.Perfect Fantasy. |H.S.|

Chapter 45. Lifeline.

.Natalia.

Every part of my body was tingling with awareness, little by little and taking all of my strength to stay still while my instincts urged me to lash out and scream my lungs out, forcing the words through my suddenly tight throat.
No. Stop. Don't.
All that came out was a low, inarticulate sound that made no sense to anyone, not even me.
My fingers, now freezing cold and super stiff, ached from clutching my wrist and the world spun dizzily as the back of my legs wiggled to a more fitting position. I was not letting that bitch out of my sight.

I gritted my teeth as she placed a hand on Harry's hip, her bloody hands reaching for the hoodie I'd placed on him not minutes ago, and throwing it away, sharing a look with me that made my stomach go fucking nuclear with fury.

So I sat up, my taut, emotionally drained body screaming in pronounced soreness. I ignored the intense twinge in my ribs, ignored how much it hurt to breathe. I ignored the way my lips stung and my tongue felt thick with probable dehydration. I pushed to my feet to steady myself as her head snapped completely in my direction; knees shaking and teeth chattering with a never-ending stimulation between anger and fright when I caught her glossy and dilated pupils.

I knew that I was likely going into shock and I told myself to calm down—to breathe in and out slowly—because the only way I was going to get out of this was with a clear head.

She sat there for the longest time just looking at me, her legs still straddling him and her arms still clutching his clothes, one of her palms stretching across his stomach in an obvious reach to get my blood boiling mad. It worked.
She stared.
She sneered.
She waited.

One tiny step forward, then she moved away with speed and lethal precision, her own body sliding through the surface to clutch to the only lifeline I used to have in my possession. The fucking sidearm. Any hope of easy escape vanished. Reality hitting me once more, choking up my words as the walls closed in on me with the severeness of the situation; it was impossible to process my change in circumstances.

"Oh, you just make it so damn easy..." She leveled the gun to her sight, closing one eye as her vile smirk played with my fate, the lone finger tightening on the trigger. "For the last time," She inhaled and exhaled heavily for what seemed like minutes, hours, but in reality, there were only seconds. "Stay," I moved a step closer, and my gaze swept from the handgun to her empty eyes, those red-rimmed irises devoid of conscience. "...the fuck," my heart was beating tightly, having already a crude image of the bullet hole in my head. I laid a hand on my chest and pleaded to her with my eyes, flinching every time she moved the gun around, "...away from him."

She switched the gun with agility and domination, holding the gun now in her left hand, and still pointing it steadily at my forehead. I didn't know that she was ambidextrous; but not only was the woman wielding it just as easily with that hand, but she had a way to it that made me feel she had some sort of experience with weapons. My skin crawled.

Every instinct screamed danger. "Where'd you learn to do that?" I asked, trying to stupidly distract her from her fucked-up plan.

She shook her head slowly.
"Shut... the fuck... up."

"When you shot him..." I licked my lips, my eyes shifting all around, trying to find a way. "It... it wasn't the first time, right?"

Her mouth pulled to the side, "Of course not, you fucking idiot..." She rolled her eyes and gestured to me. "I've been taught..." Her voice crackled with a bone-chilling warning. "To never get no for an answer..."

What the fuck.

"Don't you..." My eyes strayed to the bed, and then I saw the crumpled comforter and Harry's legs. I felt a jolt, felt my chest constrict, but I tried to conceal it. One stupid idea after another flipped through my mind because time was surely running out. "Don't you realize how much damage you've done?"