All You Had To Do Was Stay

8.The Black & White Girl

"  Darling, for you to feel this sad
   You must have once felt so happy,
   And you will find that again
And it will be beautiful.  " -E.K., Via Tumblr
__________

"Once upon a time, there was a little girl..."

The story as old as the seas, the Red Riding Hood. The last thing I expected Darren to be doing is reading a children's tale, but it doesn't seem far fetched. I sit on the opposite metallic bench, not interrupting his reading session. Not that he's that busy in a prison cell, but hey, he gained my respect for him. Last talk was actually helpful...sort of? But yeah, it was great.

I nearly zoned out a few times, my mind going to all the random places and avoiding last week's particular event. I kept focusing on the little details of the cell, stains that are yet to be scrubbed, the weird metallic bloody smell, dull shimmering light that doesn't seem to get stronger nor dimmer. My mind listened to the story every now and then, not really interested, until Darren reached the last chapter, which happened to be twisted from the one I knew since my childhood.

The wolf ate the Grandma, then the granddaughter.

Huh, lovely.

He closes his book, setting it beside him. A few moments of silence passes while I stare at his unchanged appearance. "Hello, Mr Styles." He speaks up after a few moments.

I shrug and stand on my feet, my hand searching in my coat. "Thought we're past formalities, Darren." I remark quietly, walking over to him with the photo. He doesn't seem to listen as he shifts from his lying position to sitting cross-legged legged.

He takes the photograph from my hand. "Ah, yes. The pretty little ballerina. How is she related to your situation, though?" He looks at me with a suspicious brow raised.

Make up something, quick. My eyes dart to the wall behind him, then remember something. "She was in a picture with Lawrence, she works with him." I think I sound convincing.

Daren stares at it with a blank expression, then starts chuckling. "Not everyone related to the ones involved are a part of this, Mr Styles." He looks at me with an expectant look. "And I think you you know that."

I shrug. He's good. "Doesn't mean she doesn't know anything." I retilate.

He shakes his head. "You may be dead, but you're a terrible, terrible liar Mr Styles." My eyes widen, is he serious? "Now, tell me what you want to know about Ms Swift."

"That's her last name?" I raise a brow.

"Mhm." He leans back against the wall.

I'd like to think that sometimes I see things beyond what people see on the rough surface. But now, the tables turned. Daren sees right through the surface of my lies and he's waiting for me to come clean, he's making it fucking obvious too with the ridiculous facial expression he's wearing.

"What exactly does she do? Other than dancing." I cross my arms and frown in interest.

"Not that I stalked her..." he snorts at his own joke. "Well, she sings too. Writes songs. Composes pieces for the ballet acts. That's pretty much it."

She sings and writes...

I guess I'll have to look into it from that side. The ballerina may dance her sorrows away, but she also sings and writes songs. "Mr Styles?" How come I never heard of her? She's got the looks, and her dancing is exceptionally astounding from what I remember in her studio.

" Harry?"

I look at him slowly, not realising I zoned out on him until now. "Yes?" I awkwardly speak up.