RED ROOM [H.S]

28.

It wasn't as if I didn't know that Harry had killed someone, but seeing him admit it by downing his drink made a shiver run down my spine. I hoped even in my intoxicated state, I didn't give away how much that unsettled me. I had a million questions spin off from that, but I didn't voice any of them. I didn't want to show him how afraid I was, I didn't want him to have power over me anymore. I didn't want him knowing the uncertainty of his behaviour fuelled so much fear in my body that it felt as if my bones rattled against my skin at the thought of Harry killing someone.

I swallowed my nerves, and kept my eyes on him. I waited for him to say his part. He was waiting to see a crack in my cold stare. I didn't dare to break my eye contact, determined to win some power in this situation.

Seeming satisfied by my reaction, he reached for another drink. It was scary how the world was moving around us, people laughing and flirting, dancing wildly to the music and yet we sat away from it all, engrossed in a conversation about death. I wonder what these people would do if they knew a murderer sat in such close proximity to them. Hell, I was unsure how I sat so close.

"Never have I Ever..." Harry paused for dramatic effect. "Had sex with the blood of another person on me."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You already know the answer to that," I hissed, my eyes darting around the room suddenly to see if anyone had heard.

He hadn't bothered lowering his voice, he said it in a tone that made him sound like he didn't care, but there was an unmistakable glint in his eyes. "Do I?" He asked, smirking. "I don't think I do. I think you should play the game how it's suppose to be played. Drink if you've done it, don't drink if you haven't. What's it's going to be?"

He was testing me. My cheeks reddened, and my brain screamed at me not to drink. I didn't want to admit that I had done such a thing, even if Harry already knew the answer to it himself. Though it wasn't as nearly as bad as him admitting he had killed someone, it was still in the equally deranged category. Drinking to it meant I was almost as bad as him. I eyed the clear liquid in front of me.

To be the King, you had to act like the King, I told myself. And I wanted to be the King, I wanted to play the game that Harry was so sure he ruled.

I lifted the glass to my lips, tipping it back just as he did before slamming it back down onto the table. I held it in my mouth for a few seconds longer than I should of though. The sudden need to gag was heavy in my throat, but I forced it down, determined that I wouldn't lose the game. Though I did that, I couldn't help the pinch of my lips and the wince that followed.

He chuckled at me, playing with the glass in front of him. "Such a weakling. Not giving up already, are you?"

"Shut up," I mumbled, slightly embarrassed I wasn't able to mimic his moves perfectly. "Never Have I Ever...tortured someone."

Harry didn't hesitant to drink. "Never Have I Ever...been attracted to a murderer."

I didn't hesitant to drink.

And that's how the game progressed. There wasn't anything cute or innocent about the questions. The questions there were asked were questions we both already knew the answers to, though we were challenging each other to answer until someone buckled and refused too. Until the truth of the questions were too much for us to admit.

"Never Have I Ever felt no guilt after killing someone."

Drink.

"Never Have I Ever hated the fact I had sex with someone who tried to kill me."

Drink.

"Never Have I Ever killed someone and it wasn't for work."

Drink.