One Direction/ 5sos BSM

He Takes You from Your Parents pt.2

Your POV

"I'm going out. I'll be back in one hour and if I find out that you tried to leave this house, you'll be in for it. Understand?" Harry peeked his head into my bedroom. I remained silent but nodded to make him leave. Unfortunately, head movements weren't enough. I knew he hated it when I didn't respond with words but sometimes I do it just to make him mad. To remind him that he can't fully control me.

He stormed over to where I sat motionless at the desk. "Stand up." He demanded. I took my time pushing the chair out and getting to my feet. My head was kept downwards, staring at my feet. "Apologize and respond the correct way, (y/n). Now." Harry ordered. I rolled my eyes though he couldn't see and continued my unneeded apology.

"Sorry. And yeah I understand." I groaned, trying to make it sound remotely acceptable for Mr. Perfect. Without warning, his hand roughly grabbed my chin, making me stare back up at his less than pleased face. His fingers felt like iron rods on my face while his eyes held unappeasable frustration.

"Say it and mean it." He growled, annunciating every consonant to display his anger. I was not scared, however. I told myself that I would not fear him at moments like this. Harry can very easily pick up on things like that and I knew it.

"I'm sorry that I did not answer with my words and yes I understand that if I try and leave that house I will get in trouble." My voice shook the least bit and I silently cursed myself. Harry knew I would obey him. He knows I'm too scared to see the consequences if I don't.

"Very big trouble." He added. His hand was no longer gripping my chin and his lip that gets tucked under when he's mad was back to normal. Without another word, he was walking out and soon enough, the sound of the front door being shut rang in my ears.

With Harry's security system, it was next to impossible to sneak out. He had alerts go to his phone every time a door or window was opened and by the time Harry would be racing to get home up the steep narrow path of the isolated house, I'd only be halfway down. He'd see me for sure, no way out. Not to mention the last time that I tried, he failed to tell me about the security system and instead let me bare the consequences. I was locked in my room for 72 hours with Harry bringing me meals and monitored bathroom breaks.

I decide not to sneak out.

As I roam the empty hallway, my eyes catches the door to his art studio. The one he never lets me in. With the paintings he never lets me see. I stop and focus on the door. The only dark wooden door down this hallway, all the others painted white. My hand reaches for the iron knob as I grasp its chilliness. I press my weight down on the lever-like handle as my stomach flutters in excitement.

Locked.

I try my luck again and repeatedly jiggle the handle but it doesn't budge. All my anxiousness and thrilling feelings diminish into disappointment as I walk away in defeat. Unless, if the key is where I think it would be...

My legs sprint to Harry's bedroom door. He never locks it since that's where my inhalers are held. He knows I could need them at any moment.

I never do anymore, though.

My hands rummage through his closet belongings until they hit a familiar wooden box. Something that resembles a jewelry box but instead, holds keys. I search and search for the one I remember to vividly. Late at night sometimes, I would see Harry go into his studio through the crack of my door. The key in his hand was attached to a maroon ribbon. I remember the way it dangled after he jabbed it into the keyhole. 

I finally grasp the right one. It's cold and hard as a rock. But I don't mind. Carrying it makes me feel powerful. Like it doesn't just open up the art room door. It opens up Harry's mind, his thoughts. He expresses himself through paintings rather than talking and to have an idea on how I may be able to play with his head can get me places. Maybe even out.