Petal [h.s.]

Chapter 12

I was too baffled to close my jaw. "How bloody rich are you?"

Harry didn't answer me as the elevator doors closed and he brought us up to the fourth floor, the steel doors opening up to a living room. I frowned slightly, my eyes squinting as if I wasn't sure if I was seeing correctly. Harry's home was... not what I expected.

It had so much character. The hardwood floors were accompanied by brown leather couches, a fireplace and many many bookcases. He had artwork on the walls and it looked so... rustic. It was not at all what I had expected after seeing his room at the mansion. It looked incredibly homy. 

Harry walked around the place, entering and exiting a few rooms and packing some stuff in a bag as I slowly walked around. The kitchen was large, and it looked astonishingly used. I couldn't help but imagine Harry cooking meals here, it seemed so out of character for him. 

I was walking around the fourth floor, opening and closing doors curiously as I made my way through his apartment.

I saw an office, a luxurious bathroom, a separate toilet and two bedrooms. One was obviously his as the other one had a stripped bed and hardly any furniture in it. I suspected Harry didn't exactly have many guests, and if he did they probably shared the bed with him. 

I cocked up an eyebrow at the headboard of his bed, seeing the metal bars and remembering Abby saying how he liked to tie his girls up. How convenient.

His space was so much more colourful while his room at the mansion was so bland. The sheets on his bed were patterened and bright, a few accent walls throughout the apartment made the place look alive.

"You've done nice decorating this." I complemented as I strolled around slowly. Harry was still walking around, "Yea, Eleanor did most of it. She's good at that stuff." He responded from another room.

My brow arched up when I tried to open another door but found it locked. "Harry? What's in here?" My curiosity took over as I asked him the question. 

He froze for a moment, duffle bag in his hand and a shirt in his other. "Nothing."

He continued walking around the apartment, picking up stuff here and there that he shoved in the bag. I was confused at his answer, trying to open the door once more but decided to leave it at that. He didn't really seem like he wanted to talk about it anyway. 

"Can I see the bag?" I asked as we were about to leave again.

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't hide any drugs in here, Violet." He already sounded annoyed and the week was yet to start. 

I shrugged. "I'm checking anyway." I took out his stuff again, patted down his clothes and toiletries, opening bottles to check if he hid anything in them. I had seen it all throughout the years, kids had been so incredibly creative in trying to sneak stuff into the walls of the RSP. And I wouldn't put anything past Harry. 

Addicted people always seem to find a way. When I didn't find anything, I tucked everything back in neatly under Harry's glare, before we left the building again.

Harry parked his car on the opposite side of the street of my apartment building, and I held out my hand once we exited the vehicle. He frowned for a second until he realized what I was asking, and then timidly dropped his car keys in my open hand. 

"Thank you." I nodded, tucking the keys in my pocket and intending to hide them somewhere once inside. I didn't want him to have any ways to leave once this week started.

He dropped his bag on the floor of the living room and I motioned for him to sit down on the couch. I took a seat next to him and picked up the paper that was on the coffee table. "I've drawn up a contract."