The Styles Effect [COMPLETE]

Chapter 4: Cat and Mouse

I sat in my seat with a stiff posture, watching Psycho Harry lean back in his chair across the table, his long fingers thrumming against the wood as he licked the red substance off the knife in his other large hand, licking his lips while staring down at the weapon.

"Hm, raspberry jam. I was sure I got strawberry." He mused, a slow smirk spreading across his face before he looked back up to meet my gaze as I nervously laughed and nodded my head, fisting the fabric of my shirt in fear under the table.

Oh fuck me fuck me fuck me I'm gonna die fuck me fuck me.

"Sorry about the whole Greek recipe failure. Guess I wasn't made to make Baklava but I do make a mean PB and J." He sighed with a small amused chuckle, placing the knife back down on the table as he gestured towards the sandwhiches he had made for the both of us.

I grit my teeth, trying to maintain my smile as I nodded and peered down at the food in front of me.

"What's wrong pumpkin? You were so friendly back at the store, you're so tense now." Harry noted, his voice friendly and soft but the look in his dark green eyes deadly as he rested his elbows on the table, rubbing the slight stubble on his sharp jawline as he leaned forward in his seat and patiently observed me.

Like a predator stalking it's prey, waiting for them to take the bait.

"Oh yeah, just- just hungry." I swallowed, struggling to keep my voice even as I forced myself to meet his intense gaze.

"Well by all means eat, after all you did help me bring my food in. You scratch my back, I scratch yours, or rub if you prefer, you still look very tense." He offered, giving me a charming and alluring smile as he slowly cracked his knuckles, watching the veins under the skin of his large masculine hands as I remembered a scene in the fanfiction he was from.

I remembered when the main character of Psycho Harry's story found his past victim's bodies in his basement, all girls around the same age with hand marks on their necks from being strangled.

God I am so fucked.

We watched eachother in silence, our eyes still locked in an intense stare down as he brought a glass of water to his lips while I balled my hands into tight fists at my sides.

No, not this time.

I always criticized the main characters in fanfictions and everything they did in their story.

But I knew exactly what was going to happen, I was the one with the advantage here, if anything Psycho Harry should be the scared one here.

I was going to do this my way.

"Alright, let's just cut to the chase. You're not going to just let me walk out of here are you." I blurted out, crossing my arms over my chest keeping my voice steady as a slow lazy smile spread across his face while he raised his brows at me.

"My my, such a smart conclusion from a girl who willingly followed a complete stranger into his home." He chuckled, playing with the knife in his hand, his pointer finger at the tip of the knife as he spun the handle around, his eyes never leaving mine.

"So you're just going to kill me now is that it." I breathed, trying to recall all the details of his story that I read long ago, my hands subtly groping the underside of his dining table, my fingers brushing against the thick material of rope he taped underneath it for easier access just like he did in the fanfiction.

I tried to hide my smile, this was just like taking a test and knowing all the answers to it.

And when you know all the answers, you can't fail.