Schizophrenic // Harry Styles

Chapter 4

Sorry for the lack of updating! I've been sick >_< Enjoy<3

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Chapter 4 – Chloe's P.O.V.

            My eyes fluttered open to the sunlight seeping in through the blinds. My curiosity went wild as I realized I had no nightmares last night. I always have a nightmare. Every single night it's either something new, or the same haunting dreams as always. But my fear only picked up when I felt a large arm snaked around my waist, my head on a solid and bare surface. My eyes grew huge as my heart pounded erratically in fear against my ribcage. I shot up from the bed, my skin paling.

            Harry sat up in alert. "Are you all right, Chloe?" he asked, his British accent rougher from sleep as he squinted at me through the light.

            I stayed quiet, not being able to form words as my breath hitched in my throat. I looked down at the bed I was just lying in, then at Harry who I was just miraculously cuddling with. My eyes trailed over his bare torso, seeing his left arm was nearly filled with tattoos. Two birds swopped inwards on his chest while a butterfly sat in the middle of his abdomen. I tore my gaze away nervously, slowly backing up as I raked a shaking hand through my hair.

            "Chloe...?" Harry trailed off slowly, looking at me with concern as he rubbed sleep out his beautiful emeralds.

            My chest rose and fell rapidly at the realization of cuddling with a stranger hit me. It was never intended, but I have the faintest memory of asking for him to lay with me. Or had I dreamt it and he actually hurt me?

            Harry's eyes scanned over my pale face before he sighed slightly, standing from the bed. "I didn't hurt you, Chloe," he said quietly, as if reading my mind. My eyes trailed up to meet his sincere ones, my heart melting at how truly sympathetic he was towards me. Any other person would've sent me back to the institution by now. "Don't you remember what happened last night?" he asked softly, standing in his spot.

            I stared at him, swallowing the lump in my throat as I merely shook my head. I remembered bits and pieces, but I needed to make sure my memory was correct. The slightest trust bond was forming towards Harry deep inside me, but I didn't need to start trusting someone I hardly knew. I've learned my lesson.

            Harry nodded, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. "Last night you... well, you attempted to, erm, kill yourself, Chloe," he said gently. "After I got you down, you kind of broke into tears and asked me to stay with you. I did, but then you woke up saying you were scared, and you asked me to lay with you. Do you remember that?"

            My eyes fell to the floor as the previous night slowly came back to me. I was never fully asleep, but the taunting voices were rolling through my ears. I remember feeling alone, even with Harry's presence beside me. I was speaking half asleep when I asked him to lay with me, but as soon as the bed dipped beside me, I remember the voices had stopped. It was this true miracle of relief when Harry laid down beside me, and his presence made me feel oddly safe and comfortable. It's a weird feeling for me to feel, especially since I hardly know the boy.

            "Do you remember, Chloe?" Harry asked gingerly, his kind eyes still twinkling at me in concern.

            Slowly, I nodded my head, but then my eyes widened in fear. I jerked my head to look up at him, my throat going dry.