It Takes Patience
Chapter 11: Pressured
*Harry’s POV*
After everyone left I got up and headed back to the door to go back inside the building. As soon as I stood to move, I heard footsteps quickly shuffling behind me. Reagan. I stopped in my tracks and felt her bump into my back and it felt as if electricity ran through my body...did she shock me? Before turning around to address her, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to try and calm myself. I didn't want to have to take another aripiprazole today. Besides, having her follow me around can be to my benefit.
“Have you not heard of a personal bubble?” I asked annoyed yet amused at the same time.
“Huh? Oh sorr-” She began to apologize but I cut her off before she could continue .
“Just please pay attention to wear you’re going, please?!. Leave at least ten steps in between glasses.” I said turning back around jogging for the door causing her to pick up her pace to keep up with me.
*Reagan’s POV*
When I bumped into Harry I couldn’t help but catch a whiff of how good he smelled. It almost left me dazed, so when he began talking to me I couldn’t really hear him. I think he’s annoyed that I bumped into him, but it was an accident after all and he’s the one who made the sudden stop. I start to apologize when he cuts me off, calls me glasses, and begins jogging off. The annoyance in eyes was quickly replaced with amusement. There is that whiplash like attitude change again.
“Why do you have to run?” I asked, but he didn’t seem to hear me.
When we got back into the building, Harry stopped to sign himself back in and speak to Paul briefly, then walked past the desk and to an elevator. I followed and stood next to him while we waited for it to come down. An awkward silence fell between us that got worse as we got into the elevator. Harry pressed the button for the 6th floor, having to cross past me allowing me again to see how good he smelled. It was only then that I realized how tall he was. Because I’m only 5’6 he was a good head and shoulders over me. He has to be at least 6 feet. When Harry moved to step back into his corner of the elevator our eyes locked making the now too familiar tightening in my stomach return. He lingered there for a while looked down at my lips then back at my eyes. Oh my God. I could feel my heartbeat quicken and chest rise and fall faster. He finally stepped back and my face flushed.
“Have you ever heard of a personal bubble?” I asked shooting his words to me back at him.
I was annoyed with the way he made me feel and how he got my body to react and I barely even know him. He simply smirked at me and walked out of the elevator doors as they opened. I couldn't be more relieved that we had reached our floor. When we got upstairs we walked to room 612 and I saw name plates next to the door that read ‘L. P. Harris’ and ‘H.E. Styles’. They were silver in color and the names on the plates were actually engraved. He must have been living here for a while. Harry walked into his room and laid back on his bed crossing his arms.
“Are you gonna stand there and awkwardly gawk or are you gonna come in and sit down? Either way is fine with me, but I bet you won’t get much done from out there.” Harry said with one eyebrow raised snapping me back to reality.
I walked into the room and sat at the desk in front of his bed fishing my iPad and keyboard out of my bag. The awkward silence was about to fall again, but I decided to take control of the situation and ask him a few questions to start conversation. I looked up at him to see those beautiful eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“Umm so, how old are you again?” I asked...pitiful, I know. I glanced around on his desk and noticed some pictures of him, his family and his friends taking interest in them for a moment.
A picture is supposed to be worth a thousand words and since I feel like I might have to physically pull an answer out of Harry to gain at least one, I might as well soak in what he could have been like before he became a patient. There are one or two pictures that he's in but that's it. The last one I notice is of his mother and his sister. It looks like someone else was in the photo, but they have since been torn out of it.
“Nineteen” He replied simply then asked me “How old are you? And why did you choose me for this little project?” My eyes snapped up from the picture of his mom and Gemma and a grin was resting comfortably on his face showing dimples.
“I umm...errr...Dr. Baker suggested you so I went for it I guess. And I’m twenty” Liar. He knew it too as he turned his head sideways and gave me a ‘sure she did’ look. I started typing in Google search engine on my iPad about mood swings and began my questioning again.
“What do you do when you don’t have sessions with Dr. Baker? I mean these rooms don’t even have a television in them.”
“That’s what the commons room is for. There’s telly’s and games and other shit down there. Our rooms are mainly used for sleep. But, I generally know how to entertain myself.” He smiled impishly before his last sentence making butterflies jump in my stomach and my cheeks flush.
“You mean Isla?” I asked remembering the first session I sat in with him.
“What?” he replied as if he didn't remember.
“Isla, the girl you got sent to the reflection hall for..” I reminded him with my face glued to my ipad screen. I clicked on a link about re-occurring mood swings and saw that the theory I'd recently developed about Styles might have something to it. ‘BPD: BPD or bipolar disorder is defined by mood swings experienced more frequently and intensely than that of a typical person. Often too overwhelmed by the intensity of their emotional shifts, those who have BPD engage in impulsive behaviors such as deviant sexual behaviors or self-harm’. As I read quietly to myself it felt as if my heart stopped for a second. Did he try to hurt himself?
“Oh yeah sometimes her... What are you doing?” Harry asked and I quickly glanced up at him then put my eyes back on the screen.
“Oh um..just taking notes.” I replied causing Harry to roll his eyes and nod, accustomed to people taking notes on him and buying my lie.
My eyes continue to skim across the screen before I ask Harry another question.
"Do you like it here?"
"Do I like it, in a psych ward? What kind of question is that?" He spoke slowly and then furrowed his eyebrows causing my face to flush.
"I didn't mean it that way-"
"Then how'd you mean it?"
"I meant," I pause as I read another fact: 'BPD usually begins in late adolescence, often appearing as depression during the teen years. Men tend to begin with a manic episode.'
Harry sighs loudly breaking my focus. His eyebrows lift in annoyance and his eyes widen before he speaks.
"You meant?! Finish your sentence! I bloody hate it when people stop talking mid-fucking sentence. It's one of my biggest pet peeves....That and that time when I wasn't allowed to have shoe stringsfor those first two months when I got here."
I look over at Harry confused and his mouth turns slightly at the corners before he presses it into a hard line. Humor is still clear in his eyes however.
"I thought that would catch your attention. You meant?"
"I meant do you like the staff? Do they treat you right, aside from Dr. Baker that is?" As soon as I ask the question my eyes go back to my screen and I draw Harry's curiosity once again.
"You're not taking notes."
"I am." I glance at him quickly and then back down to the article that gives me more information on my hunch when Harry stands from his bed and snatches my iPad from me.
“What are you doing?! You can’t read that! And you don’t just take peoples shit! Give it back!” I yelled angrily trying to reach the tablet, but he was just too tall. Harry looked at the screen and furrowed his eyebrows. Oh no, what if that’s not what’s wrong with him and I’ve offended him? I thought for sure he was going to chew my head off, but he only asked what my password was. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I grasped that the screen had locked.
I pushed him causing him to lose his balance and fall back onto his bed, but because he grabbed my wrist I fell with him landing on top of him. Our eyes locked again and this time was more intense than the elevator. As I willed myself to pull away from him, his grasp tightened on my wrist and before I knew it his lips had crashed onto mine. I didn’t stop him. If I'm being honest with myself, after all of these days of watching Harry in session when he talked, I had wondered what his lips would feel like if they were ever pressed to mine.
Harry broke the kiss and pulled a weird face before handing my iPad back to me, pushing me off of him and leaving out of the room. I sat there in shock and though his lips were gone, I could still feel the pressure there as if they weren’t.
After everyone left I got up and headed back to the door to go back inside the building. As soon as I stood to move, I heard footsteps quickly shuffling behind me. Reagan. I stopped in my tracks and felt her bump into my back and it felt as if electricity ran through my body...did she shock me? Before turning around to address her, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to try and calm myself. I didn't want to have to take another aripiprazole today. Besides, having her follow me around can be to my benefit.
“Have you not heard of a personal bubble?” I asked annoyed yet amused at the same time.
“Huh? Oh sorr-” She began to apologize but I cut her off before she could continue .
“Just please pay attention to wear you’re going, please?!. Leave at least ten steps in between glasses.” I said turning back around jogging for the door causing her to pick up her pace to keep up with me.
*Reagan’s POV*
When I bumped into Harry I couldn’t help but catch a whiff of how good he smelled. It almost left me dazed, so when he began talking to me I couldn’t really hear him. I think he’s annoyed that I bumped into him, but it was an accident after all and he’s the one who made the sudden stop. I start to apologize when he cuts me off, calls me glasses, and begins jogging off. The annoyance in eyes was quickly replaced with amusement. There is that whiplash like attitude change again.
“Why do you have to run?” I asked, but he didn’t seem to hear me.
When we got back into the building, Harry stopped to sign himself back in and speak to Paul briefly, then walked past the desk and to an elevator. I followed and stood next to him while we waited for it to come down. An awkward silence fell between us that got worse as we got into the elevator. Harry pressed the button for the 6th floor, having to cross past me allowing me again to see how good he smelled. It was only then that I realized how tall he was. Because I’m only 5’6 he was a good head and shoulders over me. He has to be at least 6 feet. When Harry moved to step back into his corner of the elevator our eyes locked making the now too familiar tightening in my stomach return. He lingered there for a while looked down at my lips then back at my eyes. Oh my God. I could feel my heartbeat quicken and chest rise and fall faster. He finally stepped back and my face flushed.
“Have you ever heard of a personal bubble?” I asked shooting his words to me back at him.
I was annoyed with the way he made me feel and how he got my body to react and I barely even know him. He simply smirked at me and walked out of the elevator doors as they opened. I couldn't be more relieved that we had reached our floor. When we got upstairs we walked to room 612 and I saw name plates next to the door that read ‘L. P. Harris’ and ‘H.E. Styles’. They were silver in color and the names on the plates were actually engraved. He must have been living here for a while. Harry walked into his room and laid back on his bed crossing his arms.
“Are you gonna stand there and awkwardly gawk or are you gonna come in and sit down? Either way is fine with me, but I bet you won’t get much done from out there.” Harry said with one eyebrow raised snapping me back to reality.
I walked into the room and sat at the desk in front of his bed fishing my iPad and keyboard out of my bag. The awkward silence was about to fall again, but I decided to take control of the situation and ask him a few questions to start conversation. I looked up at him to see those beautiful eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“Umm so, how old are you again?” I asked...pitiful, I know. I glanced around on his desk and noticed some pictures of him, his family and his friends taking interest in them for a moment.
A picture is supposed to be worth a thousand words and since I feel like I might have to physically pull an answer out of Harry to gain at least one, I might as well soak in what he could have been like before he became a patient. There are one or two pictures that he's in but that's it. The last one I notice is of his mother and his sister. It looks like someone else was in the photo, but they have since been torn out of it.
“Nineteen” He replied simply then asked me “How old are you? And why did you choose me for this little project?” My eyes snapped up from the picture of his mom and Gemma and a grin was resting comfortably on his face showing dimples.
“I umm...errr...Dr. Baker suggested you so I went for it I guess. And I’m twenty” Liar. He knew it too as he turned his head sideways and gave me a ‘sure she did’ look. I started typing in Google search engine on my iPad about mood swings and began my questioning again.
“What do you do when you don’t have sessions with Dr. Baker? I mean these rooms don’t even have a television in them.”
“That’s what the commons room is for. There’s telly’s and games and other shit down there. Our rooms are mainly used for sleep. But, I generally know how to entertain myself.” He smiled impishly before his last sentence making butterflies jump in my stomach and my cheeks flush.
“You mean Isla?” I asked remembering the first session I sat in with him.
“What?” he replied as if he didn't remember.
“Isla, the girl you got sent to the reflection hall for..” I reminded him with my face glued to my ipad screen. I clicked on a link about re-occurring mood swings and saw that the theory I'd recently developed about Styles might have something to it. ‘BPD: BPD or bipolar disorder is defined by mood swings experienced more frequently and intensely than that of a typical person. Often too overwhelmed by the intensity of their emotional shifts, those who have BPD engage in impulsive behaviors such as deviant sexual behaviors or self-harm’. As I read quietly to myself it felt as if my heart stopped for a second. Did he try to hurt himself?
“Oh yeah sometimes her... What are you doing?” Harry asked and I quickly glanced up at him then put my eyes back on the screen.
“Oh um..just taking notes.” I replied causing Harry to roll his eyes and nod, accustomed to people taking notes on him and buying my lie.
My eyes continue to skim across the screen before I ask Harry another question.
"Do you like it here?"
"Do I like it, in a psych ward? What kind of question is that?" He spoke slowly and then furrowed his eyebrows causing my face to flush.
"I didn't mean it that way-"
"Then how'd you mean it?"
"I meant," I pause as I read another fact: 'BPD usually begins in late adolescence, often appearing as depression during the teen years. Men tend to begin with a manic episode.'
Harry sighs loudly breaking my focus. His eyebrows lift in annoyance and his eyes widen before he speaks.
"You meant?! Finish your sentence! I bloody hate it when people stop talking mid-fucking sentence. It's one of my biggest pet peeves....That and that time when I wasn't allowed to have shoe stringsfor those first two months when I got here."
I look over at Harry confused and his mouth turns slightly at the corners before he presses it into a hard line. Humor is still clear in his eyes however.
"I thought that would catch your attention. You meant?"
"I meant do you like the staff? Do they treat you right, aside from Dr. Baker that is?" As soon as I ask the question my eyes go back to my screen and I draw Harry's curiosity once again.
"You're not taking notes."
"I am." I glance at him quickly and then back down to the article that gives me more information on my hunch when Harry stands from his bed and snatches my iPad from me.
“What are you doing?! You can’t read that! And you don’t just take peoples shit! Give it back!” I yelled angrily trying to reach the tablet, but he was just too tall. Harry looked at the screen and furrowed his eyebrows. Oh no, what if that’s not what’s wrong with him and I’ve offended him? I thought for sure he was going to chew my head off, but he only asked what my password was. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I grasped that the screen had locked.
I pushed him causing him to lose his balance and fall back onto his bed, but because he grabbed my wrist I fell with him landing on top of him. Our eyes locked again and this time was more intense than the elevator. As I willed myself to pull away from him, his grasp tightened on my wrist and before I knew it his lips had crashed onto mine. I didn’t stop him. If I'm being honest with myself, after all of these days of watching Harry in session when he talked, I had wondered what his lips would feel like if they were ever pressed to mine.
Harry broke the kiss and pulled a weird face before handing my iPad back to me, pushing me off of him and leaving out of the room. I sat there in shock and though his lips were gone, I could still feel the pressure there as if they weren’t.
Notes
This chapter is a bit longer but it was important what do you think? Comment and subscribe. Love you for reading! xx
I have read this story loads of times just wish you had finished it it is absolutely amazing. So so good
8/18/18