Breaking Points

Part Three of Sophie Miller's Stockholm Syndrome
Sophie Miller is no stranger to kidnapping. Getting kidnapped four times in the span of nearly three years practically makes her an expert on the matter. Anne Miller though, Sophie's newly found sister and first time kidnapee, knows one thing her sister doesn't: never let Stockholm Syndrome into your head. It's easier said than done when the One Direction boys prove to not only to have sick, perverted sides, but also worried and loving ones. Will Sophie succomb to the boys' charming attitude once and for all, or will Anne manage to get herself and her sister out before she too is stuck with Stockholm Syndrome? After all, Harry, Niall, Louis, Zayn and Liam have proven repeatedly that their breaking points are right around the corner...


21. Beating Heart

Sophie’s POV

“Talk to me love... Please? I want to know what’s on your mind,” Harry asks for the thousandth time.

“I’m just tired Harry.... So, so, so tired,” I reply, slipping out of my clothes and into the bed. I hug the pillow tightly, digging my face into it. The mattress shifts as Harry climbs on the bed with me. His arm wraps around me, pulling me closer to him.

“I love you Soph, you know that right?” he mumbles before kissing the inside of my neck. I nod my head yes before sobs rack my body.

“I’m such a mess,” I whimper. “All I’ve been doing these days is crying. Why can’t I stop crying?!” I cry, fingers clenching the pillow.

 “Shhh, everything is going to be alright okay love? I promise,” he continues, rubbing my back. “Look at me Soph.”

Sniffling, I turn around so we’re face to face.

“There,” he smiles, wiping one of my tears away with the pad of his thumb. “You are so pretty when you cry...” he trails on. “I just want to hold you forever.”

An overwhelming need to hug him invades me and I find myself wrapping my arms around his neck, my head resting on his chest. His fingers slide slowly up and down my back, tracing random shapes.

I shut my eyes, listening to the steady beating of his heart.

After a couple minutes though, he shifts, moving so he’s spooning me. I cringe as I feel his warm crotch pressing against my back. I freeze completely when his hand slides inside my pants.

“Harry?” I mumble, worried.


“Not tonight. Please,” I beg, uneasy. He doesn’t reply, his warm hands moving to touch my thighs. I squirm. “Harry,” I repeat.

“Shhh Sophie it’ll be okay,” he responds calmly.

I panic when his fingers hook around my pants and panties, pulling them down.

“Harry no!” I scream, suddenly struggling to get away from him. He rapidly holds my wrists down, moving so he’s straddling me. “Harry please!” I plea, searching into his eyes.

His eyes aren’t focused on mine though; they’re feasting on my chest. I’m terrified as his lips descend on mine hungrily.

“Kiss me back,” he whispers sultrily. I don’t. His fingers pull my hair angrily, making me whimper. “Come on Soph... I know you want it.”

“No Harry, I don’t,” I beg, tears glistening in my eyes.

“I love it when you cry,” he mutters, digging his face into my neck while rolling is hips harshly into mine. “It gets me all hot and bothered to see you so helpless...”

“Stop Harry please!” I sob, shaking my head.

“Little slut, we both know you only want more.”

His words pierce a hole through my heart.


 My mind is hazy.

“Oh yes.”

 The curly-haired boy smirks, removing his shirt and unzipping his trousers.

Out of the blue, a searing pain ignites my head. I shriek, crying even more.

“Soph? Sophie what is wrong?!” Harry’s worried voice fills my ears. I sit up, all previous resistance gone like magic. The decor seems to have shifted, Harry fully dressed. I blink rapidly, grabbing my temples in pain. “Shit Soph you’re bleeding!” I whimper as he approaches me.

“Don’t touch me!” I weep, holding my head. My ears hurt. “Please Harry I don’t want you to rape me!”

“Lads! Call an ambulance!” Harry shouts urgently, flipping the lights on. I twist my face in a grimace, feeling a slick substance cover my fingers. I pull my fingers away to notice that they’re covered in blood. My blood.

“No!” I scream as Harry draws near me once more. “Please!”

“Shhh... It was nightmare Sophie. It was just a nightmare!” Harry tries reassuring me. “It wasn’t real! Please I just want to help you!” He pleas, his face lost. “Lads!”

“Please, please, please!” I sob quietly, writhing away from him. “It was so real!”

Zayn and Louis both come barging in, their faces shifting from confusion to urgency quickly. Zayn is pulling out his phone when my vision blurs and I lose consciousness, my head hit with another wave of pain.



The sterile scent of the hospital stirs me awake. I scowl, moving my head sideways tiredly. I squint, blinded by the whiteness of the room. My gaze lands on Harry sat on a chair beside me, his face in his hands. I shut my eyes, taking a deep sigh.

“Soph? Hey love...” Harry says softly, reaching for my hand.

I pull away, looking at him fearfully.

“Sophie I have no idea how bad was your nightmare last night, but I would never hurt you like that,” he starts, pain visible in his green eyes. “I’d never do something so unforgiveable. I love you okay? So much it hurts.”

“What happened?” I mumble, looking around.

“We went to bed last night, we talked a bit and you fell asleep on my chest. But then you started crying and screaming and I wasn’t able to wake you up until you just sat up with a shriek, your ears bleeding,” I notice he’s on the verge of tearing up. “You kept holding your head in pain so I panicked and we called an ambulance and then they took you here.”

I nod.

A doctor walks in seconds later, a notepad in his hands.

“Ah Miss Miller,” He smiles. “You’re awake. We have a couple things to talk about. Mr Styles if you’d please give us a moment?” He says, turning towards him. The curly-haired boy nods.

“I’ll be outside the door,” he mutters. My gaze is fixed on him as he exits the room. How could I dream of him in such a brutal way?!

“So how are you doing this morning Miss Miller?”

“I feel fine,” I respond honestly. “A little confused, but fine.”

“Yes well given lasts nights events, confusion is normal. Though I have to ask: do you take drugs? And be completely honest with me,” he asks gravely.

“No,” I frown. “I don’t take drugs.”

“Are you sure? Because last night you had what we call a severe cluster headache and according to your blood tests, it has most certainly been triggered by the abuse of an uncommon drug called Ayahuasca.”

My eyes grow big.


“Yes. When one’s body tires to evacuate it’s remainants but the brain is too stimulated, it forms clusters of blood near your temples that generate intense pain. That which explains why your ears we’re bleeding.”

“My father forced me to take some,” I admit. He nods, jotting something down on his pad.

“Okay and when was that?”

“About two or three days ago, I think.”

“What was the strong emotion you felt last night?”

“Fear. I had a really bad nightmare,” I admit, shuddering as I recalled the memory. He writes some more on his sheet.

“Is there anything else you want me to know?” he enquires. “About your father maybe?”

“No. I don’t talk to him anymore,” I shake my head. He stares at me longly, waiting to see if I’d change my mind but I don’t.

“Okay then, I’ll send a nurse over to check you out one last time and I guess you’ll be free to go. But if these clusters do happen to resurface, and your ears aren’t bleeding, acetaminophen usually helps.” He advises, patting my leg.

“Thank you,” I nod.

He smiles and writes something else on his notepad before he leaves the room. I step off the bed once he does, sighing and stretching a little.

Harry enters a couple seconds later and I run into his arms, digging my face into his chest and letting his scent fill me completely.

“Fuck Soph I love you so much,” he whispers, hugging me tightly. “And I’m so sorry for being a dick in your nightmare. I swear if I could go beat that Harry up I would.”

 I chuckle softly, looking up at him, saying nothing.

“God I am so, so, so sorry,” he continues, tossing a strand of hair away from my face. My eyes drop to his lips briefly before they latch against mine softly.

“I know,” I sigh.

“And about yesterday―”

“Harry I was so tired yesterday, it’s a wonder why I wasn’t crying for the whole 24 hours,” I reassure.

There’s a short moment of silence where we just stay standing in each other’s arms, feeling peaceful.

“You have to go back to the bed now or the nurse might scold you,” he says, without moving.

“Then let her scold me. I don’t care I just want to be in your arms right now,” I mumble. He bends down and kisses my forehead, his hand latching with mine.

“We have a couple hours until we have to leave for another city, is there something particular you’d like to do?” he asks. “Pick anything you want and I promise we’ll do it.”

I ponder the thought for a moment.

“Where are the others?”

“At a hotel nearby. Paul forced them out of the bus for the time being. He was a little worried when he saw an ambulance stop near the bus.”

“Did he see Anne?”

“Nope. Apparently she was hidden under a mass of sheets on the couch and Liam got to her before she could say anything.”

“Hmm. I want a bubble bath,” I decide finally. “A long, calming bubble bath. I don’t feel like going out.”

“Then a bubble bath you’ll get,” he smiles, bending down to kiss me once more.

Someone clears her throat behind us. The nurse.

“May I ask, Miss Miller, what are you doing out of bed?” she questions scarily, wrinkles deepening on her face. 

“I’m feeling fine so I―”

“I’ll be the judge of that Miss Miller. Please head back to your bed.”

“Told you,” Harry whispers in my ear.

Reluctantly, I move away from Harry and back to the bed.

“Thank you. Now hand me your arm. I’m going to take your pressure.”

I mock smile and extend my arm. She takes it and wraps a manometer around my upper arm. She presses a button and it starts constricting.

“Open your mouth,” she instructs, pulling out a thermometer from her pocket. I do as asked, anxious to get this entire thing over with. I hold it under my tongue, keeping my gaze locked on Harry while the nurse notes the pressure indicated by the manometer. She removes it just as the thermometer beeps.

“Well your temperature and pressure seem fine,” she says, eyeing me warily. “Let’s see about your blood. I’m going to run a blood test,” she turns on her heel, shooting me once last glace before leaving the room. “You better remain exactly where you are young lady,” she warns, her heels clicking as she leaves.

“Harry,” I moan.

“Hmm? You’re not afraid of needles, now are you?” he teases, approaching me.

“No... But I want to cuddle,” I sigh, patting the small place beside me. He chuckles and sits beside me. I sigh as I lay down on his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart.

“I love you,” he says again.

“I love you too,” I respond, smiling.

The nurse comes barging in seconds later.

“Off Mr. Styles!” She says.

Harry shakes his head in disbelief and gets off the bed, leaving her some space.

Thirty minutes later, we can finally head out, my blood tests seeming ‛just about right’. 

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