With her father on a fast track to political stardom, Anna's quirks and "out there" personality have always been looked down upon. After years of struggling with her stifled emotions, she ends up institutionalized, surrounded by strangers and lost i...
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The reflection of the early morning sunlight bounces off the bright white walls and seeps into the small cracks of her eyelids. Anna's body is overheated and tired. The weight of an unfamiliar presence presses against her backside. Thinking she's in her own bed, she's surprised when she turns over to find Harry, asleep and dreaming, fluttering in rapid eye movement.
"Fuck, Harry," she whispers, shaking his unmoved body. Harry leans over further atop of her and cuddles her like a baby koala. He wraps his leg and arm around her, pushing his heat against her even more than before. The pounding of his mid-dream heart beats against her awake chest. "Harry, get off of me. I have to go to my room."
"We need to go to the farmers market." Harry says half asleep, nestling into the crook of her neck.
"Oh, really? What do we need?" She indulges in the adorable moment.
"I want strawberries. And apples. Can you hold my hand?" Harry kisses the stretched tendon of her neck, the brown hair atop of his head brushing against her sensitive skin.
"Of course," Anna says, taking his hand into hers. "But I really do have to go. Can you wake up, please?"
Harry's eyes strobe open. He's suddenly aware of where his reality lies. "Anna!" His face lights with happiness at the sight of her makeup-less, tired face. "Fancy meeting you here." He digs his fingers into her side and latches on like feral cat.
"I really have to go. We'll meet up for garden duty later."
"BED CHECK!" A loud voice booms on the other side of his door, accompanied by a knock on the door. "Open up, Styles, or we'll open it for you."
Anna squeaks, both her and Harry's eyes widening at the possibility of being caught, no matter how harmless, in his room. She scrambles up, frantically searching for a place to hide. The room scarcely furnished, only housing a small twin bed, tall boy of drawers and small desk and chair. As the door starts to creak open, she panics and stands her thin body against the wall behind the door.
Her face smushes against the thin plywood of the door. She struggles to breathe.
"May I help you, good sir?" Harry leans back on the bed, hands clasped behind his head.
The large frame of the male nurse slowly stomps into Harry's room. "Was there someone in here? I thought I heard another voice." The nurse looks back and forth. Anna stands just outside his vision.
"Just me, other than maybe the voices in my head." Harry smugly smiles.
"AGATHA! PUT SOME PANTS ON! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Nurse Ashleigh screams. Suddenly Miss Agatha Williams runs past Harry's open door, her giggle echoing throughout the empty institution hallways. "A LITTLE HELP HERE, STEVE!" Ashleigh yells to the worker in Harry's room as she herself darts by. Steve sprints out to help subdue the fleeing patient.
