Dust Bones [Harry Styles]

053

 n. well, final exams are coming in a month or so for me, and i want to wish myself a massive "you're fucked" and a big "best of luck" for anyone else taking final exams soon.

 goodbye 4.3 GPA. it was nice knowing ya

"Cata," a voice whispers to me in my ears. I frown almost instantly upon being woken up, eyes blinded by the dim lit room and burning with exhaustion. I'm greeted by Harry, who wears his usual black attire. He's alert and aware.

"We're going," he adds quickly, not waiting for me to react fully as he grabs my wrists and sits me up. I widen my tired eyes and try to remain focused on his abrupt behavior. "We don't have much time," he says with a firm tone, sounding almost angry with me.

I inhale sharply and quietly jog towards the dresser. In an instant, I'm wearing a pair of plain denim jeans and a grey t-shirt. I throw on a sweater over it, tugging my feet into a pair of lace-up boots with struggle as for a loss of balance.

My hands rub against my eyes, desperate to remove this slow, tired stance. I leave my hair in it's messy, unruly waves and join him where he stands, arranging things on the bed.

Harry strapped the duffle bag to his back, jaw locked tightly with his vision focused on the silencer he's locking into the barrel of the gun. My initial instinct is to grab one myself, but he's quick, and tosses me a gun with the safety still in session.

"We won't have to shoot unless we're seen. I rather not be seen, so we've got to move as soon as possible," he explains monotonously.

I nod in understanding. "Okay," I whisper. "And cameras? Motion sensors?"

"I disabled them for a few minutes. We have five to leave through the back. Further down the rural areas waits a car I parked there yesterday," he informs me, holding his gun with the barrel downwards. His pale green eyes find mine.

There's a less attempt to cover my paranoia and fear. He knows I'm afraid, and I have no reasons anymore to deny it. I just grasp my gun tightly, knuckles white before he motions with his chin that we better head out.

I take notice of the clock. It was three in the morning. My last glance at the room is brief and uninterested. I'm willing to leave this confinement in hopes of better conditions even under the circumstances of our current situation.

Harry leads the way, keeping his footsteps quiet and his tranquility excessively high for a such a suspenseful plot. Goosebumps encase my skin in their cold, nervous extremities and a shudder proceeds.

My hand begins to numb after two minutes. We've made it down the stairs, our footsteps silent. There are a few men who stand at the computers and watch with disinterest. Many of them are too focused on the reruns of a soccer game on the television.

I follow with my heart in my throat, eyes wide and alert. Adrenaline keeps me on my toes as Harry walks with much prestige and little worry. I look behind us very often, but I was calming once I saw the back exit of the enormous house that has become my prison.

The outside air is fairly calm, yet dry and cool. I lock the door to the back and remember to press on it tightly as for any lasers that were disabled will sensor the door open, and trigger alarms the second the minutes are up.

Harry watches me as I do so, and afterwards, he slightly surprises me when he grips my hand in his. I'm rushed into a full sprint down the hills of the back and up them as well. My thighs begin to ache and my lungs burn from excessive work.

I keep up with pants leaving my parted lips as he leads me through tall, vast trees. I'm thinking my legs are going to give up, but he stops running just in time. We break into a pace that is not too slow yet quicker than a simple walk.

I'm breathless. Our breathing is vastly audible through the silent night and the rustling of the trees and bushes that we brush against. My hand squeezes his in attempt to find reassurance. This was much too easy.

"How far...is the car?" I breathe out, feeling him entwine our fingers tightly.

Not looking back, he murmurs, "Just a minute away from us now. We won't have it too easy as for they check every two hours on you. And on me."

"It's been two hours since the last time they checked on us?" I question with furrowed eyebrows.

"No. They won't check until another hour and a half. However, we won't be out of Italy by then," he firmly says.

I don't question any further. My legs are rewarded with a seat in a car a minute later as he promised. I sigh heavily as he tosses the duffle back to the back seat. The car is a BMW I'm fully aware belongs to my father.

While we strap in, I say, "This one of my dad's car. People can find us with license plates."

"Two steps ahead of you, Dollface." Harry states with a brief glance in my direction. "Removed the license plate and replaced it with a guy's truck."

I nod my head slowly, mentally praying for that poor man who's going to be hunted down because of a rearrangement of licence plates.

Harry starts the car quickly, zooming us past vast trees and through the darkened parts of the rural grounds. The headlights slice through the darkness and I'm allowed a moment to breathe without feeling watched.

"If we have to stop for something like food or a restroom, I need you to put the hood of your sweater over your hair," he orders, which is understandable. "And don't talk unless you really need to. I won't say much either."

"Where are we going once we leave Italy?"

"Barbados," is all he says. "We can't stay here for long as for when they find the old man's truck, they'll find his identity and find out the license plate we have on. I can keep switching them, but that will just be tedious."

I've never been to Barbados, but anything really is better than being confined to one room for hours among days. My social life has only become Harry himself, but I don't even have time to fully acknowledge the disappearance of my social life.

I wish I could stop running back and forth. But the suspense is unexpected.

"What awaits in Barbados," I mutter to myself, though Harry picks up on it like I said it out loud.

Harry gazes over at me, one hand on the steering wheel while the other was entwined with mine. His eyebrows raise and he firmly states, "Your safety."

n. i'm so tired. there will be more going on the next chapter.

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