Neurotic // h.s

6

Ella Perry

I stand on the cold, dirty hardwood floor, the hairs on my neck standing up with the thought of these illicit men knowing my father. 

Louis and Niall had just left moments ago, without another word about my being here, or about Harry. They just left as if nothing happened, and Harry didn't just cause blood to pour from Louis' nose. 

Harry sat down on the leather couch I once laid on, with me still standing up in front of the coffee table, probably with my mouth wide open. 

He sat casually with his legs spread apart, and his left arm propped up on the arm of the couch holding his head up so it won't fall over. His eyes were closed peacefully, his face resting calmly in the palm of his hand, making it hard to decipher if he is asleep or not. 

How do they know my father? Surely it's only because of his job, they probably got into a bit of trouble with him, I'm guessing being the police chief has its downsides. Do they want to hurt me because of something he did? 

I turned to face Harry on the couch, with my hand propped against my hip with questions filling my mind before I spoke, "Harry," 

A moment passed before his eyes open groggily, delaying slightly as his eyelids slightly sticking together, not tilting his head but instead peering at me through his eyelashes. He didn't move any part of his body to respond but instead, a low hum voiced from his lips after I spoke.

"Do you think you could tell me what's going on?" I say half sarcastically with a small scoff, as he acts like nothing is wrong in the situation with not telling me anything. 

His dark eyes bore into me as he remains with the same composure as he did before I spoke not bothering to move, his eyes close slowly as he speaks exhaustion consuming his voice," You saw everything that just happened, I think you can put two and two together."

Still, with a sleepy manner and an uninterested voice, anything that comes from his mouth is chilling.  

What does he mean figure it out, all I saw was him punch Louis and state who my father was, that gives me no clarity. 

Crossing my arms over my chest, I was done with being confused. I leaned my body as I propped my hip out creating a more serious look on my face as his eyes were still closed. 

"How do you know my father?" I skip right to the heavy question, and this time he doesn't even bother opening his eyes at my words, instead, he lets a small sigh escape from his lips. 

Instead of responding immediately, he slowly opens his eyes again and removes his elbow from the couch arm before he rests his hands on his knees and pushes himself off the couch with ease. 

He moves closer to where I stood, stepping beside the glass coffee table, drowsiness still evident. 

" He was a police chief, who didn't know him." He stands over me, making me feel ten times more vulnerable and unconfident, something about his aroma was off, and it told me he was lying but I chose not to push it. "Now you should go to sleep, we've got stuff to do tomorrow." He speaks with heavy eyes as he turns on his heels and towards the hallway. 

"What are you talking about, 'we'. I'm going home tomorrow." I speak in bewilderment, he thinks that he can just keep me here, even if he refuses to tell me the reason why I'm here in the first place? 

He whips his head around immediately, his curls rotating with his turn with a puzzled look on his features," And how are you doing that?" He speaks with a taunting smile, testing my words as he inches closer to me as he was previously.