Harry paced back and forth, his arms crossed over his chest. He had been so immersed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the clock had struck 12.

"Happy birthday." I wished him, standing up from the armchair.

He took a glance at the clock before turning to me. His features had relaxed, his voice a lot softer. "Well, I guess I broke the tradition." He hinted at a smile.

"Isn't that big of a deal, is it?" I smiled.

He responded with a light shake of the head. "What's funny is that my dad knew."

"What?"

"He thinks I'm an idiot. Both him and Richard extended the contract because they knew you and I hadn't had sex." I almost cringed at his bluntness. "But he didn't have to tell me that. It was obvious."
How could he have possibly found out?

"But what's the point? You're already 20."

"He kind of threatened me to have it done tonight." He positioned himself on the edge of the bed, heaving a sigh. He looked so distressed I was afraid he might have second thoughts. I hoped he wasn't reconsidering anything. Damian was putting him under so much pressure.

"W-Why is this tradition so important?" I inquired, not letting thoughts of what could happen tonight slip in.

Harry interlocked his hands behind his neck, puffing out a heavy breath as he looked down. "It's all superstition. Look at my dad, he's ancient. He believes in stuff like that to an extreme degree. Just like my grandmother, but she went a little overboard with her beliefs in witchcraft." He laughed. "It's believed that if a guy has a virgin before he turns 20, his future will be bright. Wealth and power would come pouring down on him. And what's weird is that my dad and grandad had that luck."

"So... you believe in it." My voice trembled a little.

"What do you think?"

"Then why don't you get another girl instead? Like that girl who came by that day."

"You don't know how extremely rare virgins are here, do you? If that were the case I would've already had one ages ago. And Kaylee... she's a lot different than what she appears to be." Was he implying that she wasn't the perfect, innocent overachiever that I made her out to be? More importantly, did he actually believe in this senseless tradition?

I was at a loss for words as Harry looked up at me. His eyes emitted a strange zeal that I'd never seen before. Suddenly, I was afraid. Harry wouldn't hurt me. I knew he wouldn't. But then again, he was Damian's son. My sense of safety was shattering piece by piece as he continued to watch me in a way I wasn't too fond of.

"I think I'll head to bed now." I mumbled, unable to think straight. I quickly walked past him but was brought to a halt by a tug on my elbow.

"We're in your bedroom." Harry reminded me and I felt blood rush to my cheeks.

"I-I knew that. I just need to go... um... get something." I stuttered. I tried to pull out of his grip but failed.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked. I wanted to tell him no but inside, I felt the exact opposite.

I almost jumped when Harry began to laugh. It was uncalled for at a nerve wracking time like this.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" He asked me. "Of course I don't believe in all that shit. But that look on your face was priceless." He told me before resuming the laughter. My irritation was growing and it wasn't stopping anytime soon.

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