Stalker HS

Chapter 15**

My eyes slowly peeled open to find Harry missing from his spot on the bed. I distinctly remember waking up several times throughout the night to find him right there. He would groan for me to go back to sleep, then pull me back into his arms. But this time I am alone.

My hair messily fell in front of my face. To which I became distraught that someone would see me look so disorderly. But then again, Harry has probably seen every part of me. So why should I care? With this thought I rolled the big, silky comforter away from my body. Then drowsily proceeded to roll myself off of the bed. My feet found the floor after a brief and quite tiresome fight to get them to the ground without falling and hurting myself.

My legs were just too small for the height of this bed. Something I would never get used to.

The carpeting on Harry's floor was softer than I had imagined. The white it showed off was a lot cleaner than I had expected too. But, I had expected a murder scene. So practically everything about his room was a surprise to me.

The door was opened, so I hobbled out on my own. My legs were freezing. Oh my god. My legs are practically bare. I may not have been drunk, or high, but last night only came in blobs of memory. Having taken off my skirt was one of the memories that didn't seem to stick. But how embarrassing was it to be in just these tights, my underwear and an oversized sweatshirt, while now standing in front of your stalker. At least the shirt covered my bum. The tights were very much see through. But I did think this would be a cute outfit.

"I was just about to go get you." Harry smiled, clasping his hands together. "How convenient for me."

I blushed heavily and crossed my legs. Not sure of what he wanted from me, I stood still. Staring up at him in fear. My body just froze.

"Do you want breakfast?" He asked, taking hold of one of my hands.

I didn't answer. So Harry took it as a yes. He yanked me towards his tiny dining room and sat me down on a chair. A heavy waft of cinnamon oatmeal and toast warmly took over my senses.

I picked up a spoon and looked up at Harry for approval. He nodded and sat in front of me. With his okay, I started to eat the oatmeal slowly.

"Did you sleep okay sweetheart?"

"Yes..." I say, my voice far more hoarse than expected.

"Pheobe, are you sick?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know... I don't think so."

Harry pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. His mouth stretched to one side of his face as he concentrated. I rested my head against his hand drowsily.

"Yep, you feel a little warm."

I pouted, not really wanting to be sick. Especially when I have work tonight and it's only my second day. This situation was not my favorite.

"You finish breakfast, I'll go get you a blanket so you can rest on the couch." Harry smiled and walked into his room.

My eyes fell onto the oatmeal. When did I eat all that oatmeal? I shrugged and started to eat my toast. Which was gone soon after, making me feel like a pig. It was abnormal for me to eat this much in one meal. But the moment I had the chance, I pigged out intensely.

"I'll take that." Harry says, then picks up my dirtied dishes. "Head to the couch missy."

I hobbled over to the couch. Slouching and all. This was at the very least attractive. But it felt good to plop down and roll into a warm blanket. I was quite peaceful in Harry's home. I haven't seen a single out of place stain, mysterious blood spatter, or beaten and half dead girl. His flat was nicer than my house in reality. He in general has seemed much nicer this morning.