/present; harry's pov/
"Want some water, Harry?" Ms.Woldren asks through my cracked open door.
"No." I say and look back down at my hands, twiddling my thumbs.
"Any food?" She continues to agitate me.
"No, I'm not hungry." I keep my eyes down.
"Ok, get some sleep honey." She smiles and slowly shuts the door.
I lean my head on the wall I'm up against.
The conversations from yesterday running through my mind.
No, fuck her! She was drunk, she hit my car, she owes me!
Maybe she doesn't owe me money, but I still feel like that witch owes me something.
Maybe sex.
Fuck, if that happened.
I can just imagine her prissy little self trotting through my door, to my bed, slowly draping her clothes off, dancing around in her underwear.
Antagonizing me, plain and simple.
Crawling on my bed, arousing me, climbing on top of me, licking her lips, looking straight at my buckle.
As she unbuckles it, a groan escaping from my slight open mouth, and then I realize it's a dream;
a fantasy really.
She owes me though. I don't know what she'll do, how, or even when, but she owes me.
/ariana's pov/
/RING RING RING/
My phone goes off in my ear.
"Hello?" I answer, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"Ari! Get ready, I'll be over in 10 minutes hurry!" Steph yells through the speaker.
"Ok ok." I grumble and hang up.
What could be so important at 9:00?
No sales go on in the beginning of November.
I quickly get dressed, using up the 10 minutes she gave me and do my makeup.
I manage to get ready in 8 minutes, a new record, and grab my phone, putting it in my purse.
As I walk into the living room, all I can think about is Harry and our conversation yesterday.
"You owe me!" I replay his cocky words in my head.
I don't owe him anything. I payed off all the damage and even contained my cool with him and he says I owe him. Please.
A loud knock breaks my thoughts as I open the door, Steph running in.
"What's up? Why did I get ready so early?" I laugh.
"Look at this." She fumbles around to get her phone out of her pocket to show me the recent news.
"Look here." She points to an article that reads:
Foster House Catastrophe: A Foster House known as "Mallord Foster Home for Children" has chaos. Former foster child , Harry (Styles), left his room and is nowhere to be found. Ms.Woldren, the watch foster for ages 17-20, saw Harry in his room precisely at 9:47 pm. Since then, she has not seen him anywhere. She doesn't recall him getting far, his car in the process of being fixed from a former accident, if you see a young man with long brown curly hair, green eyes, tattoos and piercing, many of them, contact this number: 555-784-1472. Thank you.
My heart stops. Escaped? I hope he isn't tracking me down to kill me or something.
Maybe he meant by owe him, my life. I don't know but I hope he isn't looking for me.
"You ok?" She asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.
"I'm, I'm, f-fine." I put my hair behind my ear and sit down on the couch.
"You seem worried. Are you worried about him?"
"Yea, I mean I don't like him, but I'm still worried. What if he comes for me?" I look up at her.
"He won't. Well, I don't know, but he won't hurt you." She half smiles.
"Want to go out and look for him?"
"Sure." I give in and get up, walking out the door with her.
...
"Where are we?" I ask, looking out the car window at the unfamiliar buildings.
The sidewalk is stained with a mysterious brown color, chipped and crumbling, buildings with wooden boards in the windows, shitty bars at almost every end of the street, homeless men sitting in a pile of their own puke. Putrid I must say.
"Some crappy, run down town south from the foster home." She takes a left.
As I watch out the window, I see a young guy in a white tanktop, black skinny jeans and a grey beanie.
"Is that him? In the white! I can't tell, he's turned around." I point at him.
"I think!" She says and drives up to him.
"No don't go to h-"
The window rolls down.
"Harry?" Steph yells out the window.
He turns around, as well as the group of gangbangers he's with.
I try my hardest to hide my face but have no luck.
"Ariana?" He bends down, leaning his arms on the door where the window is rolled down.
"Yea?" I squeak.
"Why are you here?" His voice low.
"Steph showed me an article that you went missing and she wanted to try and find you. I thought it would count when you said 'I owed you'." I quietly answered.
"That's not what I meant by owed. I left by decision." He takes a drink from the bottle of liquor he's holding.
"Why?"
"It doesn't fucking matter." He fidgets with his beanie.
"I didn't know you lived in a foster home." I said as quietly as possible.
"Well I do." He looks off.
"Sorry."
"Why are you saying sorry? Don't fucking say sorry!" His voice raises.
"Harry, calm down." Steph reassures.
"I don't even fucking know you!"
"You somewhat met me at the restaurant." She keeps her cool.
"Well don't tell me what to do." His voice regulates as he takes a swig of the liquor.
"Do you want to get something to eat? It's the least I could do, I'm trying to be nice." I say.
"Finally some decency out of you. Yea lets go." He waves off to his group and gets in the car behind me.
Let's see where this leads.
...
