Prince Harry Ih.sI

7

Zayn puts his hands in front of me, I look at them like I'm stupid because I'm in shock...that he's found me of course. He quickly grabs my hand and starts to lead me back to the fashion show.

We start to walk down the long hallway, Zayn slightly turns to look at me, since I'm a little behind him. He looks at me while he speaks and then glances at our held hands. "The show is almost over, ya know?"

Tama, that fucking scum. "How long has it been?" I ask Zayn, with worry in my voice. What if Harry thinks I intentionally wanted to skip the show? 

"It's come around to a close three hours."

I stop my body and freeze, Zayn stops too. I drop my head and bring my hands to my eyes; I start to cry.

"Gisele? No, sh. Why are you crying?" Zayn asks me. He brings his hands to cup mine.

I leave my hands where they are and speak. "She left me in there for the whole show," I say. Hopefully he could understand me.

"Who?" Zayn questions, leaving his hands on top of mine. But before I could even explain what happened a loud shout comes from beside me,

"Gisele? Get your hands off her!" Harry says, making his way towards us. Zayn and I split apart and I reach my hand out to Harry but he pushes past it, looking at Zayn.

"Harry," Zayn nods.

"What were you doing with her?" Harry demands.

I barge in on the conversation in hopes to calm Harry. "Harry don't be upset, I was -"

"Don't talk Gisele! Did you make her cry? If you made her cry Zayn..." well that worked well.

"Harry I didn't make her cry, I helped the girl get out of a locked bathroom. You need to calm down, mate." Zayn said..

I saw Harry's eyes fume in anger and his fists curl, he pulled on his lips with his teeth and took a step forward to Zayn, I could swear that Harry is going to fight him. But before anything could ascend I put myself between the two.

"Harry, he helped me." I explained.

Harry kept his eyes on Zayn but then looked at me confused, like he didn't even realize I was talking.

"Where were you? I sent four guards in search for you. Tama told me you ran off and I almost went mad... I knew you wouldn't run off."

"Tama locked me in there! She told me to go into the back room to grab her purse and when I wanted to step out the door was locked! She kept me away!"

"I knew you wouldn't run off. I'm sorry baby." Harry said, grabbing my arms and pulling them to wrap around his waist. I let my head rest on his chest and shoulder until I realized he sent guards to look for me.

"Harry, call your guards! Don't let them hurt my family!"

"Shush baby they won't," Harry says in attempt to calm me down, he gently strokes the back of my head and his fingers run through my hair but I don't let his gentleness lose my train of thought. I know his guards too well, they've surely beaten my brother by now.

"Harry please, if they think I'm at home they'll hurt Anthony, and I'm here so please tell them to come back."

Harry sighs and agrees with me. He pulls out his cell phone and walks away talking to some of the authorities to stop the guards for my search. I sigh and wipe the last tear from my eyes. I look a little to my left and see Zayn standing at the end of the hall, looking out a window at the grey sky.

I make my way toward him to give him a sincere apology and a show of gratitude.

"Thanks again Zayn. I'm sorry, it's quite obvious Harry has a bad temper." I shake my head from side to side briefly, realizing that I am apologizing for Harry.

From what I can tell so far Zayn seems like an understandable guy and after all, if he didn't help me out, no one would of. Then again he ignored me earlier and decided not to help me find my seat...

"Don't worry about it. If he gives you trouble, let me know. We haven't always been the nicest to each other but I'd hate to see him hurt you."

"Okay," was all I could say. I bite my lip and a let my eager question slip out my mouth, "Where are you from? You're different from them, even Harry."

"Well, I hope to see you again, Gisele." Zayn said, while smiling and walking past me. He turned around with a smile still on his face, "Prince of District four."

My mouth fell open, I had planned on wishing Zayn a farewell, but I couldn't form words. Zayn was a prince. Are they all fucking princes? No, of course it's the attractive and good ones. The kind and gentle ones. The ones that are impossible to be with. The ones every girl wishes to have met. The ones that care.