Obsessed *Editing*

She got away, but she wasn't safe. He would come back for her. No one ever got away from him


39. 38

*Brigh’s POV*

                “Harry?” I whined, laying my head on his shoulder. We were in our room lying on the bed, just enjoying each other’s presence. 

                “Yeah babe?” He looked at me. I leaned toward him, putting my lips close to his ear.

                “Can you please go get me some pads? Please? I’m all out and I’m having cramps.” I refused to let my embarrassment show there. It’s just Harry. He pulled away with wide eyes.

                “Hell no, that’s no job for a man,” he said, and raised his arm to flex his bicep. I scoffed and poked his stomach.

                “Would you rather me get them? And be all alone since it’s ‘too hard’ for you. I will gladly do it.” I teased. Surely that would get him. Maybe.

                Harry sighed and stared at me with an unreadable expression. I stared right back.


                “You’re lucky I like you, Nixon,” Harry stated, quite seriously I might add and rolled off the bed. I grinned.

                “See! This is why you are probably the best boyfriend in the world,”

                “Probably? How about I am the best boyfriend in the world?” He laughed. I giggled as he shoved his sock covered feet into the first pair of shoes he saw; which were flip flops.

                “Looking sexy, Styles,” I teased, shooting a wink in his direction.

                “I know right? I think I might actually have a modeling career in the future. What do you think?” He asked and struck a pose, jutting his hip out and placing both hands on his sides. I wolf whistled.

                “Brilliant! Maybe you should become a stripper. Wait! I have a twenty in my bag,” I laughed loudly. Harry rolled his eyes and reached over to kiss my cheek.

                “Be right back, beautiful.” He winked and strolled out the door.

                “You’re just saying that!” I yelled after him. I heard his laugh travel up the stairs and wrap around me like a warm blanket.

                “Hurry! I’m in so much pain!” I shouted dramatically, stretching out on the bed. “I don’t know how long I can last!”

                “I’m going woman! Don’t die on me!” He shouted from downstairs. Don’t die on me. Isn’t that kind of ironic? I laughed to myself. I’m guessing Harry caught onto that and quickly yelled a: “Ignore that last part.” When he left, a fresh wave of pain rolled over my abdomen. I groaned and pressed my hands firmly to my stomach.

                “Fuck you,” I mumbled to my stomach and rolled off the bed to get myself an ice pack. I slowly descended my way downstairs, towards the kitchen. I turned on the T.V. on my way just to have a little background noise. While I pressed the pack to my lower stomach, I began to think about last night.

                The news of the T.V.

                The letter.

                Harry’s name and mine written in blood on a piece of paper.

                What kind of sick joke was this? No, better question: what kind of person is deranged enough to kill those girls and write pathetic, disturbing letters in blood? Fucking blood. Obviously, that letter was nothing but bullshit… but was it? Was it really? What do I really know about Harry’s past?

                I thought back to one of our dates. He had told me so little about his family, but not where he came from or what his parents’ names were or if he had any brothers or sisters. Is that bad? I mean, I know what happened to his parents was so horrible so maybe that was why he didn’t like talking about them. Was it possible that Harry joined the military? That would somewhat explain if he had killed people, but honestly? I couldn’t see him doing that.

                And if he was in the military, wouldn’t he have his uniform with him for memories or whatever? Pictures? Metals? Weapons?

                The more I thought about it, the more worried I became. I didn’t know anything about him. Little things, yeah, but overall? Nothing. The thought of going through his stuff flicked through my mind, but with what happened last time, I don’t know. It wasn’t my business or right to go through his private stuff without permission. But….

                “Oh fuck it. I’m going to hell anyway,” I mumbled to myself. I tossed my ice pack back into the freezer and marched upstairs into our room. He is so going to kill me, I thought, biting my lip. Where do I start?

                 I tentatively sat down next to his biggest suitcase and unzipped it. Okay, if I was going to do this then I had to be quick. I pushed the negative thoughts to the back of my mind and pulled out all of his clothes. Which were folded. I put the folded clothing in a neat-ish stack beside me and checked every pocket and cranny of his suitcase, finding nothing but rubbish, crisped pound notes and some coins.

                Shit. I placed all his clothes back into his suitcase and zipped it shut. I moved onto the one next t, skipping over the little messenger bag shoved under his other luggage. I dug through it and found the same thing; rubbish and loose change. I was about ready to quit when something caught my eye. It was a smear of something red? Yeah, definitely something red was smeared on his little messenger bag. I picked it up.

                The bag felt heavy in my hands, like it was full of rocks, not clothes or even books. I looked on the front. A jagged line of red streaked along the side. Wine? Marker? I quickly unzipped it and dug around inside. My hand caught hold on something hard and smooth, like metal. I pulled it out swiftly. It was a silver metal box, it was flat and long with a pad lock on the front. I ran my finger over the key hole with a frown.

                “What is in here?” I asked aloud. Does Harry have the key or did he put it somewhere? I think about all of the necklaces and bracelets he wears. He has a few rings he always wears and a cross necklace, that’s it. No key. Unless he has it in his pocket or someplace else. Downstairs, the sound of the door opening and closing sends me into panic mode.

                “Brigh? I’m back,” Harry’s slow, deep voice yelled.

                “Upstairs!” I yelled back subliminally. I slapped my forehead. “You big fat idiot,” I mumbled to myself and hurried to shove everything back into his bag as neatly as I could. His footsteps were coming closer and closer.  Now they were coming up the stairs. Oh fuck, the box. I snatched it off the floor and quickly shoved it under my pillow. I jumped onto the bed and shimmied under the covers, trying to look like nothing happened. I smoothed down my hair and concentrated on calming my pounding heart.

                “The lady recommended the ultra-adsorbent ones so I got you those. God, you should have seen the strange look she gave me,” Harry rambled, walking into the room with a wide, beautiful smile. It almost made me forget about the locked box underneath my pillow.

                “That was quick,” I observed, casually making sure he couldn’t see the box. Harry shrugged and sat down on the bed next to me, handing me the plastic bag.

                “The store is just a few miles down the road.”

                I nodded. “Thank you so much Harry,” Okay, I needed to get him out of the room so I could hide the box in a better spot.

                “You’re welcome babe. Need anything else? I could make some dinner?” Harry offered. Perfect.

                “Dinner sounds nice,” I smiled.

                “Anything you want?”

                “I don’t care. Whatever you want since you’re going to be making it,” I laughed. He eyed me curiously. I swallowed, suddenly nervous.

                “Okay… are you alright? You look pale,”

                “Yeah,” I said quickly. “Cramps are a bitch, I tell you what.”

                Harry chuckled and stood up. “What is it that people say? ‘Beauty is pain’?”

                This time, I laugh genuinely. “Ha! There’s nothing beautiful about being on your period, Harry.”

                “Is there anything I can get you? I think I saw some Pamprin downstairs,” he asked, coming over to me and leaning over me, both his hands on either side of my head. His warm fruity breath hit my face.

                “Did you have a piece of my gum?” I asked slightly breathless. Having him this close intoxicated me. The smell of his aftershave and cologne had me just… ugh.

                “Maybe I did maybe I didn’t,” he smirked. I forgot about the object under my pillow as I gazed at his plump pink lips.

                “I’d so jump you right now if I wasn’t possibly on my period.” I admitted. I felt his legs press up against mine. I squeezed my thighs together tightly.

                “Damn,” he mumbled. I moaned as his lips pressed down softly on my neck, just where my neck meets my shoulder. “We can still have a bit of fun can’t we?”

                I bite my lip at his seductive tone. He moved his lips along my jaw, my collarbones and pulled down my t-shirt down a few inches to kiss down the valley of my breasts. I forgot about that fact that I know nothing about him, I forgot about the letter and everything else that was messed up in our lives.

                “N-no we can’t. I need to...” I trailed off and pointed to the box of pads. Unless he wants blood everywhere, I needed to put one on.  Harry pulled back and planted a hard kiss to my lips that left my mind spinning.

                “Lame,” he teased and climbed off me. I stood up too and placed the box of pads under my arm.

                “Hey! It’s not my fault that once a month blood likes to leak out of my vag-“

                “Do not finish that sentence!” Harry interrupted, his nose crinkled. I laughed.

                “You sure? Because I can totally tell you why blood-“

                “No! Stop talking!” he yelled and sprinted out the door and down the stairs. I ran to the door.

                “Wait! Where are you going?!” I was laughing so hard, the pain in my sides where making it a little difficult to breath so I just stood there holding my sides while I laughed heavily. Totally attractive. Once I sobered, my smile disappeared. I remembered the mysterious silver box under my pillow. I picked it up and locked myself in the bathroom.  Where to put it…

                I looked around the bathroom. There were a few painting and normal everyday bathroom stuff. Then an idea struck me. I could put the box behind one of the paintings. I use to do it all the time when I had a diary and I didn’t want anyone to find it. The box was flat enough to fit under the painting so it wouldn’t stick out, thankfully. I made sure it stayed put before doing my business, washing my hands and wandering downstairs with a frown and a clouded mind.


Here's chapter 38 sorry it's taken so long we've been really busy lately as usual and as usual we'll try to update more frequently -Hunter

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