RED ROOM [H.S]

16.

It took me a moment to realise that I wasn't dead. Apart from a throbbing pain in my chin from the force of the gun, I was still very much alive, and still very much sharing the same space as Harry. I let out a gasp, struggling to collect my breath that I had been holding. My chest heaved as I came to terms with what had just happened. Slowly, the gun was lowered and I opened my eyes to see Harry staring at me. His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes trailing over my face as if he was questioning whether or not I was really still here and not lying in a pool of my own blood.

Tilting his head at me, his movements paused for a moment and just for a brief moment, his face relaxed and he almost looked normal, despite the gun in his hand. The moment was gone within the next second as Harry's eyes darkened and he laughed. A sound so sinister, it sent an unwanted shiver down my spine. It sounded animalistic and unhinged as it echoed off the walls, drowning out the music from the other side of the door. The fact that there were so many people out there that could possibly help me made me sob. Instead, they were more than likely going to find my body if Harry wanted to give Russian Roulette another go. I didnt let my body relax at the fact the bullet didn't go straight through my mouth and into my brain. Harry was unpredictable and clearly not all there in the head. I had a feeling that this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

Stepping closer again, Harry gripped my face between his fingers. I struggled to move it away but he just held me tighter.

"Hm," Harry breathed, rubbing his nose against my cheek again, breathing me in. I was sure I smelled like nothing but salty tears and sweat, but it didn't seem to bother him. I flinched away as best as I could, but he only moved his hands from my mouth to my waist to keep me in place before moving his hand back up to my mouth. "Guess the universe doesn't want little Spice to die tonight."

He brush a few strains of hair out of my face before he spoke again. "Maybe it's me they want," he mumbled softly.

He released my face, but only to press the gun to his own head and shut his eyes again. His own sweat dripped from his forehead. He didn't bother to move his hair away from his forehead like he did for me. Instead, he begun mumbling something under his breath.

I watched his lips as they moved quickly, and if I didn't know any better, he was saying a prayer. Ironic because I thought he belonged in hell, right besides Niall, who was now sneaking up behind Harry. He moved quickly and quietly, not even Harry heard him. He crept closer and closer until he was standing directly behind his friend. In one quick movement, Niall's hands were on his biceps. knocking the gun out of his hand. It fell to the floor by their feet, and he quickly picked it up. He turned the safety on before shoving it in the waistband of his jeans.

Harry's eyes opened and he stumbled slightly before scowling at his friend.

"Niall!" He complained, glaring. "You're ruining the fucking game."

Niall shook Harry by the shoulders, almost as if he was trying to literally shake some sense into him. If it was anyone else, I'm sure they would of shook with fear at the way Harry stared at them but not Niall. He only looked pissed. Like this was a huge inconvenience to him.

"Snap out of it, Harry!" He demanded. "This isn't the place for this. I can't help you if this place finds a dead body in it, there's over fifty people outside of this room."

Harry seemed to consider this for a second. He glanced over Niall's shoulder to me and then back at Niall. He nodded slowly, as if what Niall was saying was now registering in his brain. Niall nodded along with him, before dropping his hands and cursing to himself.

"Do me a favour and wait in the car," Niall muttered, throwing a pair of keys at Harry that he dug out from his pocket. "Just until your mind clears up. I'll take you to the apartment, okay?"