Murder Mystery - H.S

13

Juliet.

I jerked awake, groaning slightly. A wooden knocking sound seemed to be coming from the front of the room.

I buried myself beneath the pillow, sucking in a sharp breath. I was completely exhausted. I need sleep.

Another hard knock causes me to jump up in bed; the bathroom lighting illuminates my room. "Christ Jesus."

I exhaled deeply. The room was large and unusual, but not unexpected. Harry's clothes smelled like vanilla and were too big for me.

As I closed my eyes, I felt suffocated by his smell, melting into the aroma that consumed me whenever he was around—when he was too close for my liking. His shirt and pants wrapped loosely around my body.

But I did fall asleep quickly.

I opened the door to find Harry on the other side. He was wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his waist.

Harry smirked and pulled on his lower lip, his eyes flowing down my body, and he looked far too amused. He looks up at me, his eyes twinkling with an emotion I've never been able to read.

Harry's hair was wild, but flowed perfectly on his head; he had a mustache and a beard growing in. I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms.

"What?" I scowled.

"Good morning, princess—you look like shit"

"Gee, thank you." I blink rapidly. "You're already leaving?"

"In a bit," Harry murmured, "Breakfast is almost ready. Come down."

"Breakfast makes me nauseous," I reply truthfully, stepping back, and tilting my head to look at him. "I do want coffee."

"Breakfast is like the most important meal of the day—you should know that."

"I do, but as a child, I never got used to eating breakfast because my morning cook was terrible at her job."

Harry averts his stare. "I'm not a shitty cook, though."

"What did you make?" I lifted an eyebrow.

"It's a surprise, and you need to eat a little. Don't want you to fuckin' faint when you're taking care of the girls.".

I hum

"I'll see you shortly." Before Harry has a chance to respond, I lock the door and head for the bathroom, where I brush my teeth, wash my face and gather my hair so it doesn't get in my face. Lack of sleep had left me with bags under my eyes, and I was jittery and confused, longing for a smoke.

My mind was full of thoughts about what happened last night. I kept thinking about Abigail and how calm she seemed despite being stabbed. For her, it might not have been the first.

The way she bled—the way the others appeared so carefree but so horrible.

How everyone was acting normally. Except for Abigail's bleeding, they were happy with themselves. I wonder what they were doing. What brought them to Harry's House in that way, and why was Zayn with them?

I made my way downstairs, and the aroma of food filled my nose. It smelled good, and the hunger in my stomach grew, even though I'm not a breakfast person.

"Juliet!" Both Marceline and Azriela yell, leaping out of their seats, their tiny feet clattering on the floor.

I grinned, grabbing them in my arms as they burst into laughter and screaming. "Good morning, Juliet," Azriela whispered.