Psycho || h.s.

Chapter 26

Raisa

"I still cannot believe you killed another person. Let alone Zayn!" Harry says after I've gone upstairs to change into something more comfortable, Zayn's body cleaned up unfathomably quick.

"And for me? You killed Zayn for me? Awh I'm honoured, babe, really." He says and I hide the small blush trying to appear because of the pet name.

"I panicked, okay? And why was there even a gun in the stair cases?" I ask.

"Just in case of an emergency. I knew it would be of some use one day. How did you learn to aim so well?" He asks another question.

"When I was 10, my father taught me how to shoot all types of guns, and every month I would go to the outdoor range and practice numerous amounts of places to shoot. I was taught to shoot the gut, but his head was only available, so I shot that. I was just really interested in guns as a kid, the last time I shot one was when I was 16, so almost 3 years ago. I've still got my aim" I smile cockily.

"Not as great as my aim, though." He says.

"Is that a challenge, Styles?" I ask, raising one eyebrow.

"Hmm I'll have to take you up on that one, Abid." He says my last name, wrong, but enough for my to understand that he's saying my last name, and I get confused.

"How'd you know my last name?" He asks.

"Believe it or not, I've been around quite some time. I used to know your parents, and they really favoured me, until I interrupted one of their missions. I had my first kill that day, I was 16." He said, and my eyes widen in surprise.

"How old are you now?" I ask.

"I am 23." He says.

"I have a proposition for you, Styles." I say, a small smirk hinting at my face.

"Hmm" he says, his eyes adverting their attention from the TV to me.

"We can play 20 questions, if you let me play with your hair." I say, my proposition quite childish.

He playfully scoffs, "What's in it for me?"

"You get to know more about me, I guess? And you get your hair blessed by my hands." I say.

"Excuse me? My hair is already blessed, but I'll accept your proposition anyways." He says and I tell him to sit on the floor.

He obliges, and I have my legs on either side of his shoulders.

I been putting his hair into three parts equally down his head and I tie the middle part.

"Okay so, hmm. Biggest fear?" He asks, and I begin to Dutch braid the first side.

"Not being good enough" I mumble, my focus solely on his hair.

"You?" I ask, halfway down the first side.

"Silence. But not the silence that you hear in a library, but that kind of silence that just drives you crazy, and you just fiend for any kind of sound, or voice to speak" he says, and I kind of seem surprised of his answer, much more deeper than mine. The good thing about braiding his hair is that he is not facing me and cannot see my reactions.