redemption: harry styles

Chapter Six

"She's so mean but I gotta love it."

-

The sun's rays were incredibly annoying, searing through the windows and lingering over my body. I sighed in frustration and dug my face deeper into the fluffy cushion. However, the morning sunshine was not the reason, for my awakening.

A faint eerie sound echoed in the small room I was in. The quiet, calming noises of a piano. A ringtone. And I felt the bed shift, moving slightly when somebody beside me shuffled around. His arms were curled around my waist, tightening his grip in a way in which it wasn't filled with pressure, before groaning out load and sliding off the bed.

I heard a small thumping noise when Harry grabbed his phone from the top of the drawers beside the bed, grunting. "Hello?" His voice sounded unfamiliar, hoarse and raw. The house was so quiet and the other person at the end of the phone spoke so loudly I heard clearly.

"Don't tell me you were asleep." I immediately recognized the voice of Eleanor's kidnapper, and cringed. That guy has hell to pay. "Aren't we going to the old ruins? If ya know what I mean."

Ruins? What the hell was he talking about?

The phone was silent as I watched Harry press the heel of his palm into his eye socket. And then I heard the other man chuckle evilly, "Oh," I could basically hear the smirk on his face, "told you not to drink so much."

Harry snorted, "It was the weed, mate." He sighed deeply, looking as if he just wanted to go back to bed. "Why the hell did you bring it over?" He questioned as the other man groaned.

"Don't gimme that shit, you asked for it. Literally... you asked for the weed."

Harry coughed heavily, "Whatever. Louis, do I have to go?" The other man didn't answer immediately.

"Well, Marcus said we need to pay him back tomorrow if we want him to keep up the cocaine. We can't be fucked finding a guy in this broken city; might as well do what he says.

"Or..." Harry trailed off, smirking, and I felt a cold fist clench my stomach.

The man on the other end of the phone was quiet, before answering, "He has a gang, Harry. I really hope you were joking then."

Or we could just kill him.

Harry laughed, "Of course, dip shit." The man snickered, "You are so coherent. You coming or not? We really need your help," and then I felt Harry's body shift, and his gaze landed on me.

"Um," Harry rasped, "yeah, Give me ten minutes."

And hung up, leaving an alone girl beside him frightened terribly. "I know you're awake." He stated calmly, and I almost laughed out loud.

"Good," I snapped, "now shut up and let me sleep." It takes all my will to talk to him, let alone say something like that. I curled up against the bed, hiding my face, preparing for something...cruel.

I was expecting to receive a nasty comment or yelling; Harry just laughed. "Are you mad?" He said and I sighed. Was he ever going to stop talking?

"Shut up." My heart rose a bit, but I didn't care. So far, Harry probably thinks I'm innocent and weak, but I could use my stubborn and bitchiness to show him otherwise. I don't want him to think I'm afraid... even though I was literally shaking at the moment.

"You seem feistier every time I talk to you." Harry stated calmly, and I fisted the pillow case in between my fingers.

"Is that a good thing?" Sarcasm filled my voice harshly, but Harry didn't seem to care any less.