cherry (h.s)

twenty eight

Before we start, I just wanted to let all my crumble readers know that i've officially began the third book and you can access it on my profile right now, I love you, enjoy

Charlotte Thompson

I heard the sound of running water when I woke up.

My body shifted in the soft, silk sheets as my mind slowly started to become more aware.

I look at the analog clock on the bedside table, expecting it to be later in the morning.

But it was 4 a.m.

I furrow my brows and sit up a little bit in Harry's bed, seeing a light coming from under the bathroom door.

Maybe Harry had just gotten up to use the bathroom.

Eventually, after maybe 5 more minutes, the door opens and Harry returns, but he was dressed in black jeans and a white 'Rolling Stones' band shirt.

He makes eye contact with me on the bed. "Hey, I was about to wake you up." he mumbles.

I rub my eyes. "It's four in the morning."

"I know it is." he responds.

"What could you possibly need me to be awake for? We don't have to be back on the bus until 2."

He ignores me and grabs a black duffel bag and places it on a glass table across the room. His back was facing me and he was blocking the bag, so I couldn't see what he was doing.

"Harry?" I speak again, hoping he'll give me some input about what's happening.

He pauses and takes a deep breath. I watch as his back lifts up and then down slightly.

"Okay." he says with a sigh, then turns around. He places his hands on the edge of the table behind him as he leaned on them for support. "I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise you'll stay calm."

Those words instantly made my stomach drop in nervousness. I tense up on the bed and hug my knees to my chest. "O-okay."

He looks down at his feet and takes his bottom lip between his teeth before talking again.

"Someone was at the show last night...and by 'someone', I mean whoever is hunting us down." he says.

My breath hitches and I feel my palms become sweaty. "How do you know?"

He sighs once more and turns back to the bag, digging through it quickly and taking out a piece of paper, which he then walks over to me.

Once the paper was in my hand, I look at it in fear.

It was Harry's picture, but it was defaced like the one we saw before we left for Philadelphia.

"Oh my god." I mutter under my breath.

"I found it in my dressing room, which was also trashed." he explains.

"Is this what caused you to have a bad trip?" I question, piecing together the events of last night.

He just nods without speaking any actual words.