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Silence and cold Lo mein noodles, a ghastly combination if you ask me. Harry and I were currently seated around a small round table that the motel room offered, drinking room temperature tap water out of paper cups that I'm not entirely sure how old they were. We have been in this motel room for three days now, I guess the fifty dollars a night was pretty cheap for places like this.

Harry twirled his noodles around with his chopsticks, I only saw him take two bites out of his food, he's mainly been playing with them for the past thirty minutes. I push my food away and sit back on the chair. "Have you heard anything?" I ask, finally breaking the silence. I've been bored before, but this is something else.

Harry looks up at me, a furrow between his eyebrows. "About what?"

I shrug. "The guys?" I say. "Do you know if they're okay?"

"No," Harry mumbles. "No one has said anything."

"I don't think we should've left the house. We were much safer there." Anyone could come in here at any given moment and there were no windows, other than the big one in the front of the room, holding up the AC unit.

"I was told to move you and that's what I did." Harry remarks, pushing his food away. I hated not knowing things, especially if Harry didn't know either. Who the hell is even telling him to move me anyways?

My chest then begins to heave, it seemed like I couldn't breathe. The air escaped me faster than it could even fully fill my lungs and I stood from my seat, almost knocking the chair down. Harry looks up at me. "I can't take it," I say, fanning my face. "I need air."

"Calm down, Valentina." He says, standing up to throw the noodles away in the trash.

I shake my head. "I can't," I was now practically gasping, my face felt hot and I could hear my heart thumping in my ears. "Can we please go for a walk or..or something?"

"No, we can't." Harry says, sternness in his tone. "Take a cold shower, it should make you feel better." He suggests but when he sees that I begin to pace, he stops me by grabbing my wrist. "Come here."

"What's happening to me?" I breathe out as Harry brings me closer.

"You're just having a panic attack," He says calmly as if this was something to be calm about. "You just need to stop and remember to breathe." He sits me down on his lap and helps me catch my breath, trying breathing exercises that manage to regulate my breathing in the slightest. "That's it, feel my breathing and mirror that." Once I'm calm again, I press my back to Harry's chest and sigh, feeling his warmth on me.

"They're okay, right? They have to be." I say more for myself.

"Yeah, they don't die that easy unfortunately." Harry coaxes. I look ahead, catching a glimpse of our reflection on the shut off TV. Harry looked off with a look of uncertainty in his face and all I could think about is what the front office clerk must've been thinking. He must see this all the time, a couple coming in the middle of the night and demanding a room. A one bed. He must've thought we were on some sort of lovers trip but in reality, we were running for our lives.

And we did look like a couple, especially in the way he has his arm around my waist to steady me on his lap. Even though it was just to calm me down. His chin rested on my shoulder and our breathing united. Most often than not, Harry and I fight but it almost always ends up in him teasing me. He drives me around everywhere because I'm sure he doesn't trust me behind the wheel just yet.

There was no denying the chemistry between us, if there wasn't any I don't think we would be getting a long as much as we do. Maybe I was out of my damn mind for thinking this, I know Harry would surely laugh in my face if he heard that I was growing a liking to him—the person who kidnapped me and who turned out to be my protector.

The whole situation is fucked up, I know I for one, didn't expect this at all. There's a difference in the way I feel around Zayn and Harry. Zayn doesn't excite me as much as Harry does, Zayn is more of a friend that I just couldn't see things escalating with. But then again, I don't think Harry would be all that accepting with moving whatever this is further. Maybe there's nothing there, maybe I'm reading in between the blurry lines and misinterpreting everything.

Maybe a cold shower would help, I might be loosing it. I look for clean clothes I would be sleeping in and head for the shower where my intrusive thoughts continue to assault and harass me.

Once out, Harry sat on the bed, various guns and ammo on it when I enter. "What are you doing?" I ask, drying my hair with the towel. He continues his actions as he loads the magazine of every single gun.

"Clearing my head." He says and moves onto the next one. The room is filled with the sounds of Harry loading the guns quickly, it's a satisfying sound but it makes me anxious thinking he's preparing for something I don't know about. "We need to talk about what happened back at the gas station." Harry speaks after he's done with the guns.

I turn to him. "About?"

"You froze," He says and I remember the guys coming in. "You can't do that."

At this, my eyebrows furrow. "I was reliving a bad experience—"

"That's the shit that will get you killed." Harry grits, glaring at me.

"Why are you bringing this up right now?"

"Because not less than an hour ago, you had a panic attack."

"That happens, Harry. If I'm overwhelmed or if I'm scared. I'm a human." I retort.

"You need to get over it," He quickly begins to put the guns away in his bag, keeping one for himself. "You're putting us at risk by doing that."

"How am I supposed to get over something like that?" I say, not believing what I was hearing. Was he so emotionally detached that it's easy for him to do? "What you're asking of me is ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is that you freeze whenever there is potential danger. I don't think you've quite grasped the severity of your situation. I'm not always going to be able to defend you, especially if you freeze or have a panic attack in the middle of a gunfight."

"Not everyone is as closed off emotionally like you." I cross my arms. How was he going to blame me for something that's natural? "And it's not like I mean to do it."

"Get ahold of yourself, for fucks sake."

"Fuck off." I glare, pushing past him to get to bed. As my back was to him, I hear him load his gun and when I turn I was staring directly at the barrel of the gun. My blood runs cold. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What are you going to do when someone holds a gun to your head?" His eyes appeared to be empty, almost as if he wasn't even really there. Like if he detached and his hands were in charge of the gun and not his mind. My feet stay grounded to the floor, almost as if I was super glued to it.

"Get it away from me." I say just barely above a whisper. He has threatened me with a gun twice before, this was the third time now. I felt fear, but more importantly I felt hate and any ounce of a liking I had for him quickly left.

"If not me, who else is saving you?"

"You're not going to shoot me." I say, more or so to myself. I'd like to think he wouldn't, but this man is crazy and the way his eyes are narrowed at me, I'm thinking maybe I'm wrong.

"How are you so sure?" He questions, a dark look in his eye. The truth is, I wasn't. I wasn't sure at all. My life quickly flashes before my eyes as I hear the sound of the gun going off. My eyes shut and my body jolts from the loud noise. When my eyes open again, he has the gun aimed away from my face and to the wall behind me.

There was loud ringing in my ears from how close it was to my face. He was still glaring at me as he puts the gun down. "Get out." I grit after finally coming to my senses. "Get out now!"

Without much thought, Harry walks out the door, slamming it behind him.

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