invasato [h.s]

66

you're going to be confused by the way Harry is describing things. reminder that he knows more than you and Elaina know...it'll piece together eventually. happy reading.

//

Harry Styles

"Baby, please—"

"How could you do this to me!" Elaina lifts her crying face from her palms, the dreaded piece of paper at her feet. Her blue eyes are ecstatic in colour from the hot tears that coat her cheeks, tears that were my doing.

I can feel my heart breaking and crumbling into pieces.

"Let me explain everything, please." I continue to beg, down on my knees in front of her as I try to grab her hands.

But she pulls away. She doesn't want to be near me. She doesn't want to touch me.

She can barely even look at me.

"I believed in you." she cries. "But this whole time you had my death date set and ready..."

"N-no." my head shakes. "No. You don't understand."

"It's too late anyway." her voice shakes as she looks out above my head, seeing something.

My head turns, and I see the white ski masks and red smiles.

My eyes flutter open, tightness around my wrists behind me as they remain taped together around the back of a kitchen chair. My head stays dipped down, my mind and body too tired to lift it.

I've woken up three times. I've dreamt of Elaina three times, each dream being the same scenario that wakes me up with my heart aching.

When I woke up for the first time, I found myself in my childhood home, bound to a chair that I'd sit in as a kid to eat meals. I felt overwhelmed and then I realized the situation I was in, and I became fully panicked. I was struggling too much and was demanding to see Elaina. They gave me an injection to knock me back out.

It wasn't until the second time I woke up that I realized Elaina wasn't here at all. She'd be in front of me by now if she was. I don't know where she is, or if they actually even have her.

The men from the casino have been watching me on rotation. I've pieced together that this has nothing to do with Pauli, but instead these guys are working on something on the outside. I know exactly who I've been brought to, and all I can do is sit here and wait until he decides it's time to talk to me.

Despite being in a life threatening situation, being beaten senseless, and overall feeling agony all over my body...I've been anything but compliant and cooperative.

I've been either talking back or not talking at all, even taking it as far as to sit in this chair and laugh at them when they tell me they'll kill me if I don't start behaving.

Not for nothing though, because I've earned quite the beating for it. My face is probably littered with cuts and bruises from brass knuckle punches.

I hear someone enter the kitchen, my head lifting with any energy I had left to see if it was actually someone interesting.

It's not. I roll my eyes as I see one of the men that have been in and out of here multiple times again.

"You were out for a while this time." he says, cigar between his fingers. He walks over to me and holds it out, like he's offering me a puff.

I turn my head, looking to the side.

The kitchen is exactly how we left it, and I'm trying not look over at the cabinets by the stove and think about how the last time I was here, I was kneeling over my mother's dead body with Niall.