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        note// i don't use harry's point of view because that would give away a lot of the story. so sorry. i know you guys want to hear his point of view, but much of the story progresses because of harry's mysterious character. you'll thank me later for it <3

        Brazil. I should have seen it coming. One of the most beautiful places of them all, and I would be spending time here with Harry. Not necessarily him, because he will most likely be working and taking me out when it's absolutely essential. I don't know whether to be relieved or paranoid. However, I decide to ignore any possible apprehension. 

        It felt like restless hours on that plane with Harry quietly sleeping across from me. If you stared at him while he frowned, he looked sort of cute. His pink lips looked pouted and his frown was becoming more endearing than misleadingly cruel. I turned my head, noticing the strands of his chestnut brown hair that curled around his ear.

        "I can feel you staring, Catalina." He muttered dryly with his eyes still closed. 

        Stunned, I stammered out, "I-I thought you were sleeping."

        "Well, I wasn't." Harry remarked. 

        "Stop being an asshole. We're going to be in one house in Brazil for God knows how long." I stated firmly. 

        Harry opened one eye, and murmured, "Yeah, I know. You better watch out, I might end up actually shooting you." He sarcastically retorted. 

        "Same here," I gnarled beneath my breath. 

        He opened both of his eyes now, narrowing them at me. "What was that?" 

        "Nothing," I muttered.

        "No," he sat up from his seat. "Speak clearly. What did you say?" Harry angrily spat, watching me with an expectant glare. 

        I gulped loudly and said, "I didn't say anything."

        "Hm," he hummed, "Yeah, that's what I thought, too." 

        +

        Florianopolis is a beautiful area. I'm immediately amazed and overwhelmed by all the differences. It was foreign, yet beautiful and I could've swallowed thirty flies on the way to our destination. Harry sat at the back of a man's truck with me, silently staring out the window. The man at the wheel worked for my father as well. I wasn't be surprised, considering he had people in every part of the world. 

        We finally stopped at a beautiful light orange-pink house. It was small, but in a way pretty and cozy. It was a new house. I could tell by the newly shined porch and the new paint smell still staining the air. Soon enough, I was ordered to get out of the car by an impatient Harry. 

        The keys jiggled in his hands as he reached to open the front door. He moved aside to get our luggage as I walked past him and into the already furnished house. It smelt of new wood and polished floors. Inside, it was cooler than the warm air of Florianopolis. I wrapped my arms around myself just as Harry tossed all of the luggage to the floor, careless as usual. 

        I rolled my eyes and decided on carrying my own luggage. 

        "Good, you got the hint." Harry walked past me as he said so. 

        I glared at him as he walked up the stairs, burning holes through that head of curls. That jerk had more comebacks than I could ever think of. He made the book by which all assholes seem to go by. Sighing heavily, I proceeded to lug my shit up the stairs since Harry's too busy being too superior to do anything for anyone. 

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