into the dark kitchen. I can't see anything, but then again, it is pitch black down there. And if there is anyone there, they would have a perfect view of me from the glow of my bedroom light. 

I gulp fearfully, treading quickly down the stairs and practically running to the light switch, smashing it aggressively and blinking in the new light. There's no one down here. I must have imagined it, maybe it was a part of the show I was watching? Yes, that's it. Why didn't I think of that earlier?

Shaking my head, and chuckling nervously, I turn the light off again and run upstairs, like a little child afraid of the dark. As soon as I'm settled into bed again I hear it again. Not a creak this time, but a footstep. The shuffle of a heavy foot. 

My heart claws at my chest. 

I swallow again, breathing heavily through my mouth. 

Someone is inside my house. 

I sit in silence, shaking violently at the sound of approaching footsteps up the stairs. Growing closer and closer. The intruder hums a soft tune that I can't hear properly, and as he climbs, something metal clangs against the iron railing, and I cover my mouth to contain my whimper of fear. I stare at the top of the stairs in fearful anticipation, before realizing that if I can see that, then whoever is coming can see me. I dash to my ensuite, footsteps heavy, and slam the door shut. No point in pretending I'm not home. It's too late for that now. 

I clutch my phone tightly as I attempt to dial 911. A  difficult task considering how violently my hands shake. I hear my bedroom door being opened slowly, the hinges squeaking. 

I thought I couldn't get any more scared. I thought this was it, I mentally prepared for my gruesome death. Imagining that my parents would see my face on the news, people asking for the murdered girl's identity.