Twisted

As I walked through the pitch black hallways, I trailed my arms against the wall. Each light switch I found, I turned it on, encasing me in light once more. I walked down the halls until I reached the stairs, and I carefully walked down them. The house seemed eerie—too quiet for comfort.
And upstairs, in his bedroom, Harry was fast asleep. I could not find myself falling to sleep. I lay there, wide awake, staring up at the ceiling. I contemplated over many things. I wondered how different my life would be if I had stayed in America. But I kept remembering when I first came to London, and how I fell in love with it almost instantly.
Earlier in the day we had unloaded all the groceries. So now his fridge was full of food, as well as his pantry. I wandered into the kitchen, aimlessly looking over everything we had bought.
It was true what I said earlier. This place didn’t grow on me, at all. I still felt out of place, seeing the bare, plain walls. It seemed so lifeless.
As I walked into the living room, I saw some dust on some of the tables and parts of the chairs. I wondered how often Harry ever used these things. When he was alone, what did he do? Did he just go into his room and sleep? Did Harry even have a hobby?
I found my phone and went to my music, playing the first song I found. The music drafted through the empty space in the house, like some kind of foreign sound that didn’t match the surrounding. I looked around, tensed up, for a few moments, until the music had its calming effect on me.
And I set to work.
I wet a rag I found in a dresser, that looked like it hadn’t been used in a while, and began wiping the dust off of everything I found. When the dust was gone, I went into the kitchen and began making cookies.
Now, you’d think it was strange for me to make cookies in Harry’s house, right? But I didn’t really think about it. I just thought of cookies—and I decided to make them. I wondered if Harry even liked cookies. If he doesn’t, then that only means more for me, right?
I looked up a common recipe on my phone, getting out all the ingredients I needed. Upon finding the peanut butter, I decided to make peanut butter cookies. They were my favorite, after all. The music continued playing from my phone, and the songs varied with each one passing through. I’ve never been the girl who liked one particular genre when it came to music; I liked just about anything, to a certain extent.
And I began working the magic.
I had the dough all made and had to look for a cookie sheet. I was panicking for a moment when I couldn’t find one, but I found one above the fridge in a cupboard. However, as I looked over it, I could tell I needed to wash it. Just to be safe. And as soon as it was washed and dried, I began forming cookie dough balls, placing them neatly onto the cookie sheet. All through this, I was humming lightly along with the music.
It took me a few moments to figure out how to work his oven. I was so used to using the brand new ones, while this one didn’t seem new at all. But nonetheless, I had it fixed, and just had to wait for it to reach the right temperature.
“Don’t need nothin’,” I sang lightly to the song playing, “but a good time. How can I resist? Ain’t lookin’ for nothin’, but a good time, and it don’t get better than this.” I even giggled a little as I hummed the guitar solo, and was interrupted when the oven made a ringing sound with the temperature was reached.
I carefully put the cookies inside, feeling the intense heat radiating from the confines of the oven. I set up a timer as I wiped at my hands, feeling like I had just accomplished something.
I cleaned all the dishes I’ve used, seeing that Harry also had a dish washer. It wasn’t quite full when I loaded everything, so I decided not to start it quite yet.
And when a disco song came on my phone, I recognized it instantly.
Unashamed, I began singing loudly to the beginning. “At first I was afraid, I was petrified. Kept thinking, I could never live without you by my side.” I grabbed the nearby spoon that I used to stir the dough and used it as my microphone. “But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong, and I grew strong, and I learned how to get along.”
And as the music began pumping, I began dancing throughout the kitchen. I swept across the wood floor, throwing my long, auburn hair around as the music consumed me. Since I felt truly alone, I didn’t care how I looked. I sang, off tone might I add, to the song and couldn’t stop myself from dancing. Oh, I loved it when songs made you want to dance. It was impossible to not dance to some of them. I felt like I was a puppet with strings, and the music was manipulating me; guiding me through the motions in a good, positive way. I felt like I really was loosening up from everything I’ve been going through lately, ranging from near-death experiences to the stress of spending a lot of my time with Harry Styles.
“Go on now,” I belted, pointing my makeshift microphone at my imaginary Harry, “walk out the door. Just turn around now, ‘cause you’re not welcome anymore. Weren’t you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye? Did you think I’d crumble? Did you think I’d lay down and die?”
My voice echoed throughout the space, filling it. It filled the voice of the loud silence, instilling it with something new. “Oh no not I! I will survive! Oh, as long as I know how to live, I know I’ll stay alive. I’ve got all my life to live, I’ve got all my love to give, and I’ll survive. I will survive! Hey hey!”
I began strutting through the room with the fireplace. I jumped on the sofa, my cheeks were flushed with energy and my feet felt like they wanted to move. I had no idea where this boundless energy came from; I just knew it was there. And I knew I wanted to move.
Some people liked to dance dirty. Some liked to tango. I just liked to move my feet.
I began twirling in the room, throwing my hands in the air. I felt so alive—so free. And I loved it. My hair whipped at my face from my motions.
And suddenly—the music stopped.
I whirled around to see what had happened, and when I saw Harry standing there, staring at me, I froze like a deer in front of headlights.
He was shirtless, like he normally was when he slept, and he wore red sweatpants this time. His eyes looked heavy, rugged from sleep, and his hair was unkempt, the curls twisting in different directions, messy. His mouth was hung slightly open, and I could see that his eyes were scrunched, as if he was trying to believe what he was seeing.
“What are you doing?” He asked slowly.
“Dancing.” I replied lamely.
Harry’s eyes scanned the room. He saw all the lights on, and his eyes landed on the oven that was turned on. He ventured into the kitchen at a slow, deliberate pace, looking like he was examining a mummy’s tomb instead of his own kitchen. I stayed put, my legs frozen, just watching him warily.
“What are you doing?” He repeated, more to himself than to me. I heard him open the oven to peer inside and heard him close it moments after.
“I’m making cookies.”
“Why?”
“I—”
“—it’s 2 in the morning.” Harry said, glancing at the clock. He rubbed at his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
He came around the counter to stare at me again. This time, he was a little more awake. And it really looked like he was trying to figure me out—like I was some kind of specimen he could not understand.
From his baffled look, I asked hesitantly, “Have you ever danced, Harry?”
“Danced?” He repeated slowly.
I nodded, taking a few steps towards him. “You know, danced. To music. Have you ever danced?”
“Not really.”
I smiled a little and closed the distance between us, grabbing him around the wrist. I pulled him towards the area I was once in, where there was space, and said, “Let’s dance.”
“Dance?” Harry asked, immediately shaking his head. “No way, Claire. I’m not dancing.” He spat the word dance and my smile tightened. Tonight I’m going to get him to dance.
“Come on,” I urged, feeling more relaxed when Harry looked this worn-out. It seemed it would take a lot more to make him angry. But when I wrapped his arms around my waist, and I saw him smirk slightly, liking how my hips felt underneath his fingers. I knew I had him. “You put your arms around my waist, like this.”
“Can I go lower?” Harry asked, his voice huskier, as he lowered his hands to graze my butt. My cheeks blazed and I instinctively raised his arms, keeping them on my hips.
“Keep them right there.” I instructed softly, forgetting that I needed my phone for music. I pulled out of his arms, having to pull harder when Harry tightened his grasp. “Hold on, I need to turn on the music.”
Harry released me and I hurried to my phone, turning on the song right after the last one. As the music slowly started, I hurried back to Harry and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me, his eyes darker than before, more focused.
“I like this,” He whispered, staring down at my face.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing myself closer, and once the beat got started, I began moving my feet. Harry didn’t even more as I did; he just stared down at me, his eyes watching every single move I made.
Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
“You have to move your feet,” I told him, trying not to meet his eye. I looked down at his feet, waiting for him to begin to move.
He began tapping his feet, and I nodded in approval as the song continued. I began moving my hips, and took my hands away from his neck to grab his. Without a warning, I began swinging our arms together, moving away so we could have more room to move. Harry’s eyebrows rose a little from the sudden loss of contact, and I shot him a lively smile as I guided his hands, making him dance.
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream
of what I need
I reluctantly released his hands, and shook my head when his arms immediately fell limp to his sides. Harry obviously didn’t know much about dancing, that was for sure. Either that or he was just too tired.
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I moved a ways back and danced on my own, using my arms to propel myself. I knew Harry was watching me, but I really didn’t care. Earlier, when he suddenly appeared, I felt shy; withdrawn. But now, like before, the music had its effect on me.
And suddenly, a loud ringing noise cut off the music. I recognized it instantly as the timer alarm, and I stopped dancing instantly to turn off the music. The oven continued ringing, and I grabbed the nearest mitten, completely forgetting about Harry, and checked the cookies. They were done. And they smelled amazing.
I quickly took them out, pausing to turn the oven off. I carried the tray of cookies to the nearest counter, and Harry was standing across the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. To my surprise, he had an almost amused smile as he watched me put away the mitten.
“What?” I asked, wondering if I had flour on me or something.
“I woke up,” Harry said, “to hear loud music coming downstairs. When I came down, I saw you dancing, jumping on the sofa, and singing into a wooden spoon.” I blushed a little, realizing he had seen everything I did earlier without me even knowing.
I tried to change the subject. “Do you like peanut butter cookies?”
“You’re so innocent,” Harry murmured, taking a few steps towards me, “aren’t you?”
“I-I’m not that innocent.” I mumbled, feeling suddenly smaller under his powerful gaze.
Harry smirked at my response, and in only two large strides, he had me pinned back against the counter. His arms had captured my wrists, raising my arms above my head, and his much larger form towered over mine. My breath hitched in my throat from our sudden close proximity. Harry felt so warm; his skin didn’t have an ounce of cold on it.
He bent his head to kiss me soundlessly, his hip joining against mine. Now I could feel his bulge pressing into me, and for some reason, my arousal roused from it. My cheeks flushed, and my heart sped up rapidly.
No. That did not feel good.
Harry rolled his hips, grinding slowly, purposely into me, and I couldn’t help but feel a spark of pleasure from it. Through the thin material of his sweat pants, I could very much feel his hard-on. And since I was wearing some shorts of his, also thin material, I could feel it even more.
“Feels good,” Harry’s husky voice barely registered in my hazy mind, “doesn’t it?” He continued grinding against me, and my pleasure only ignited even further.
“Please,” I whispered, closing my eyes tightly. “Don’t rape me, Harry.”
Harry chuckled at my plea. “I’m not going to rape you, Claire. If I wanted to rape you, I would’ve done it already.” With a low grunt, he suddenly released my hands to grab my hips. In moments flat, I was sitting on the counter, and Harry was in between my legs, looking quite pleased of himself. I felt a slight wave of whiplash from the sudden, quick movement, and didn’t have time to recuperate before he began kissing me again, his tongue forcing its way inside my mouth.
Now, when I’ve seen people kiss each other in movies like this, I’ve always thought it was gross. Who would want a tongue inside of your mouth?
But right now, this kiss was everything but gross. My body reacted instantly, and I pulled myself closer to his manhood, shivering a little when I felt the bulge press against my core. Why did it feel so amazing? I already felt myself getting light-headed, and Harry had barely done anything to me.
I was even kissing him back. Smiling a little, I fought against his tongue with mine, and I felt Harry press further against me from my participation. We both fought for dominance, and I reluctantly gave in eventually.
Harry suddenly thrusted against me, and the friction caused me to break away, breathing heavily. I wanted to moan—I wanted to make some kind of noise, but I stopped myself. Harry grabbed my legs and wrapped them snugly around his waist, and I locked my ankles. He was breathing a little heavily, too, though not as much as I was.
I began rolling my hips towards his, needing the friction. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed with the feeling, as I felt him pressing against me.
It feels so…good…
I felt like I had no brain. Like I couldn’t think. All my brain could register was how it felt to have a bulge pressing against my core.
Harry then began thrusting against me non-stop, taking powerful, slow thrusts. I leaned forward, trying to match his thrusts with my own, but would smudge up a few times. He continued moving against me, lowering his head to lay on my shoulder as his hips moved relentlessly.
My breathing picked up and I could feel the familiar warmth spreading throughout me. Before I knew it, I let out a struggled moan, and cut myself off, blushing deeply.
Harry paused, bringing his head back to smirk down at me from the noise. “Don’t be afraid to make noise. I want you to fucking scream.” With that said, he put his hands under my thighs and literally lifted me from the counter. I grabbed a hold of his broad, bare shoulders as he held me like I weighed nothing. With this different angle, he began thrusting into me again, and I clung to him tightly, panting right into his ear.
It was so raw. So real.
And soon, I was moaning, letting Harry pummel into me. The heat was now a wild fire inside of me, swarming dangerously, burning anything in its path. I could feel the heat coming off from Harry, and I saw how his hair was starting to stick to his forehead from a slight sweat.
“Harry,” I choked out, my eyes widening, my toes curling, “I’m close.”
He only grunted in reply and began moving me faster. I rolled my head back as I let out the loudest moan, coming straight from my belly, and I felt myself release against him. As soon as it ended, I felt him stop moving against me, and I went limp in his arms.
We didn’t have sex. We had clothes on, well except for Harry being shirtless.
But that felt amazing.
My entire body was trembling as Harry continued to hold me. Gingerly, he set me down on the counter, and I struggled to keep my head from rolling to the side.
I dully saw Harry go to put the cookies away in a zipblock back. And when he came back for me, he picked me up again, me straddling his waist like some kind of toddler, and he walked around to turn off the lights. We were swiftly left in complete darkness. I lay my head on Harry’s shoulder, feeling my eyes close, exhaustion finally seizing me. He carried me back to the room, and when he set me on the bed, I didn’t hesitate to snuggle into the blankets.
“Go to sleep.” He told me before exiting the room. I figured he wanted to finish himself off, and with that as my last thought, I fell asleep in complete darkness.
I woke up when Harry’s phone began ringing.
“Yeah?” I heard the dull drone of a voice talking through the phone. I buried my head in the pillow, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. “Where? For fuck’s sake, I don’t want him there. When did this happen?” I felt the covers being thrown and Harry got off the bed. “Hold up, I’m on my way.”
I wanted to ask him where he was going, but I didn’t. I was too tired. I listened to him change clothes in the dark, and heard him open the door.
Then he was gone.
And I fell back asleep.
I woke up again when my bladder was in need of release. I got out of the bed and began trudging to the bathroom, not hesitating to turn on every light switch again as I walked there.
I used the restroom and took a quick bath. As I found another change of clothes, I made a mental note to tell Harry I want to go home today. My apartment was a mess, and I needed to clean it. I made my way downstairs, seeing a, once again, silent empty house, and began making some cereal.
I saw the bag of cookies and paused to try one. Nodding in approval, I finished making my cereal and took a seat at the counter.
Silence.
I ate, feeling a little unnerved in this huge, empty house. I glanced at the bare walls, wondering how different this place would look if someone tried to put some decorations. It could actually turn out to be a gorgeous place, if someone put some effort.
It was then I remembered I had a job.
Key word: Had.
I was probably fired from missing days straight in a row. Sighing heavily, I finished my cereal and felt a little angry towards Harry. Yes, last night was “fun” but that didn’t hide the fact that he kept me here against my will. I had a job, and I probably lost it because of him
I needed to return to reality.
So I sat there, feeling completely sorry for myself, wondering what kind of karma I deserved for receiving such terrible circumstances, until I heard the door bell ring. It actually slightly startled me, partially because I remembered the man that had broken in before, and because the noise was so abrupt.
I immediately glanced over at the front door, my entire body stiffening with fear. Who was it this time? I knew it couldn’t be Harry, since he would never ring the doorbell. Why would he? It’s his house.
I quickly grabbed a sharp knife wider than the width of my arm, and edged closer to the front door. I crouched low, in a defensive position, ready to take on anything, except a gun of course.
I should be running into the house to hide. But for some reason, I felt a strange, compelling curiosity that made me want to find out who it was. Thankfully there was a peephole at the door.
I’ll just see who it is. If it’s some random guy, I’ll run.
I approached the door with utmost caution. When I reached it, my grip on the knife tightened almost painfully, and my entire body tensed up. I stood up straighter to peer through the peephole, and what I saw made me open the door without a moment of hesitation.
There, on the doorstep, stood Kim. She immediately brightened up when she saw me, and exclaimed, “Ta da!”
“Kim?” I asked, shocked. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She brushed past me. “I’m here to save you!”
“No,” I murmured in horror. “No, you can’t be here.”
“Why not?” She began looking over the house, her eyes wide. “Holy shit. This guy’s loaded.”
I closed the front door, realizing that the alarm just went off. Harry was going to be pissed. And he’ll be here any second.
“You have to leave!” I hissed. “Get out, Kim!”
She noticed my alarmed tone. “Why? What’s going on?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’ve been worried sick over you, Claire. You haven’t answered any of my calls.”
“I didn’t know you were going to come all the way here from America.”
“Of course I will! You’re my best friend.” Kim’s eyes softened in concern. “So, my car’s outside. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“I can’t do that.” I said quickly.
“Why not?”
“He’ll find me.”
“Nonsense.” Kim waved her hand at me, reaching to grab my wrist. “Quick, get your stuff.”
“He’s going to get here any minute.” I began repeating, feeling terrified. “You have to leave, Kim. You have to.”
“I will drag you outside if I have to.” Kim snapped, hands on her hips. “Now grab your purse. Come on—we’re leaving.”
My throat went dry as I numbly grabbed my purse, finding my phone on the table. I left the lights on as I followed behind Kim, and I kept glancing at the entrance, expecting to see Harry pulling in.
I’m dead. I’m dead.
“I rented this baby.” Kim gushed with a smile, pointing to a yellow Beetle awaiting us. “Isn’t it adorable?”
My face felt pale. I shakily got into the car, torn between what to do. Yes, I wanted to get out of here. But Harry was going to be so pissed…I couldn’t just “run” from him.
Could I?
Kim began driving, and I held tightly onto my seat, the suspense killing me, as we approached the entrance. And then we were driving smoothly down the road, with the radio on, Kim singing happily along, and I finally released the air stuck in my lungs.
I felt relieved.
I was away.
I had escaped.

Notes

Dun dun DUN! What do ya'll think? Do you think Claire should've ran away? Do you think Harry's going to be pissed? You shall all see soon :D

I apologize for taking so long to update. I've been sick, Thank you all so much for the views. I love you all.

Don't forget to RATE AND VOTE :))