Sober - An Exclusive Modest Series Novella (Larry Stylinson AU)

Chapter 3 - Way too soon

Exciting announcement, next to this post I added the cover of my new exclusive and original Crime/Romance Thriller called Forget me. What do you think? Would you read it? What are your thoughts on Sober so far? LOVE YOU ALL Hope you like my cover. This chapter is for @PoppinMolly I love you too much. Thank you, for everything.

Chapter 3 – Way too soon

For what felt like the millionth time, Harry opened his eyes. Only this time one was swollen closed, his head ached. His skin was burning hot and he was sheened with sweat as he looked up at the flourescant lights, a nurse stood over him with an ice pack. She pressed it against his swollen face all the while clicking her tongue. 

“I blacked out,” he grumbled, his voice was dry. 

“You kicked one of the patients three times in the stomach,” she rolled her eyes, “Probably the most hits anyone has gotten on Trask.”

Harry smirked, “Good, I hate when people spit in my face.”

She frowned now, leaning closer – she smelt like sweet flowers with a scent of cinnamon, “This place,” she began. He tried to move away, “It’s like a prison, there’s a pack mentality.”

“I’m not scared of him,” he hissed. 

She laughed, “Well Mr. Styles, you should be.”

“Why?”

“Why?” She sat back and continued holding the ice pack to his swollen, aching face. “Sometimes when the juvenile prisons have no room they get sent here. Drug addicts, felon’s, the mentally ill.” She sighed, her eyes flashing with what he could only assume to be the memories of seeing too many ghastly things. “I would keep my head down if I were you.”

“Everyone already knows who I am,” Harry hissed.

“Yes,” she nodded, “Don’t give them a reason to kick your head into the pavement.”

He opened his mouth but she took the ice pack and walked away. At the door she looked over her shoulder, green eyes studying him. “Be careful Harry, or you’ll never get out.” Then she was gone, her words leaving his stomach in knots. 

A man with pale skin and a round face stepped in, he was wearing a deep purple shirt beneath his white lab coat and holding a clip board. He smiled at Harry as he closed the door, “Ah,” he said. “You’re awake,” he was short with a limp and a cane, he had a wide smile with dimples and a stern expression as he pulled up a chair next to the bed. “Harry is it?”

“You know that’s my name,” Harry grunted as he sat up. “When can I speak to Louis.”

“How long have you been addicted to drugs Harry?” The man asked, ignoring his question. 

“I don’t know, I’m not addicted.”

He smiled, “Okay,” he wrote something down. “How long have you been using drugs more then recreationally?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Nor should I,” The man sighed. “Yet here we are, trapped within this facility, so why don’t we talk.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“The other patients would beg to differ,” he said scribbling down frantically on his notepad, his brows furrowed. “Do you lash out violently often?”

“When I have to.”

“On a scale of one to ten how badly do you want to hit me?” He asked.