Hiding In Plain Sight ~Harry Styles~

Harry Edward Styles. A young but yet London's most wanted criminal. He's the master of escape. But what would happen if Harry runs out of place to hide? Could he possibly hide in someone's house, maybe? I know it sounds weird and creep but its part of his plan. Perhaps Skye Hayes house? She could be his only ticket on hiding.

But what would happen if Skye found out who Harry is? Would she turn him in or will she keep his identity a secret? Read to find out...
A/N: Hope you guys will enjoy this movellas! Remember, this is originally my ideas. Please do not copy. All rights are reserved to Luv_Potatoes ©
Thank you! ♥


5. Chapter 5.

*Harry's POV*

'I was sitting on the couch, watching a marathon of my favorite show. And Skye in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes. Since it was part of our agreement that I cook and she cleans, then it switches back and forth every night.

*Ding dong*

"I'll get it!" Skye says and walks over to the door. She drys her hands on a piece of clothe and opens the door. There stood a small group of polices. "How may I help you guys?" She asked giving them a confused look. "May we come inside?" One asked, probably the leader. "Um. I don't know if that's-" Skye began to say but one officer cut her off. "There he is. Get him!". No. This can't happen now! But how do they know I'm here?!

Before I could think of anything else, the group of cops pushed Skye aside and rushed over to me. Some had guns in their hands, threatening to shoot if I don't listen or follow their commands. Some tackled me to the ground before I knew it. I looked up Skye and saw her face was mixed with shock, confusion, and fear. I try to fight back but it was no use. There's too many of them. One tazed my right leg so I couldn't run away. I screamed in pain. They picked me up from the ground and dragged me out the house and into the police car. Mys vision was get blurry. But enough so that I could see what was happen the next few seconds.

Last thing I saw happened was the cops attracting a pair of handcuffs around Skye's wrist. As she struggles to get loose from their grip. Then I blacked out.'

I woke up with a sharp gasp of air as I quickly sat up in bed. It was just a dream. Well, more like a nightmare. I felt beads of sweat drips downs from my forehead and onto my now soaking shirt. Turning my head, I looked out the window and heard thunder, adding on with a strike of lightning across the dark, clouded sky. I rubbed my face and also felt it wet. Tears? Or is it sweat?

I looked aside at the small clock that reads 4:51 AM. I groaned but my throat was too dry. I stood up, slipping the damp shirt over my head and threw it across the room. It was actually supposed to land in the laundry basket that kept all my dirty clothes for later washing but I missed and too lazy to go across the room and pick it up.

Walking out the room, I head towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. Once I entered the kitchen, I spotted Skye sipping a cup of warm tea, I'm guessing. She turned around at the sound of my foot steps. Her eyes widen at the sight of me shirtless, probably.

"Like what you see?" I interrupted her 'moment' and smirked. "Not at all" She rolls her eyes and placed the empty mug in the sink. "Why are you up so early?" I asked. "Nightmare" Skye shrugs. "About?". "Little kids chasing after me thinking I was the ice cream man". "Ohh spooky" I teased. "Hey. It was terrible! You don't know how it felt like being chased by evil little kids wanting ice cream. And probably my living soul!" She protested. I shook my head and let out a small laugh.

Reaching over in the cupboards, I pulled out a cup and filled it with water. "What about you?" She asked. "Nightmare" I muffled into the cup. "About?".

Should tell her? Or not? My dream could lead up to her knowing my identity. I must not say anything. "Its not important. Don't worry about it" I lied. Ugh lies.

She gave me an unconvincing look. "Why? Are you scared that your dreams would haunt you for the rest of your life span?" Skye chuckled. "Probably" I said honestly. She let's out a low laugh before walking out the kitchen and towards the stairs that led to the second floor.

"Imma go to bed. You coming?" She asked. "No, I'll stay here a bit. Then go to bed" I say. She nods before climbing the stairs and enters her bedroom while closing the door.

I sigh as I walked into the living room and turned on the telly. I put the volume on low so I don't disturb Skye.

The bright screen flashed before my eyes, blinding me with colors of light. I flip over towards the news and the lady was talking about her report.

"Two guys by the names on Morgan and Roger reported that Harry Styles is still here in London, England. They said that they encountered him just a few hours ago in an alleyway downtown. The men say that Harry said death threats to them if they turn him in. Then beat them up before running off. The two men couldn't tell where he was running but it could be his new hide out. Remember, please contact us if you've seen him...." The woman goes on and on about 'visiting' their website and stuff like that.

But seriously. I can't believe those bastards. Those idiots! Those motherf- "okay, calm down Harry. Take a chill pill bro!" My conscience interrupted my thoughts.

Ugh. I can't believe those morons! I warn them to back off and they turned their backs on me and report about our 'incident'. They are so going to get their arse beated.

I turned the TV off and set the remote down on the coffee table. I quietly walk to my room and shut the door behind me. Jumping into bed, I pulled the cover over me and closed my eyes. Hoping the nightmare would disappear from my mind and leave my memory. But it wouldn't.

The image of me being seated in the back of the police car flashed through my head. Seeing Skye shocked with confusion.

I squeeze my eyes as tight as possible. Making the metal image go away. But nothing. Still there. Scarred in my brain. Where it was one dream I will never forget.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...