favorite crime [h.s]

sixty seven

thanks for 12k reads you guuuuyss!!

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Harry and I always switch places where we'll stay for the night. I hardly ever stay at my own apartment anymore, and when I do, he's usually there with me.

I like the feeling of his warmth, it's giving me a sense of calm more than anything else ever could. His vanilla scent is engraved in my pillow until I wash it, but then he has to sleep at mine the next night. His arms keep me safe in his hold, my face buried in his chest, enjoying the feeling.

But not like this.

"Stop!" I hear his voice above me, slowly waking me up.

Stirring awake, I feel some sort of pressure on my arms, pinning them down beside me. This is already enough to shift me into a state of discomfort and panic. My eyes open but I see nothing. Complete darkness. I always leave the light on, why is it off?

"Harry?" I murmur, attempting to move my arms out of his grip.

"Stop it! Leave me alone!" his voice raises. What does he mean? What is he doing?

"Harry, are you awake?" I ask, desperately searching for his face in the dark.

He's panting heavily, not loosening the grip on my arms but I can sense that his hands are shaking in fear. I couldn't turn on the light for him if I wanted to, he's holding me too tightly.

"It's me. Alison," I tell him, "hey, you're okay, baby."

He's silent for another moment, only breathing heavily. "Why'd you turn off the light?"

"I didn't do it," I deny. "If you let me, I can use the flashlight on my phone."

He removes his hands from my arms, backing away from me. The state he's in worries me, I still don't know what's going on with him.

I grab my phone from the bedside table and turn on the flashlight. Keeping the light down in order not to blind him, I search for him on the bed. He's sitting on his knees, sweating from head to toe and still panting.

I attempt to turn on the lamp, but it doesn't work. I'm unsure whether to feel relieved that I didn't accidentally turn it off. Climbing off the bed, I flick the light switch next to the door, but it's not working either.

"I think there was a power breakdown."

Harry seems to be in a world of his own, still stressed out from the nightmare he had. I'm convinced he had a nightmare because he hasn't behaved like that ever before, and the lights were out which played a major role too.

"Hey," I whisper and rush to his side. "I've got you." I cup his face, rubbing his cheekbones with my thumbs. He continues to shudder as if he was cold, but it's because he's scared.

He doesn't look at me, he keeps his head low, he doesn't answer me in any way. I try to keep my own worries at a minimum, because me being nervous only makes him nervous.

"What are you so afraid of?" I murmur. My fingers spread through his thick curls, messing with the soft mess on his head.

He shakes his head, rejecting my question.

"Look, there's no one else in this room." I move the flashlight through the dark room, assuring him that we are in fact alone. He's not looking. "It's just us."

I slip my hand into his and hold it tightly. He returns the soft gesture and squeezes my hand too, keeping them intertwined on his lap.

"I'm right here," I assure. "I'm here." I'm unsure whether he is listening to me. "Harry?"