CHARLOTTE'S POV
THE NEXT DAY...

After Harry's departure and venture back to his room, I left the workplace and went home. Thinking over yesterday's events. Rain, broken phone, new patient, mind molested. Yesterday hasn't been the worst day of my life... yet. The December air was plenty throughout the whole facility since the windows are always opened and sent even worse goosebumps down my arms. My whole day consisted of peeling the paper off my water bottle and watching everyone scurry to their places. When finally deciding to leave my place next to Liz, I went to the cafeteria where I spotted Harry again. When arriving to his table, I noticed he had the jumpsuit on and his precious items were missing. Including his rings and necklaces. At least his hands are no longer in handcuffs. He looked up at me from a book, is everyone here reading now?

"Charlotte," he seemed upset with me for some reason.

"Afternoon, Harry. How do you feel?"

"Shit," he lied. Maybe he was telling the truth but I couldn't tell by looking at him that he felt like the vulgar adjective. Although his face was stuffed in the book, I could at least see the growing bags under his eyes and dark circles. He is telling the truth. Is it sad that I have to analyse things just to see if the new addition was lying or not? "Can you not stare at me like that? We all know you have an attraction towards me," he wasn't quiet nor was he loud but I could tell a few of the people around us heard him.

"Could you talk quieter? If anyone suspected anything my ass would be hanging on Hannigan's file cabinet." He scoffed at my exaggeration. "What are you reading?"

He used his left hand to pull his hair upward, forming a quiff and used a lighter as a bookmark, "It's about an annoying front desk lady slash therapist who can't mind her own fucking business. Any other questions I can answer for you, Charlotte?" I shook my head, "Good," he almost picked his book back up. Almost. "Play a game with me." I hadn't realized how awkward I looked trailing behind a mental patient until everyone started staring. It didn't seem to bother Harry, he was used to it. The book must not have belonged to him because he left it on the corner table, the table no one goes to because of Navarro's newest guest. After he pulled out a deck of cards, we sat down and everyone lost interest. "I don't really want to play a game, I just want to talk. Let's talk about how you probably got shipped here by your rich parents and drive here everyday in your Porche so you can 'give back' to those in need," the sudden mood change had caught me of guard along with the wrong assumption.

"Actually, my parents died in a boating incident when I was nine. Dad was a drunk and drove the boat himself despite my mother's protests and crashed the boat. I made it out. It was supposed to be my birthday present, a boat ride. Anyway, I was taken in by my grandparents and they kicked me out when they found out what I wanted to do for a living. So I'm stuck here with a shitty apartment that I pay for from this job and walking everywhere because although I have enough money to pay for a home and food, I don't have the money to pay for a car. Not yet at least," my confession was something I'd only told Liz and now, I'd told Harry and Ms. Hannigan considering she has eyes like a hawk and ears like a dog.

"Sorry, Charlotte. I had no idea," I sat back in the chair and pondered over his apology.

"I'll see you in an hour, Harry. Don't be late," I scooted the chair out of its place and walked out of the cafeteria and back to where Liz was. "Hey, Liz."

"Charlotte! Where have you been? I've needed you to run down to the copy room a million times this morning while I was with Ms. Hannigan but no, you up and disappear."

"Well, Liz, if you stopped reading that damned book every once in a while," I snatched it from her hands, "maybe you'd have the papers done your damn self."

Earth was becoming infuriating. Wandering around the building was I could do to get away from the trouble I'd caused with Liz and the awkwardness with Harry. Despite the fact I wasn't supposed to, I wandered up to Ward C where the world's most insane people go. Rumour has it that there's a man named Jonathan Nicks that murdered fifty women, one for each state in America and threw them in the state that he thought they belonged in. A girl named Caroline was placed in North Carolina because he guessed North Carolina was older than South Carolina. The other Caroline was younger and placed in South Carolina because of his assumption. At first, it didn't make sense when Liz was explaining it but I eventually caught on.
Ward C was a strange place with hefty guards. Each one bigger and tougher than the last and it intimidated people who weren't used to such security.

An hour had passed and had I not hurried, I would have been late to Harry's therapy session. "You're late," I hadn't realized the time upstairs was a bit off.

My hand pressed on my soft, black chair before I noticed something was missing, "Give it back." He sighed before putting the picture frame back. It was of my parents, when everything was all okay. I thought of Frankie then, how he must miss me, "Sorry. I'm a little out of it," I said, finally taking my seat. My notepad was out already and a pen was set there next to it, I looked up at Harry and he gave me a slight smile.

"I'm a dick but I really do feel bad for what I said," he seemed sincere but I still don't know much about him causing me to not believe most of what he said. Harry noticed that I'd brushed off his apology by acting like he'd never apologized and let it go.

"Let's start with my many questions," my pen snapped when I pushed it against the pad to expose the ink stick, "how was your day, How do you feel, and what did you eat at lunch?"

"Okay," he thought over the answered for a second and pondered how smart he should be with me, "terrible, like shit, and nothing. Who really eats that shit?" I shook my head and noted his dislike of the cafeteria food.

"Let's talk about your family. Do you have any siblings?" I'd looked through his files but only ones related to family, Ms. Hannigan is allowed the rest.

"I have a sister, Gemma. Mum and Dad are divorced but my mum got remarried to a nice lad named Robin. Gemma recently graduated from university. Any more questions about my family?" I was surprised about his openness, "I'm only sharing this with you because you told me your life story," he pinched his lip with his index finger and thumb. The way he observed me wasn't in the least bit professional but I didn't stop him. I admired the way he sort of stared into me, having me release all of my feelings and him absorb them into his eyes.

After clearing my throat, I noticed the eaten up time from me being late and talking, "Right. So, it's that time again," I got up and walked over to the door and opened it for him. He looked at me for a second before slowly walked out, leaving a trail of wonders.

---

"How's the murderer?" she asked that question as if Harry was the only murderer in the whole building as I returned from the session.

"He's okay," I breathed out. Liz was only half done with her book and explained to me that the woman had just revealed a large secret and the killer apparently wasn't taking it very well. What she described as angry I imagined as livid. My work day along with Liz's was over and I couldn't be happier. Samuel -one of the assistants to Ms. Hannigan- came over to me in a rush. His hair was flying behind him and his five o'clock shadow was turning into a beard. Samuel has always been a rather handsome lad to me but now that a new patient has arrived, I think he's a little under my scale. I gladly pretended not to see him and continued packing up my bag that contained my chart of Harry's progression in the past two days, my new and very stupid cell phone, my notes on Harry, and what was left of my life, so basically nothing. Tapping on my should repeated itself until I sighed and looked at the figure that was slightly shorter than Harry's.

"Charlotte. Whew, a long run that was. Anyway," he was rushing his words and standing awkwardly, "I was wondering if you'd maybe - I don't know - like to go to the carnival Saturday? It's fine if you don't want to but I was just wondering." Poor guy.

While zipping my bag up I answered the near sweaty fellow, "I'd love to Samuel but I'm going to have to kindly decline your offer. I'm sorry, have a nice day though," I linked arms with Liz and didn't look back knowing that I'd be looking back at a crushed man. Liz was thankfully my room mate and with both of our income combined, we could make rent and then some. Meaning more left over money for groceries, personal luxuries, and the thing close to the top of my list; a car. I could smell the rain coming on, making Liz close her book that she was attempting to read while we walked home and put the hard, plastic cover over her head to prepare. Again, I wasn't prepared for the oncoming storm so I made her run with me down the back alley, across the street, down about two blocks, and to the right to our small apartment.

When walking in, I realized, yet again, how not-homey this place is. There's plenty of cracks in the walls and constant shouting from the neighbour downstairs who think he's using his indoor voice. Liz had helped me try and spruce up the place but it only hid a bit of the poor excuse of a living space. When we first moved here, we had to pay a heaping amount of money to get the floor replaced due to the rotting, creaking, and mice hiding in the floor boards. Home sweet home. She laid on the couch and started taking out today's hairstyle, a simple ponytail. "What's for dinner tonight?" I asked, knowing that it'd be take-out.

She picked a few menus off of the coffee table we found in some Salvation Army down the road, "Eh, we have Chinese, Mexican, or fish. Doesn't matter, whatever we choose is going to end up tasting like shit," she had a point there. The food around here matched the living qualities; terrible. It's always been like that. Quality of the food depends on the quality of the neighbourhood.

I sat next to her and kicked off my torture system, heels. "Was I rude when I turned down Samuel?" For some odd reason I cared for the poor guy's feelings. Although I couldn't care enough to know anything about him due to the fact that he might as well be the most awkward employee at Navarro. Sure, he's cute as a button and sweet as pie but the way he stands, walks, and talks makes you want to turn the other direction in pure fright almost. His awkwardness used to be cute but shows just how long it's been since he's had a girlfriend. Or been on a date. Maybe even in association with the female gender other than his mother.

"It wasn't rude it was just - I don't know, rushed. Like you wanted to get the quickest way out of the situation. Every time you're at lunch with the patients or in session with Harry he always comes to me and asks how you're doing what you're doing that day. It's like he had planned to ask you out for a while and when he did, you crushed it and ran out," she made a smirking face with a sad expression and got up from the seat to order Chinese. Thinking about it, I realized that I might have crushed the dream date of a poor soul. That's why I'm making it my soul mission to accept the date tomorrow, for pity.

---

"Liz! The door- you know what, I'll get it," I said, watching Liz just lay on the couch browsing her cell phone while the doorbell constantly rang. I answered it to a familiar looking girl. Her hair was fishtailed into a brain on the side and blonde, really blonde. She had dimples that didn't show when she smiled -because she didn't smile- but when she made this face where her lips stretched out in impatience for me to pay.

"Well, are you going to pay or not, miss?"

"D - do you know a Harry? Harry Styles?" That's not a question that you ask a complete stranger but it seemed reasonable since she seemed to resemble the curly-haired serial killer.

She shifted her weight to her right foot, "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Who's asking?"

"His therapist," she seemed protective of her identity. I would be too, people at your brother's throat for murders and rapes could spread to your family. She shook her head and handed over the food, not even bothering to take the money out of my sweaty hand. I set the food gently on the counter for Liz to soon smell and devour and took the receipt into my room. I knew she looked familiar. Served by: Gemma Styles. Harry's sister.

Notes

Okay sorry for not updating but it's the holidays and all. Can I just say that uhh my best friend just did a soul mate writing thing and it said that my crush is my soul mate. *Dies* ugh, life is great. Love you bye.