THE CURB (MATURE HARRY STYLES AU) #WATTYS2016

CHAPTER THREE.

I try to keep up with Harry's long strides across the empty hallway but my legs are shaking and I'm still crying which is making it difficult for me to walk. To make everything worse, I stumble over my own feet, causing Harry to stop and snap his head in my direction. His eyes are narrowed and his jaw is continuously clenching and unclenching making it obvious that he's trying to control his frustration.

I shyly look up into his green eye only to find him staring down at me intently as if ready to burn me with his glare. I quickly avert my gaze towards the floor before clenching my eyelids shut like a scared child. My body tenses and I hold my breath, waiting for his palm to collide with my cheek but it never does. Instead, he grabs my chin and tilts it upward towards his face. 

"Open your eyes, Stella." He says, his voice almost inaudible and for a moment I think that It's just my imagination, since my name isn't even Stella but as soon as the grip on my chin becomes painfully tight, my eyes flicker open on their own. A gasp escapes from my dry throat seeing his face only a few inches away from mine, way too close for my liking. 

I try to move my head away but the tight grip on my chin makes it impossible for me to move even an inch. His thumb comes up to my bottom lip and he traces its outline almost gently. 

"You're my girl. Yeah?" He whispers sternly, raising his eyebrows when I try to avert my gaze away from him in an attempt to avoid his question. 

Aware of the fact that he is not a patient man, I part my lips to say yes but no words come out of my mouth.

A sharp intake of breath sounds in my ears and I feel myself shiver slightly. It's a sign that he's done being gentle. 

"Please, don't."I cry out when he wraps an arm around my waist and roughly pulls me closer to himself so that I'm pressed up against his body.

"Please don't, what? Huh?" He seethes, his voice telling me how angry he is. "Please don't, what?"

I remain silent, not knowing what to say. Should I tell him that I'm sorry? Should I beg for freedom? Or should I tell him that I'm not Stella, I'm Laura. Laura Stevens.

Seconds feel like hours as he holds me against him, arm contracting further and further until I find it almost impossible to breathe.

"Don't do this." I choke out, shaking my head and pushing against his hard chest. "What do you want from me? I'm not. I'm not Stella. My name is L-"

My words die down and a small shriek of surprise leaves my mouth when Harry's palm makes contact with my cheek. The impact so hard that I feel myself go numb for a moment.

"Lies. I'm just so tired." He snarls and I sob quietly, bringing my hand up to my sore cheek and trying to soothe the burning flesh.

"This is not you. Don't make me do all this." I am surprised by the drastic change in his tone. From animalistic snarls to soothing, gentle ones. 

His hand comes up to cup my cheek, the one he'd assault not so long ago. I feel his fingers running up and down, almost like a caress and I let out another hard sob.

"You're my precious girl. My one and only." 

Precious girl. One and only. What the fuck is all this?

"Hush, don't cry now." He comes, pressing his lips on my forehead momentarily before forcefully resting my head on his chest. 

"I just want the best for us, baby." He says stroking my hair and I make no attempt to push him away, too tired to put up a fight. All I do is sob quietly, letting my tears soak into his shirt.

"C'mon now," Harry sighs almost reluctantly before pulling away from me and taking my hand in his. "You need to take a bath." He offers me a genuine smile for the first time and I can't help but notice how he looks like a Cheshire cat when he smiles with those big dimples and all. Looks almost normal.

Normal however is not the word that can be associated with him. He's crazy, out of his mind. Bipolar even.

Who kidnaps a random girl, keeps her locked in a dark room, and then claims to love her?

I feel sympathy towards whoever Stella was since she had to deal with Harry. A psychopath.

I'm so into my thoughts that I don't even notice that I'm no more in the dimly lit hallway instead I'm standing in a large, well-lit bathroom which smells of nothing but roses. I hear the sound of running water and avert my eyes in the direction of a sound source seeing a massive bathtub filling up with water. It's so big that two to three people can easily fit into it.

I gasp when feel Harry's hands making contact with my hips just above my underwear. His chest to my back as his cold lips graze at my neck, "You've missed this, haven't you? Me, preparing a tub for you every time you needed to bath?" He whispers, now nibbling on my neck.

I frown at his words. Missed this? He doesn't even know me and he's now assuming that everything in the bathroom was just how I like. Sure the scent is beautiful and everything in here is extravagant but it doesn't mean it's what I prefer. I like the lavender scent more, I like light colors but the walls here are bright shades of orange. The bathtub...

"Ouch," I say sharply as I feel pain in my neck. "Please stop, you're hurting me," I tell Harry but instead of doing what I'm telling him to do, he does the complete opposite and bites on my neck harder.

I wince at the pain and close my eyes, hoping that Harry will go away when I'll open them again.

"I said do you like it?" He says, his voice is husky and tone warning me to not disagree with him.

"Yes." I force myself to say and soon Harry stops biting my neck and places a small kiss over the sore skin, just causing it to burn more.

My eyes are still shut and I'm mentally begging God to stop all this. To wake me up from the nightmare I'm in. This can't all be real, Harry can't be real, it must be my dream nothing else, I assure myself. 

But all my self-assurance crumples as I feel Harry's hand tugging to my bra clips, trying to force them open. My reflexes act quickly and I turn around so that I'm facing him but as soon as I see his angry facial expressions, I know I've got myself in trouble.