Twisted (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 15

As I walked through the pitch black hallways, I trailed my arms against the wall. Each light switch I found, I turned it on, encasing me in light once more. I walked down the halls until I reached the stairs, and I carefully walked down them. The house seemed eerie-too quiet for comfort.

And upstairs, in his bedroom, Harry was fast asleep. I could not find myself falling to sleep. I lay there, wide awake, staring up at the ceiling. I contemplated over many things. I wondered how different my life would be if I had stayed in America. But I kept remembering when I first came to London, and how I fell in love with it almost instantly.

Earlier in the day we had unloaded all the groceries. So now his fridge was full of food, as well as his pantry. I wandered into the kitchen, aimlessly looking over everything we had bought.

It was true what I said earlier. This place didn't grow on me, at all. I still felt out of place, seeing the bare, plain walls. It seemed so lifeless.

As I walked into the living room, I saw some dust on some of the tables and parts of the chairs. I wondered how often Harry ever used these things. When he was alone, what did he do? Did he just go into his room and sleep? Did Harry even have a hobby?

I found my phone and went to my music, playing the first song I found. The music drafted through the empty space in the house, like some kind of foreign sound that didn't match the surrounding. I looked around, tensed up, for a few moments, until the music had its calming effect on me.

And I set to work.

I wet a rag I found in a dresser, that looked like it hadn't been used in a while, and began wiping the dust off of everything I found. When the dust was gone, I went into the kitchen and began making cookies.

Now, you'd think it was strange for me to make cookies in Harry's house, right? But I didn't really think about it. I just thought of cookies-and I decided to make them. I wondered if Harry even liked cookies. If he doesn't, then that only means more for me, right?

I looked up a common recipe on my phone, getting out all the ingredients I needed. Upon finding the peanut butter, I decided to make peanut butter cookies. They were my favorite, after all. The music continued playing from my phone, and the songs varied with each one passing through. I've never been the girl who liked one particular genre when it came to music; I liked just about anything, to a certain extent.

And I began working the magic.

I had the dough all made and had to look for a cookie sheet. I was panicking for a moment when I couldn't find one, but I found one above the fridge in a cupboard. However, as I looked over it, I could tell I needed to wash it. Just to be safe. And as soon as it was washed and dried, I began forming cookie dough balls, placing them neatly onto the cookie sheet. All through this, I was humming lightly along with the music.

It took me a few moments to figure out how to work his oven. I was so used to using the brand new ones, while this one didn't seem new at all. But nonetheless, I had it fixed, and just had to wait for it to reach the right temperature.

"Don't need nothin'," I sang lightly to the song playing, "but a good time. How can I resist? Ain't lookin' for nothin', but a good time, and it don't get better than this." I even giggled a little as I hummed the guitar solo, and was interrupted when the oven made a ringing sound with the temperature was reached.

I carefully put the cookies inside, feeling the intense heat radiating from the confines of the oven. I set up a timer as I wiped at my hands, feeling like I had just accomplished something.

I cleaned all the dishes I've used, seeing that Harry also had a dish washer. It wasn't quite full when I loaded everything, so I decided not to start it quite yet.