Heroin {harry styles}

38

"Morning sunshine," the familiar Irish accent chirps as I open my eyes. "How was your sleep?"

"Good," I answer, a little confused at why I fell asleep on Harry's couch. "Why are you here? And how did I get here?"

"God dammit, Layla," I hear a shout as the front door swings open.

"Something tells me you're about to find out," Niall shifts his gaze away from me, nodding to an infuriated Harry storming into the living room. "That's also my cue to leave."

As Niall gets up from the chair next to me and leaves the house, Harry replaces him in front of me.

I have no clue what he's mad about, but I know I wish Niall was back here instead of him right now.

"What the fuck did I tell you Layla?"

"What are you talking about?" I stare at Harry, focusing in on his angry vein starting to pop out.

"The drink, the fucking drink!"

"What drink?" I ask and look at Harry like he's insane.

"I specifically told you. Do not take any drinks unless I give it to you. And do not fucking let that drink out of your sight!" He shouts. "We walked past so many fucking people last night, any one of them could've slipped that pill in the cup without you paying attention. For all we know, there was more than one!"

"Why are you yelling at me? I don't even know what drink you're talking about!" I sit up on the couch and grab onto a pillow, holding it in my lap.

"This is the problem! You don't fucking know what drink! Do you know why you don't know what drink I'm talking about Layla?"

I shake my head, watching Harry's face twist into an unreadable expression.

"Because you weren't careful and you didn't do what I said, so you got fucking roofied last night at the party we went to!"

"Sorry," I say quietly, giving up on arguing with him. I have no idea what he's talking about, so I'd rather just let him get the anger out of his system at this point.

Harry looks me in the eyes and stands up, beginning to pace around the living room. "You're sorry? You're fucking sorry? Layla you could have died!"

"So what?" I shrug calmly, feeling my emotions slip away. "I'm stuck here anyways, what's the difference? When someone gets put in the type of dangerous situations you put me in, death is a risk. You don't get to put me at risk for dying and get mad when I almost die."

"You don't get to tell me what to do! I tell you and I tell you how to be smart about these situations and you've ignored me every god damned time."

That does it. "Harry I'm not like you! I'm not a gang member! I'm not a criminal! I'm a freaking high school student from a small town in the United States! I don't know what to do in situations like that! Nobody drugs people at the parties I've been to back home!"

Harry rubs his face in his hands, only getting angrier. "That's why I try to fucking tell you! I warn you! And you don't fucking listen! Get it through your thick skull that you have got to listen to me Layla!"

"I wish I was still fucking roofied so I could keep forgetting all of this," I huff, standing up to get away from Harry.

"Oh do you?" Harry asks, his green eyes turning dark as he grabs a hold of my wrist. "You wish you were still so fucking drugged up that you couldn't move? Or speak? By all means then, Layla. Please, let me take you back there. This time I'll even put the drugs in your cup for you to make it easier for you."

Harry begins to pull me towards the front door.

"What are you doing?" I ask nervously.

"I told you. We're going back to the party. You complain I don't let you do anything, so I'm giving you what you want. Let's go," he threatens.

"Stop it," I say quietly.

"Oh, what was that?" Harry turns around with a mocking look on his face.

"I said stop it! I don't want to go back there!" I shout at him, breaking free of his hold and running upstairs.

I hear Harry's footsteps as I'm about to reach my bedroom door. "Layla Summers don't you dare run away from me like that!" He shouts.

I freeze, but the footsteps stop at the bottom of the stairs. He gave up. I don't know if I'd say I won that, but Harry gave up. I go inside my room and slam the door behind me just to make a statement.

"Don't slam my doors!" I hear Harry yell from downstairs, but he still doesn't follow me.

Maybe it's a small victory.

"Layla open this door."

My eyes flutter open, and the next thing I know I hear more of the knocking that woke me up.

"Layla, I'm serious! Open the door right now!" Harry's voice rings from the other side. He definitely sounds annoyed, but not necessarily angry.

I groan, waiting another minute to see if he'll go away. But he doesn't. Of course he doesn't. He just keeps knocking on the door and calling for me to open it.

I make him wait just a little bit longer before I drag myself out of the comfy bed and open the door just a crack. Of course, Harry slides his hand through the small opening and pushes the door all the way open despite me trying to hold it shut.

"What?" I ask defensively as he just stands there.

"What were you doing in there?" He eyes me suspiciously, looking over my head into the room.

"I fell asleep," I respond simply.

"Oh," He says.

"What did you come up here for?" I ask, getting annoyed after another minute of his silence.

He looks at me and shifts uncomfortably before finally saying something.

"I wasn't going to take you back there."

"Okay," I say, a little confused by his confession.

"I'm serious," he pushes. "I wouldn't have actually taken you back to the party."

"What were you going to do then?"

"I don't know," Harry says honestly.

"Okay," I accept his answer and go to sit back down on my bed. I leave the door open.

Harry stands there a little longer, before coming inside and sitting down next to me, his calm energy filling the room.

I can't tell if I'm happy about him being here or not.