JAWLLINES MASTERLIST

Harry is smitten with a human, and Y/N hates cranberry juice (a lot) - part 3

Y/N felt heavy.
If an elephant had been sitting on her she really wouldn't be that surprised; her limbs felt trapped beneath cinderblocks, her eyelids a daunting plight to open, and her head aches like the world was being pressed into it, learning things all at once when her mind was reportedly blank, aside from the weight on her body that could easily drag her through the blanket of dirt and down to the Earth's core – maybe even farther, to the pits of hell, and then even deeper than that.
She doesn't remember much; falling asleep in Harry's bed while he took a shower, feeling eyes on the back of her neck, Muffin perched besides her with a darting gaze around the room. The set up should've scared her out of slumber but his mattress felt like lying in millions of feathers and his blankets rose up like whipped cream clouds around her, light dim from the beside lamp and the few Christmas lights she'd begged him to string up. His scent overwhelms her, clinging to everything and infiltrating her nose, wrapping around olfactory neurons and filling her head with comfort.
Y/N was warm and surrounded by Harry – it was only natural that the mere memory of his presence lull her to the sweet embrace of sleep.
Yet there was nothing sweet about having a seven ton animal imprisoning her beneath it.
Slowly does she pry her eyes open, fighting against invisible fingers holding them shut. It's as much of a start as she could get at the moment, now seeing trees with bustling leaves towering over her, making her feel like a minute. They block off the sky with their fullness despite the chill in the air proclaiming it's winter and the leaves should've long since fallen, and at the thought of the cold, self aware goosebumps rise all along her body. A shiver drags itself up the entirety of her, fingers twitching where they lie besides her thigh and oh. Oh shit, she doesn't have pants on does she?
Getting her body to move was another thing entirely. Hands digging into soft soil for some sort of grounding, pressing herself up as her brain tries to work out a few things, Jell-O like limbs that she must've not used for ages. Night is thick in the air, she's in the woods, she's not wearing pants but she is in one of Harry's shirts so it's slightly longer than one of hers so at least one thing isn't working against her. Her legs pull up, knees to her chest as she maps out her next move. In the distance she can see a glimmer of a light; maybe a street lamp, maybe a house...whatever it may be, it has to be better than the darkness shrouding her now.
However the travel there would be hard, she realizes, seeing as she has no shoes and there is fresh snow blanketing the ground. If she wasn't already in for a fever of some sort, then she was definitely going to get one now, no doubt. Lifting her hand was a bit easier now as she knuckles at her eyes, blinking hard before settling in one final huff. Using a tree trunk as leverage, she hikes herself up.
Something stops her though...a low growl resonating in the air around her. It was sinister, dark, and when she looks down to her feet the white snow is letting what appears to be black paint bleed into it. The once sparkling ground now sludgy goo, seeping in around her ankles and she opens her mouth to scream but no noise other than a squeak comes out. The growls are louder, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of her neck. Ripping from the sludge was no easy feat, but as soon as she got one foot out she stumbled, landing hands first into more of it and it's crawling up her arm, digging into her skin. She can't get out...she can't get out – oh god, why can't she get out?
"Baby?" A voice breaks through, fighting its way past the goo that is wrapping around her mouth, around her nose, around her eyes, a figure forms that she can't quite make out, "Baby, wake up for me."
Y/N wakes with a start, jumping out of her skin with her eyes wide as they could be, seeing Harry leaning close, worry in his brow, "I think you were having a nightmare."
Nodding, she looks distraught around the room, hand reaching up to feel her arms and looking around her to see the only thing pooling around her are Harry's soft blankets. She feels her eyes water but she blinks hard to shove the tears away, trying to avoid looking at Harry who is making it impossible as he wiggles his way into her line of vision, "Oh, Baby," he sighs sadly, tutting his tongue, "You poor thing, was it that dream again?" Y/N nods slow, lip wobbling considerably, and she doesn't mean to act like a child but it was scary. It was scary and Harry was warm and broad and comforting and made it feel okay to cry, "I'm right here, moppet, don't worry okay? How about I make you something hot to drink. yeah?" He soothes, pulling her into him as he draws from the bed.
"Can I make us cookies?" She proposes, "I saw this new recipe on Pinterest – and before you start, I know, I know, but that app is very useful during boring lectures, I discovered – and they'll be shaped like cute little Christmas trees! Wouldn't that be nice, to make some nice cookies, and then we can drink the drink you're going to make and we can maybe stay up the rest of the night because I don't want to fall back asleep again?" A deep breath in, Y/N slots her fingers with hers and gnaws at her lip. That's the third time she's had that terrible, terrible nightmare and each time it feels realer and realer.
Harry nods, eyes soft and solicitous as he squeezes her hand, "Sure, Baby, as long as I get to help you ice them?"
"Course, course! We can make the icing too, it'll be a proper ball."
No mind it being three in the morning, nor the fact the likeliness of Harry having being asleep was slim to none as awake as he seems, and it makes her feel terrible. She's keeping him up so late because of a silly nightmare and it's shitty of her, but he's so gentle and keeps holding her hand as they walk down his expansive hallway towards the kitchen. Even chuckles at her hissing from the cold tiles, picking her up by the hips easily and setting her down on the counter, "Alright Button, tell me what to get out."
Y/N rattles the list off, watching him fly around the kitchen, getting all of the stuff on the counter besides her along with a bowl, a whisk, and a rolling pin. Even humors her and puts on the lavender apron she bought for him, with pretty frills that only he could work without looking silly in. His hair was fluffy on his head, looking well rested despite his lack of sleep and all of his features, really, set him up for a "if beauty could kill, she'd be dead" scenario. His shirt is worn, and he wore sweatpants, and Y/N thinks she's so lucky to see him like this. Whenever they go out, and when she'd seen him at the club, he was always dressed to impress, like a million dollars.
"Oi," Harry snaps his fingers in front of her face, "I know I'm pretty, but staring is so rude Bunny."
"Sorry," she murmurs, ringing the hem of her shirt in her fingers, "I just – y'know. . .you're cute."
Smiling, Harry nibbles at his bottom lip, "You're cuter." He counters, "Now," his hands now sit on her thighs, "Come help me make some cookies!"
. . .
There was a mess of white flour all over the place, but ten Christmas tree, five candy cane, three snowmen, and one weird gingerbread man hybrid Rudolph cookies are sat and ready for them to eat. Harry had just made them hot chocolate, it was barely over 6AM, and he surprised her with matching fuzzy socks that he'd bought off the whim for the both of them. "Aloe infused, ain't that something?" He hums, tugging the socks on his own feet as Y/N taps hers together.
She nurses a mug between her hands, the platter of cookies on the coffee table in front of them, "D'ya wanna watch something?" She wiggles closer to him, "Netflix has a new season of that one spooky show."
"You and spooky shows," he murmurs, grabbing a cookie and reaching his arm around her, feeding it into her mouth, "Okay, Button, take a nibble and lets see how it tastes."
A careful bite leads to a happy cheer, urging it into his mouth as well, "Like the yummiest thing ever, thanks to you. You're like a chef, really."
"Beau taught me a lot," he holds it towards her lips so she takes another bite, No, no, no! 'Arry, you're too cute to be stupid, ey? Swiftly whisk, it'll do the trick. Don't be a dolt!' And then he'd whack me on my head with a wooden spoon, till I got it right."
Y/N giggles, swiping crumbs off of her mouth, "Beau is somethin' innit he? I miss him, a bit, he gave you a run for your money I think."
With a gasp, Harry's eyes widen considerably, "You would rather spend time with Beau?"
"Oh, no, no, no, you're my favorite, Goose!" She swats his arm, and sure they don't kiss just willy nilly as she often thinks about, but that doesn't stop her from pecking kisses at his cheek in rapid succession, until he's resorted to light titters, twisting around so that she gets his nose, his forehead, a little bit of his eye. "Who else would stay up with me all night to make cookies?"
Squeezing her hips, Harry steadies her on his lap, "I am pretty great, aren't I?" He hums, slipping his hand up so his palm rests against her jaw, circling his fingers behind her ear and it makes Y/N shiver, and he stares at her fondly before continuing, "I need to bite you again, Button."
Y/N tilts her head to the side for him, baring her throat, "Kay!"
Really, Y/N doesn't know how this helps, nor has she questioned why she trusts that it does, but really she just doesn't think too hard about it. Just happy for the contact, the feeling, and the snuggling afterwards; it's not sex in the slightest, but the unspoken bond she feels is something she can't put words to, and dare wouldn't share with him in fear he'd think she was being pushy. Even when he's not – there was something about being with him that made her feel as if she wanted to push herself into him, so close that she could be something of a second skin.
So she doesn't mind it, when he bites, even when her neck is sore for a little while. Scrambling for his hands, she holds them tight and drops herself, relaxed in his lap, "You're driving me crazy." Harry murmurs, digging his face into her throat, his lips soft as they gambol across her skin with kisses and gentle sucks. A deep breath in while he nuzzles, "You smell so good."
And then she feels his teeth grazing, before stroking his thumb over her knuckles; a silent warning.
When Harry bites into her its much like how it usually is; the initial shock of it makes her jump before her whole body melts into him until she's the consistency of syrup, and every worry...every nightmare...disappears in the air like thin smoke of an incense stick. She's floating in a sky of bulging white clouds even better than his blankets, something sugary sweet like cookies and a whirlwind of Harry...oh gosh she really, really likes Harry and how he smells and how he feels.
"Uh – um, Harry?" Y/N utters, and that's new – she thinks – she doesn't ever really talk during these bites, and it appears Harry is surprised to, his sucking slowing some as she continues but it doesn't even feel like she's speaking, honestly, "I – oh, I really just..." Her eyes flutter closed, "I love... I love..."
Harry pulls back.
Y/N passes out.
. . .
Harry is almost one hundred percent certain that Y/N was seconds away from professing feelings Harry didn't know if he was ready to hear yet before she passed out. It was billowing in his thoughts, he was really unable to shake it no matter how hard he tried, even more so that she was at one of her classes and all he could do was sit and idly wait for Liam at the coffee shop. Not even a chai latte can get through the fog of her in his head, especially when he kept thinking about how much she would love to sit and drink coffee with him. Considering the rarity it was that they were out together in public for precautionary measures, and after the stunt he pulled with taking her out on a date...well, in truth, it was to keep her questions at bay, however it was for his own indulgent pleasure as well.
He could imagine it now, with Y/N sat across from him, legs kicked up on the other unoccupied chair showing off cute little slippers that she totally shouldn't wear out but she does anyway. Prattling about this, that, and everything – from weird plant facts to how much she liked the sweater he had on because it's just so cute, jeez louise! I'm gonna wear it to sleep sometime – and she would want him to lie his hand down on the table so she could play with his rings, and his fingers. Just to touch him...constant contact was something she likes.
And it was something Harry had grown to like a lot too.
The bell chimes as the front door opens, and Liam appears in the opening, momentarily distracting Harry enough to sit up straighter but he doesn't rise to shake Liam's hand. Such formalities are nonexistent when they're as close as the two are, so he just slides the coffee he'd ordered for Liam (just black, the boring lug) to the seat opposite of him, "You're a minute late. I'm surprised."
"Humans don't know how to drive, Harry, you know that." Liam mutters low enough for only Harry to here, slipping his coat from his body and lying it over the back of his chair, "Especially when it's snowy."
Harry nods, sipping from his drink as Liam settles in, "I expect this is less of a meet and greet and more of a you telling me why I shouldn't be with a human." He decides to jump right in, leaning into his chair with a low breath, a silent 'go ahead' in the air around them.
"Not why you shouldn't," Liam begins, and with the deep breath he takes, Harry knows he's bound to be talking for a while, "I visited Anya – from Sweden, remember?" (How could Harry forget Anya? The forever 57 year old witch who got possessed and accidentally kidnapped near half the men in a small Swedish village at least a hundred years back. He forgets now what the demon who possessed her was called, but he recalls it was one from an old Swedish folk lore, who unlawfully married herself to 90 kidnapped men at a time before being caught by the village women who all burned her alive in the cottage she lived in. It was a mess, honestly, it ruined Harry's holiday as he unwillingly nursed petrified villagers to health before the then exorcised Anya erased their memories). "She's been around a long while, I figured she would have some information about it, and it appears that this is a – well, Harry, this has really only happened to you."
Brows furrowed, Harry tilts his head.
"Anya told me that most of the time the love is unrequited, most often on the vampire's side but, uh –" he clears his throat, eyes flashing away, "The feelings can also not be returned on the human's side, it just doesn't happen a lot. It's usually a blood lust thing, as vampires see it, though it hurts when they're bitten human's get a sensation like their high afterwards or during and it's unlike a feeling they can get from taking pills or smoking something or snorting powder through their nose – whatever they do – and they become obsessed with the feeling. Which, in turn, leads them to be obsessed with the person that gives them that feeling, and we our a very alluring species, I will admit that drags them in the whole way as well. However, with you and Y/N...in the club, when you met her – Louis was yelling at her, yeah?" Harry nods, "And you said something made you go over there. Made you stop it, and you say it was the smell of her blood that got you originally but in a mass of the hundreds of sweaty bodies in that club, even our heightened senses would have trouble picking out a scent apart from that. This is where it started I believe."
"Basically, there was something – something there you recognized. You followed it, you fed from her, and that really sealed the deal. She passed out one from the blood loss and two because that was your bonding bite, and her body had to come to terms with the changes. Like for one, she won't age – Anya has experimented with bites before, which results in a few people not changing in any sort of aspect physically for a few years, yet without it being renewed it fades quickly and they resort back to it. Your accidental scenting was no accident; it was instinct. From the get go she was yours and there really isn't an explanation for it right now, but we're trying. Anya says she's eternally indebted to you for saving her, so she has no problem looking into it."
Harry's head spins, mind reeling so he sets his elbows down on the table and his face into his hands, as Liam confirms the bond Harry had an underlying knowledge of yet didn't want to think too hard about, "Fuck." He murmurs quietly, and he's sure Liam wouldn't have been able to hear him for not his heightened senses, "Is – is this – do you..."
"I don't think any lesser of you Harry," he tells him, voice low, "But this is something we can't just come out with. You must claim she's a blood whore, or summat, I can only imagine the upbraiding Des would have for you."
He's too flummoxed to care about the mention of his father, or the fact that he has to call the girl he really, really, really fucking likes something so cruel and dehumanizing. Only knuckles tiredly at his eyes as he utters passively, "So what do I do now? What about the thing that's following her when I'm not around? And she's been having these nightmares..."
"You continue on as normal. As long as you continue biting her and scenting her it should keep at bay considering you're such a dominant figure, and as for the nightmares – well, she's human Harry, they have those often." Liam sighs, "I – if I were you Harry, I would see this more as a blessing than a branch in the road. For whatever reason it might be, you have someone's undying love no matter her being a human; they're fickle creatures, for her to trust and care for you so intensely is something to be celebrated, but perhaps that's just me."
This, whether it was intended to or not, makes Harry feel like absolute shit. Here he has a beautiful, beautiful girl who is so sweet to him and so gentle and kind, yet loud and cheeky, who puts her faith in him. One who looks at him with big, sweet eyes. Who cuddles next to him at night and clings tight like he might disappear. Who listens to him talk about anything and everything like it might just be the most interesting thing in the entire world. Who manages to be just the cutest, most innocent thing he's ever seen but also so unknowingly sensual that it drives him batty.
And here he is huffing and puffing, when Liam's human walked out on him.
Here he is, having everything Liam wanted, and no doubt he must be hurting.
"I –" he begins to apologize but Liam cuts him off swiftly; he doesn't like apologies when it comes to that. Doesn't like talking about her much either, really.
"It's fine, Harry. In a week I'm going back to visit Anya and hopefully she'll have something new to share." He cracks his knuckles, "Now that that's over, I must chastise you. Being rude to Des gets you know where, Moppet, you should know that."
"Li –"
"I told him you would go to dinner with him and your mother - BUT before you start, it's just a night! It's important to keep relations with your father or at least act like it, or there is a disrupt in the hierarchy and we look weak. We can't have that."
Harry's shoulders slump forward, "Okay, fine, whatever, but I – I need you there, but I need someone with Y/N."
"You – well, you might not like this option, but we can keep her in one of the curtain rooms."
His eyes widen, "No way. No fucking way, why would I –"
"Yes, but Louis will be standing guard in the entryway and we'll have her in the far corner! The curtain will be closed, the feedings in there are still relatively quiet, and considering most everyone will be in the dining hall anyways, there's not a lot to worry about. This way you're near her, your father won't be suspicious given you have a – what he sees as – a legitimate reason for you to be around her. I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't trust things would be okay."
And once again, Harry is too tired to fight it.
"Fine." He murmurs reluctantly.
. . .
Y/N – as always – blindingly trusts Harry two nights after when he tells her he's going to eat dinner at his father's, but needs her to sit in the curtain room. The curtain room – a large one, with several different sections each covered with large, thick garnet colored curtains over each entryway. It's where they went to feed privately, from one of the several humans (all paid a suitable amount, of course) sitting and waiting for either someone to come bite them or for their shift to be over. They don't talk – mostly staying drawn to their phones – so it was silent aside from the whir of fans, and the often heavy breathing of someone being bitten.
So, relatively its the safest place for her to be, with Louis guarding the door and Harry's scent heavy on her, he really should have only minor worries, since he'd gotten her in with no problems. So now she sits on a comfortable couch with a computer he'd taken from one of his father's studies (he checked to make sure there was nothing too terrible on it first), and a sandwich they'd gotten on the way here. Legs crossed and her eyes stay trained on him, despite the high ceilings and Japanese style wall dimmed lighting that took her attention as she first walked in.
"I'll come and grab you as soon as it's over, yeah? If you need anything, Louis is right outside, just ask him."
"Alright! Have fun with your father and stuff Harry, tell him I said hi."
At this moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to stay with her in here. She looked soft in her sweater, drooping around her body almost like a small blanket, and the warm glow in the room set the mood for a cuddle so nice it would rival all cuddles he's ever felt. Brain filling with images of her dozing off on his chest while they watch something mindless, and doing that thing where she noses into his neck before settling and shit of all nights to have to have dinner with his father, Y/N just had to look so god damn inviting, didn't she?
He leans down and gives her a swift kiss on the cheek, making her scrunch her nose at him, "When we get back to my place, I'm g'na rub your back, yeah? Give you a nice little massage so you're all loose before bed."
"Oh thank god! You're the best Harry, my back feels like there are rocks in it."
He gives her one last kiss before drawing away, pressing passed the heavy curtains and hearing her quick typing get more and more muted as the distance between them grows. It'll be okay – he has to keep telling himself – it'll be okay because nobody would dare touch someone that belongs to Harry unless they wanted to face exile (or an even worse feat: Harry's wrath), and Y/N is safe. If anything were to happen...which it won't...he's just right down the hall, sitting with his father whom he's grown to loathe and a mother who sits quietly as she watches their relationship crumble. And a dozen other people who aren't really relatives but live in this house, and guests from other places, and Liam – god, Liam is the only one he actually, truly is okay with having dinner with.
The dining room is as it's always been, with cathedral like ceilings decorated in murals that can be dated back to 1875 (his father was, admittedly, rather old) as a thank you from Claude Monet. At one time, Des was very charitable – when money wasn't the sole purpose to his life at the time, and the thought of donating seemed profitable in the wealth of his graciousness and conscious.
Chandeliers drop down with glittering, sparkling crystals around warmly lit bulbs that he just knew Y/N would fall in love with if she were to see it. There are four of them, that illuminate the same garnet walls as the curtain room and it takes Harry back to awkward dinners as a child, when all he wanted to do was play but he had to sit besides his weird Aunt who called him Dumpling Face, and pinched at his cheeks. Sure, since then it's been remodeled and redone and updated, yet it still smells the same and still feels airy yet balmy all at once. A nice summer breeze like atmosphere that would almost make up for this terrible situation, but not by much.
There is a long, dark wooded Victorian dining table with high seated, red cushion backings. Harry knows his place is meant to be besides his father, but he takes the spot to the right of Liam towards the center of the table. Shuffling his legs a proper amount beneath the tablecloth as he sees it's basically been started without him, hearty amounts of food already being placed among plates. As he looks around, the faces he sees are ones he recognizes and ones he doesn't and he really doesn't care to speak with any of them, but he's here to play nice.
"My boy has come to join us this evening!" Des chirps proudly, raising his wine glass and nodding towards Harry, "We've had your favorite made. It's nice to have you son."
"Unwillingly, have you." Harry mutters lowly so only Liam could here, and Liam pinches at his thigh roughly, "Thanks for having me father. It's nice to see you all once again and become acquainted with the people I haven't yet met."
A man from across him gives him a broad grin, "Ah, so you're the one we've all been hearing about as of late! Your cosign really helped expand us, Son, we're talking in both Asia and South America." Harry nods as if he cares, getting a forkful of a meat unknown to him to cram in his mouth as an excuse not to speak, "Not to mention the revenue increase –"
"How about we leave business talk for the conference rooms," Liam suggests lightly, looking around the table, "We've all been working all day. Lets relax, and talk about other things, like say – have you lot heard about this Kanye West thing? That's some intense stuff right there, it sure is."
Harry could kiss Liam right now, really, as he listens to them delve into Kanye, before moving onto the media's involvement in celebrity lives, and expanding on other topics that don't relate to Harry's unwilling involvement in his father's sometimes questionable business excursions which is nice.
Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.
. . .
Well, Harry's fucked.
It was halfway through the dinner, getting ready to wrap things up with an excuse of paperwork and bidding a reasonable farewell. His plate cleared, his glass just about empty, and a suitable amount of input on certain topics so he didn't appear like a hermit, and Harry should've been just about out of there with the false notion he enjoyed himself.
However, a feathery light voice surprises him, his eyes widening and he hears Liam choke a bit on drink besides him.
"Oh! Oh, shit...I mean shoot, I sort of – where is your trash can?"
Y/N was here.
Y/N was fucking in here, and all the attention had turned to the human who stumbled into a vampire's dinner like a god damn lamb in a lion's den. She held the bag of her food in her hands, raising it up, "There wasn't one where I was staying and I didn't want it to attract bugs, so I thought I could just toss it. Sorry for interrupting dinner, though, someone told me the kitchen was through here."
"This is very impolite, Y/N." It tasted bitter on his tongue, speaking her to her like this, in a tone so low and spiteful, "Come now, I'll take you to the trashcan and you must return to your –"
"Now, now, hold on a tick, Son," Des begins, tilting his head to the side, "Who is this?"
"I'm Y/N, Sir, nice to meet you," she tells him, smiling kindly, "I didn't mean to interrupt, really, I've just had ants literally invade my house before and it was just the worst getting rid of them."
Des nods slow, understanding, but Harry can see the intense gaze he has on the purpled mark, however it appears Y/N isn't bothered by this at all. Even though the whole room appears to be staring, she's calm and collected and it's probably got them confused – even the most regular of feeders gets nervous around a group of vampires from time to time, so this was the utmost suspicious, "It's nice to meet you to, Love," he starts, voice sickeningly sweet, as if she were one of his conquests, "You and Harry know each other well then?"
"Is this realty the time?" Harry cuts in abruptly, "I'll show her the way out." The scrape of his chair is loud against the floor, though Liam's hand clamps down onto his thigh and squeezes once. Hold tight, is what that meant. It'd be suspicious if he overreacted.
"It's odd she doesn't know her place." He hears a murmur from the other side of the table and it takes everything in him not to shoot daggers at the person who dare utter it. It's obvious Y/N heard it, brows furrowed looking from the table to Des, then back to Harry.
Des, however, decides to bring attention to it, "Now Richard, that's no way to speak to a lady. Need I remind you just the other day Liam had to knock you down a few pegs, because someone was getting a bit too high and mighty for how low on the scale of importance he was?" Then he looks back to Y/N, "Next time you can eat dinner with us, no need to hide out. Sometimes feeders need to be wined and dined, don't they? Or else they get a bit antsy and start acting out, like tonight."
Y/N's head tilts, "What the hell is a –"
"Oh for fuck sake!" Louis barges in loudly, making Y/N jump and now the gaze shifts to him, "Can't leave you alone for a second can I? Quiet as a bloody mouse, you are." He grabs her by the wrist, though Harry can see it was gentler than what he could have been, "Sorry Des, got a runner don't I? She's mighty cute, but a positive pain."
"Oi, I resent that." Her brows furrow, looking over to Harry helplessly but all he can do is shake his head. He can't believe she would just walk in like that – that's...fuck, he can't even say it's stupid because she doesn't know why it's dangerous, but it's so fucking stupid,
Des puts his hands up, "It's fine, truly! I don't mind her, she brings such light to this dreary room," his eyes flicker to Harry, though instead of being conniving and sneaky, he seems like he – well, he seems knowing, which pisses Harry off even more, "However, we're speaking very important business matters, so Louis why don't you show her the way."
"Ye, sure thing," he tugs her a little, "C'mon now, you pain in my arse."
"You lot treat me like a disobedient kid, you dicks, I was just trying to throw my food away." He hears Y/N's voice distantly and the tense in his muscles relaxes very little."
Harry scoots his chair back in, low murmuring of his "ballsy feeder" smelling sweet mixed with his scent, and the purple on her throat must really mean the blood is good because why else would Harry feed so often, and stop showing up at the club, or any events really where feeding was entailed? "Must be like a drop of heaven to him; and did you hear that voice. Wasn't it something? Like a – like a bell without being a bell? Wasn't particularly pretty but it was just so..."
"Honeyed."
"Dulcet."
"Euphonious?"
"Oh that's a good word Samantha, I like that. Don't you want to take a bite into her too?"
"Oh yes, yes I do, but she's Harry's, didn't you see that mark? Dark as that one is, he's rather possessive, and I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of his spite."
"True."
"Certainly."
"Off limits, she is."
Harry smirks.
At least they know.
. . .
Albeit the later rejoicing as Louis carted Y/N off and everyone came to the consensus that she was Harry's and despite the sweet tune of her voice and smell of her blood, she wasn't to be messed with – Harry was still terribly angry with her. He can't tell if he's being irrational about it or not...Liam isn't saying much about whether he should be pissed off, but he thinks if Liam tried to put his input in it would make him angrier, so in retrospect he's grateful that he is silent.
Des is acting like the scene at dinner wasn't anything, which makes Harry equal parts suspicious and relieved, so he decides that bidding his farewell a good twenty minutes after wouldn't rouse any questions or begin a gnarly argument over bringing an "untrained" feeder into the house. He shakes hands, even lets his father hug him with a tight squeeze and a clap to the back, "This was nice," Des murmured into his ear lowly, his wine breath thick on his ears and in the air, "Please come by more often."
Harry gave a halfhearted promise that he would before pivoting on his heal and scouting out to find Y/N, who he had quite the bone to pick with. A fire burning over the burner, as he stalks towards the curtain room, and he wonders if absently if the reason why Liam was in the curtain room as well was because he'd been coaching Y/N over the chastising she was sure to get. Though it's not fair on his part, honestly, she doesn't even know why it was a bad idea.
But he asked her to stay in that room so she would be safe and she ignored that.
Is that why it's so hard to be with humans? Even knowing there's danger they dive in it head first with a grocery bag of trash and soft toed slippers. A den of wolves and an unrightfully emboldened deer stumbling right in, looking lost and confused but certain that that was the place she needed to go. And it frustrates him dearly, that he sets her up for safety and somehow she manages to throw it at the wind.
"Before you start," Liam begins, as if to try and buffer the situation, "It's not her fault, really it isn't. No matter how safe it is in here with Louis guarding the door and no hiding spaces in each cubicle, she said she felt eyes on her and it scared her so she was eager to find something to do. Never did she mean to go to the dining room, she really was just trying to find the kitchen." He sighs, lowering his voice, "Don't go in yelling at her for something that's not entirely her fault. She'll never feel as safe as she does when she is with you. Defenseless, Harry, without you she is defenseless against whatever is following her and there is nothing she can do about it – she's human. Remember that."
How could I fucking forget that? Harry wanted to say, but he nods firmly, and keeps his mouth shut. Maybe it's best if he just doesn't talk for a while, until he simmers down. He doesn't want to say something he'll regret, and he doesn't want to hurt her feelings. It's better if he just keeps his mouth shut.
So the walk to the car is quiet, despite Y/N's many attempts to get him talking. And the drive is even quieter when he doesn't offer her to aux cord like he usually does, so she can turn on her music and sing and dance how she likes (because it was just really fucking cute, actually, and funny, so he liked to watch her). However he keeps his eyes directly on the road today, as he should, and nibbles gently at his bottom lip. He hears her huff at one point, and he guesses she's finally realizing the situation at hand – he isn't happy, and she is more or less the reason why.
What Harry forgets often though, is that humans are – well, how a vampire deals with something and how a human deals with something is different. When a vampire is upset they swallow it down or they lash out, neither being particularly healthy. They might keep it bottled up in them for so long they explode or they might just let the teapot whistle right then and there which is equally as bad, considering the heat of the moment allows them to really go in. When a human is upset, they get sad. Angry – obviously – but there is always an underlying dejection that eats away at them with each silent second going by.
And he didn't think of this until a very melancholy looking Y/N looks surprised as they walk into his house, pivoting on her heal with confusion a lit in her eyes, "I – you aren't taking me home?" Harry's brows furrow. What? "I thought – I just thought since you were upset with me that you would take me home. I'm glad you didn't though – I...I wanted to speak with you, if that's alright, only I'll do the speaking." She works to set her things down on the coffee table, though he can see its a ruse so she doesn't have to look him in the eye. It's hard to admit defeat when you're a human, he knows that. Has had many beg for forgiveness right before he's about to do away with them, crooks and criminals – the like of them. Y/N is no criminal but he knows her toes are curling; even if she's upset with him for reacting so harshly, somewhere she knows she should've waited for Louis or even for him.
"Um – I understand you're mad at me. I would be too, I think, because that looked real important and I know you don't like your father much. I didn't mean to interrupt whatever you guys were talking about, honest. It felt like someone was staring at me and I got frightened so I had wanted to be around other people – not particularly your dinner, but I figured there would have to be a few straggles in the kitchen that would make me feel a little safer. There was no intention to sabotage your night and ...and I don't like that you're upset with me, it makes me hurt in deep places that I don't really understand and I understand if you want me to sleep on the couch, I'm fully prepared, plus it's a nice couch too so like it wouldn't hurt my back. Also I don't know if you know but people were making eyes at my neck and is it really that purple because I didn't think it was so noticeable so maybe I'm just used to it or something." It seems like she might have said all of that in one single go, prattling until she realizes she's just rambling, and she closes her eyes – he can see her reflection off a glinting picture frame – a deep breath as she pauses her movements, "I'm – I'm sorry. I never meant to ruin your night and if you'd really rather not see me and I can call Niall and he'd come get me."
Harry doesn't think he's ever felt like this much of a dick before. Instead of talking it out like he should've, he let these horrible thoughts of impending abandonment fester in Y/N's mind. Right jerk, he is, and he really should've asked Liam to prep him for this. He isn't sure why he didn't, eager to get out of that house with Y/N safe in tow.
So he reaches out for her wrist and tugs her backward swiftly, twisting her so she faced him. Her face looked so fresh and soft, riddled with guilt that only furthers proving he's an arse. It's hard for her to look at him still, eyes casting down, "Oh Petal," he murmurs sadly, "I hadn't meant to make you think like this. I was upset, yes, but – I didn't want to be mean so I kept my mouth shut so I wouldn't snap at you, it's just being with my father makes me tense enough as it is and I...well, that doesn't matter much now does it?" He tilts her chin up, catching her gaze, gentle and bright, "Even if you made me the maddest I'd ever been, I would never want to be away from you Button, nor do I fancy the thought of a night with you on the couch without me." He leans closer, breathing in deep as her scent filters through his nose and wraps around his sinuses and invades his mind in the best way possible. Warm like vanilla and lavender and him not even just the scent he presses onto her, that only other's like him can really smell. Y/N, honest to goodness, smells like him and it's the most delightful thing knowing that humans will smell him on her too.
"I'm sorry." She all but whispers one last time, and Harry shakes his head.
"I'm sorry. I understand you were scared," he squeezes her sides, "We'll figure out what's going on, promise. Liam and I are trying to find that thing from a little while ago, and maybe even why you're having those nightmares. We've got a friend from Sweden too, going through some of her old records – she's one of those herb women, but I think she might be a witch."
Harry knows for a fact she's a witch but the way Y/N's eyes lighten up, grinning wide, "Really? Oh I used to read these blogs about people's experience with witches and some of them are your average, everyday, she mixed up some concoction and it healed my ulcer but others are like she kidnapped my great grandfather and forced him to marry her! Insane stories some of them, but I usually have this aching feeling the more outlandish ones are fakes."
Biting back a smile, Harry nods, "Yeah, you've got to watch out for those blogs. Could be lying about anything, like them mermaid ones."
Y/N gets quiet, eyes widening.
Harry gasps, "You don't!" He shakes his head, "You believe those!"
"Lots of the ocean is still unexplored!" She tells him defensively, "How could we be so sure that they don't exist, huh?"
"I think you might be a bit gullible. Let me guess, you saw a very nicely photoshopped picture that has been debunked several times, but there are debunks of the debunking, am I hitting around the ballpark?"
"Oh shut up," she grumps at him, hitting his shoulder lightly, "I'd rather drink cranberry juice than you trying to debunk me."
"Speaking of," Harry hums and Y/N groans, "C'mon now you know I can tell when you aren't drinking it. You aren't as slick as you outta be, and the smell of cranberry sticks even if you was it down the drain, Petal."
Things are back to normal, which is good, after their first little tiff. Harry never knew it felt this good to talk things out before as in every other relationship they just went to bed angry and woke up deeming it not worth the fight, so they'd fuck and makeup and repeat. But right now, with the understanding of why each party acted the way they did, Harry knows that he'll be able to lie awake, holding her close to him, knowing that there were no hard feelings left between them.
It's nice – really fucking nice.
Vampires and humans should start mixing more often.
. . .
When Y/N opens her eyes, she doesn't feel Harry's arm around her as she'd fallen asleep with but that was to be expected. Normally he waits for her to fall asleep then he goes and tends to his home, or does things he gets too distracted from doing when she's around. A great distraction you are, but a distraction nonetheless. I'd rather spend my time cuddling with you than being tidy and Liam would give me one hell of a hiding if he saw how it looked around here.
So that's fine; but what she doesn't really expect to be staring into the icy blue eyes of a very pissed off familiar face. These eyes weren't Louis' though – his were nicer, she thinks, they didn't have cruelty in them but these were filled with hatred and resentment. It chills her to the core but it feels like they've been on her before – not directly in her face, but the burn she feels is one that's similar to when she's alone and...oh.
Oh.
In her sleep muddled brain she blinks, thinking maybe she'll disappear. A sweat builds at on her neck as it feels like she's tied down, her limbs unable to move besides subtle twitches, her head looking around. Smoke rises in thick clouds like someone was puffing it out and she follows it, seeing as it wraps around her ankles and wrists like chains securing her to the bed. She doesn't want to breathe it in, it's making her dizzy and she feels like it's crowding her lungs to the point of near suffocation, which isn't great.
"I'm sending you back in time, you useless bug." She growls, "You'll see what a monster really is."
With all the strength she can muster, Y/N yells Harry's name. Obviously it startles Kristie, whose eyes widen considerably as she stumbles back a bit. "How in the fuck can you speak?" She asks aloud, like Y/N would know the answer, but there is the thumping over more than one set of feet against the floors in the hallway until Harry and Liam are bursting through the doorway.
"What the fuck are you doing? Get away from her!" Harry's voice is harsh, loud, if Y/N could move she would curl into herself at the sheer intensity of it. Obviously it affects Kristie, whom listens albeit the smirk on her lips as she tuts her tongue tauntingly.
"Your little blood whore deserves to know exactly what she is," she hisses, "A useless, insignificant, weak, human. Someone of your stature shouldn't even bother, yet here you are, so I think she should understand the monster she's letting sleep in her bed." She looks between them, "Or in this case, the monster whose bed she sleeps in."
Liam moves quick...quicker than Y/N's ever seen, really, like a blur of motion and he has Kristie pinned beneath him, scuffling with her wrists and tying them with rope that she doesn't understand how he got. The edges of her vision is beginning to get bleary...Y/N's real tired, and it feels like she's sinking into Harry's mattress. Like it's caving beneath her as some sort of toothless mouth wanting to gobble her up until she's disappeared, and her eyes begin to flicker. The bed shifts under the weight of another body before Harry's face is in front of her, and he's holding her cheek gently, "Baby? Baby, c'mon stay awake? Please stay awake."
His voice is pleading...she's never heard him like this before. Is he scared? Should she be scared? She feels nice. Sleepy. Like floating on clouds, lighter than air itself, or letting her whole body submerge into a pool of putty.
She leans into his palm; his warm, soft, gentle palm. It's comforting, she thinks she wants to nibble on his thumb to get a rise out of him but all she can do is let her eyes flutter shut completely.
"Hi Harry." Dreamy. Harry is real dreamy, innit he?
The mattress swallows her whole.
. . .
"She's not dead." Liam is quick to say, securing Kristie to a chair with rope Harry didn't know he had, but apparently it was strong enough to even restrain a demon so it had no problem keeping Kristie looped up to it as he steps away, "That lantern lit on your bedside table, it's one of Anya's. She'd been looking for it when I was there, thought one of the village kids must've hid it from her since they're always playing tricks but it appears it was stolen."
"What does it do? Why did she pass out?" Harry is petrified, maneuvering so Y/N's head was lying on his lap and he could wipe the sweat that had began to accumulate (out of fear, he would imagine) at her neck and face. It look like she'd just broken a fever, face somewhat sickly looking with deep bags like craters beneath her eyes but her lungs are still causing her chest to rise and fall and her heart is still thumping like a sweet song in Harry's ears, so it lessens his worry a bit but only very little.
Liam stays near, Kristie who watches Harry fret over Y/N, "It sends the spirit back to the past. Anya explained it to me while she searched, some people use it for enlightening on what might be their spiritual path lain out by their ancestors. Some people just want to meet an ancestor. The trick to it is since it's not your physical being and only your spirit, whatever you do back then won't effect the present. If she meets you from back then, then your past selves memory will be wiped of that day. There are only two lanterns in this world, one belonging to Anya, and the other is allegedly buried in the depths of the ocean." Harry is gnawing at his bottom lip, "From the sounds of it, I'd say she sent her back to a more brutal you. In attempts to scare her I presume."
"I'm right here, actually," Kristie pipes up, "Don't talk about me like I'm not."
Harry doesn't bother looking at her as he spits, "If you speak one more word I'll see to it that your tongue is cut out." And he really can't do that, actually, vampire laws and all that but Kristie doesn't need to know, "How do I stop it?"
With a empathetic look in his eye, Liam shakes his head, "You can't. It must run it's course, and at the right time she'll come back. However, I'll contact Anya and ask her if there is any time frame we might be able to schedule around." He slides his phone out from his pocket, "The result of this, I'm not sure. She might think it's a nightmare or..."
"Or what?" Harry urges him to continue.
Liam looks a bit grim, "Let's just hope she thinks its a nightmare."
. . .
Y/N feels heavy.
She's not wearing pants.
It's cold. She feels dewy drops of snow on her cheeks, dripping cold down her face the hollow of her throat. Her legs are riddled with goosebumps and prickly hairs trying their damnedest to keep her warm off instinct but there's no use, unless she can grow a thick coat of fur over each and then maybe she could fall back asleep. Hibernate like a bear, or a wolf, or – wait a minute, wolves don't hibernate. Insects do though, and leaves, she thinks, maybe she could be one of those too. Though the antennas might turn people off, same with the legs, but leaves always get crunched on and it's really just their bud hibernating isn't it? Also, if she were a leaf, would she want to be on a deciduous tree or not?
What was she talking about?
Oh yeah, the cold.
God it was so cold.
Despite the weighty feel of her eyelids, she pries them open to look at her surroundings. Big, dark trees loom over her, and it feels like she's been here before. It feels like she's been in this exact same predicament but she doesn't dwell on that thought at all, because it's fucking cold and there is snow surrounding her and the night is so silent and still she can both hear and see her breath. It feels like she might have the worst hangover of all time, a brick sitting on her brain as she attempts waking seemingly unconscious muscles. First wiggling her toes and fingers, imagining a little person shimmying their way up from her toes to her feet, and her arms to her wrist, so on and so forth with two pans clanking them together.
It doesn't help much, but it's enough to at least feel like she has them. Eventually being able to draw her knees upward and bend her elbows so she could get a firm grip on the ground, pressing herself up. Her limbs tremble with the forced movement, protesting with all their might but she finally sits up and her pupils are dilated enough so that she can see through the dark. The moon glimmers past the trees as much as it can, showing a very distinct path of foot prints leading to a clearing which led to a large field, covered in snow but a large house with lit windows shows promises of warmth and shelter and she would do anything for that right now.
Y/N uses a tree to hike herself up completely and she looks down at her feet, "C'mon," she murmurs at them quietly, "Grow shoes, or somethin'." The ground is solid and icy beneath her feet, and she's really concerned she's going to get frostbite but there has to be another way. Really, there does.
When she was younger, she'd gone to a beach. The ocean was cold, she remembers, and the water sloshed around her knees and when she got deeper it sloshed around her butt. It was there she remembered that somewhere in the ocean was a giant squid with possible razor sharp teeth and she got her ass out of the water and onto the sand but the sand was hot. It was burning the bottoms of her feet, and making each step feel like she was walking on fire. So she then decided to run, which was still hot, but not as bad and that way she was only making direct contact for short little fractions of seconds and it wasn't so terrible until she got onto her towel.
(That night when the bottoms of Y/N's feet were bright red and she was lathering them in aloe, she recalls humming Heat Miser's song from A Year Without Santa and it made her feel a bit better.)
So Y/N shakes herself off, really waking up her muscles now until her whole body feels like her own. The idea is probably stupid, considering this is fucking snow and it's icy cold and not sand, but she also figures that some things work even if one variable is on the other end of the spectrum. At this point, it might be her only choice, and though it seems like running to the house may feel like forever and a day, she takes one deep breath and tries to channel the fifth grader inside her that loved running fast.
She's about to take off, when a familiar voice stops her from moving at all. Foot suspended in the air as she pivots to face him. "You're foolish," it's deep, resonating deep in her body and oh – oh, it's Harry! Her racing mind settles some as she faces the one whom she trusted wholeheartedly, "I don't understand why you lot resort to such intricate plots to kill yourselves. Such weak skin, there's no way you'd survive out here for more than a few hours," but there's something different about him. Y/N isn't quite sure what it is, but he's not as warm as he usually is. Not gentle and sweet, with a caring gaze as he usually bestows upon her.
Eyes dark with a Machiavellian like gleam to them, they aren't the eyes that remind her of swimming in a sea of marbles, "Harry?" Her teeth are chattering, and when she blinks he's in front of her in a flash, startling her backward, "Oh! Hey, what're you doing out here? Why am I out here? I'm so confused, why aren't I in your bed?"
With a smile far from sweet, Harry reaches out towards her neck, "You're a chatty one, ey?" He answers, thumb pressing into her throat, "I don't understand you humans, if you want someone to kill you, why don't you just come to me, hmm?" Y/N's brows furrow...his touch isn't as comforting as it usually is. It's cold, uninviting...threatening, in a way. She tugs back a bit.
"What're you talking about?" Y/N grumbles, reaching up and taking him by the wrist, pulling him off, "What's going on?"
Disgruntled by the action, Harry's own brows clinch, and he reaches forward again but Y/N dodges it, "Aren't you a brave one, human?"
"Stop being dumb, Harry, and tel – tell me what's going on! Jeez," she shivers again, teeth chattering, "Why are we not inside? For fuck sake, it's freezing!"
"You're – why do you speak to me so familiarly?" He peers at her, leaning forward and sniffing the air around her like a hound, "You a half - breed, perhaps? Or just an idiot?"
"Hey! I resent that."
"I could kill you right here. As we stand."
Rolling her eyes, Y/N takes a step backward again only this time instead of a smooth glide farther away from what might just be an imposter of the man she'd been spending so much time with, she tumbles. With a squawk she falls with a thud against the snow, her near bare arse touching it cold and wet, and really she feels like this would be the appropriate time to burst into tears, but her god damn eyes aren't working. Harry laughs loud and brash, furthering the lump of embarrassment forming in her chest as she tries to get a grip.
His laughter is cut short, however, when he peers a bit closer to her in the dark, "Oi," he starts, taking her head and tilting it to the side, examining the mark on her neck, "That's – that's mine?" And he moves to be in her line of sight, brows furrowed deep in confusion, "Who are you?" He demands but Y/N's focus is becoming bleary around the edges, and the word is slipping away from beneath her as he repeats himself, "Answer me? Who are you and what is your business here?"
She wants to answer, really, she wants to ask if he bumped his head or something and lost his memory or something.
But the ground slips from beneath her, and everything is black.
. . .
When Y/N wakes this time, she's in water. Her eyes haven't opened yet but she can feel it slosh around her limbs as they move and she wonders if she's in a lake or a pool of some sort but its warm and the steam clears her otherwise stuffy sinuses. She remembers waking up the first time, and she remembers Harry being weird, and she remembers passing out but ...well, wouldn't she be on the ground still?
She peeks open one eye, the other squinted shut against the harsh lighting of the room she was in. It was – oh it was a bathroom? With a large cooled cast iron bathtub that she was in. And she wonders absently how she'd gotten in there, and why the water is pink, smells like flowers and has petals floating around in it with her. The heat seeps into her muscles and wipes away any aches she could've had and they're starting to feel normal now, unlike how they'd been when she'd woken up. Her eyes grow accustomed to the once blinding light of the room, enough so to see a sort of cobblestone floor that is a bit confusing but she has no room to judge interior design decisions she supposes.
"You're awake."
Y/N gasps, jumping a bit and sloshing the water around where it threatens to tip over the edge as her head snaps over to see Harry at the doorway, hand still on the knob. Normally, Harry still gets a bit sheepish seeing her naked even if he's witnessed it a couple times. He'd apologize quickly and look away, despite Y/N telling him time and time again that it was fine. "It's not appropriate for me to gawk," he would murmur, busying himself with something else, "I'm no lecher." And Y/N would always bite her tongue before mentioning that he was the one who stopped her from putting her towel back on after their date in favor of tasting her.
This Harry, however, stares freely before finally looking into her eyes, "I've got questions."
"Get out!" She shouts, taking the shower sponge from the side of the tub and chucking it in his direction. While she didn't mind regular Harry seeing her naked, this Harry was rude and laughed at her when she fell and kept referring to her as human, which granted – she was – but what did it have anything to do with anything?
He dodges it, his eyes widening, "Hey! What the hell," he slips in and shuts the door, "Keep quiet, he can't know you're in here."
And then it really dawns on her that Harry must've been the one to undress her and put her in the tub. What his motives were, she doesn't know, and who this he was who couldn't know she was here, she doesn't know either, but she's just about sick and tired of being confused. Scanning the area for something else to throw at him, she grabs a shampoo bottle and pulls back her arm but he raises his hands in defense, "Stop throwing things, for fuck sake, you're being loud."
"Why are you acting so weird?" Y/N demands an answer, keeping hold of the bottle tightly, "You were being so nice before, are you still mad at me for dinner? I thought we moved past this? You're not allowed to see me naked right now!"
"What are you talking about? And what does it matter if I see you naked, it's nothing impressive human, don't put yourself on a pedestal."
Y/N doesn't even have time to take offense to that, sinking back into the water in a huff. Where was she? Why doesn't Harry remember her?
Why does this bath water smell so damn good?
"Anyways," Harry continues, picking up the discarded sponge and setting it down on the sink, "I have a few questions. For starters, why were you in the woods with no pants on?" He brushes hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear and Y/N bites down on her lip. Her Harry's hair was still a bit short and fluffy, not this long unruly sort (it still suited him well), and she's never been more overwhelmed with confusion in her life.
"Your guess is as good as mine." She grunts, sinking lower into the water, and she notices her hair is pulled up in a bun but it hadn't been before. Did he do that too?
"Hm," he hums lowly, taking a seat down on the toilet besides her, "You've got my mark on you. Have we met before?"
Y/N looks at him, "Well I think something has happened because," she takes a deep breath, "Because we met a few months ago at a club that I didn't want to be at but you were there and I accidentally stumbled up to you, and you bit me and then you took me home and when I woke up there was this girl Kristie there who I thought was your wife and she obviously didn't like me but you yelled at her, but she didn't really matter and then you saved me from this dark thing following me that smelled like rot you said, and then you promised to protect me and you kept biting me to keep it away and we were kind of sort of a thing." She pauses for a moment to recoup, watching as he stares in bewilderment as she tries to push past the fog and figure out how she got here. "I – I, um, you had a dinner that we went to, but then we went home and I went to sleep," she shuts her eyes, trying to envision it. Harry complaining about her cold toes on his legs though he wasn't making any effort to push her off, only burrowing his face into her neck and inhaling deep, murmuring how he loves her scent, before she finally slid away into dreamland but then she...then she... "And I – I woke up. Oh, oh god! I woke up to her!"
The water sloshes as she sits up straighter, alarming Harry who leans away, "To – to Kristie, and she said she was sending me back in time? Am I back in time? Did I –" It would make sense, wouldn't it? Harry not remembering her, his hair being long, the fact that he seems to live in this castle and not in the house she's become privy to.
"You're being too loud." Harry utters, seemingly unamused but he tilts his head a bit, "He'll have my head if he knows you're in here. I shouldn't even have drawn you a bath."
"Who?" Smog in her head is clearing away with each blink, and she feels more and more awake as the seconds go by. This couldn't be a dream, it just couldn't be – it doesn't feel like one at all.
"My prick of a father," he grumbles, looking towards his hands and she just has to be back in time, because how this Harry speaks and how her Harry speaks are so different. Her Harry talks as if he's been alive for hundreds and hundreds of years, full of wisdom and caution, a gentle, tentative lowing of his voice that puts her mind at ease and makes her heartbeat quicken. This Harry sounds more petulant and rebellious, like a teenager who wants to piss their parents off so bad they'd do anything but then immediately regret it. He sounds like he believes he could have anything in the world as long as he snaps his fingers and shoots someone a dreamy look. "I'm trying to find a place of my own. Tired of being here with him, honest." He looks back up at her, "You know he had the nerve to cheat on my mother while she was out? And when I caught him he fucking begged me to keep it a secret...even offered to give me money so I'd keep my mouth shut, how fucked up is that?" Shaking his head, he leans back, "Liam tells me to stay out of their shite, but they always directly involve me in it. Not to mention I have to work for the fucker an see his mug every god damn day, at least this place is big enough I can avoid him."
Y/N focuses in on the water, twiddling her fingers against it. This is real, and she is real, and Harry is real in front of her.
She nods for him to continue. Truth be told is she never really understood to the extent of why Harry felt so much hatred for his father, and she figures this may be the only way to find out much more about it. After meeting Des, well, he seemed a bit sweeter than Harry had painted him out to be, granted Y/N hadn't known about the whole cheating fiasco, which is fucked up in its own.
"Liam's more of my father than he is, but he's wrapped around his finger innit he? It's ridiculous, he can get away with anything just because of his last name and like – I get it – the man's been around for thousands of years, but so has the ground and nobody is listening to it." He utters exasperatedly, before tutting his tongue at himself, "And here I am sharing my complaints with a human. You've got much more to worry about than my problems...s'just easy to talk to you, I guess."
"Why do you keep referring to me as "human"?" Y/N finally huffs, "I don't do that to you. And you don't do it in present time, either."
His eyes widen, "You still think I'm human?" Y/N's brows furrow, "With bite marks like that? Either I'm really good at keeping secrets or you're just an idiot."
"Hey –"
"I won't tell you what I am, though, figure I should let present me say that bit shouldn't I? Granted this is all true." He grabs for the towel behind him, setting it in his lap like he's getting it ready for her, "I may hate a lot of people, but I don't hate myself, so I won't throw future me under the bus like that. But I'm definitely not human, I'll tell you that much."
. . .
Harry is gnawing anxiously at his lip, with Y/N still in his lap as he brushes strands of her hair away. The sun is coming up now in streams through his window, and Kristie is still locked tight to his dresser with the special rope Liam had bound her with. They aren't sure what to do with her yet, considering she knows too much, so right now she's forced to stay as she is on the ground in pants that are no doubt uncomfortable and a pout the size of Jupiter permanently stricken on her face.
Liam had gone to make preparations for the next few days, calling in on meetings that Harry and he wouldn't be attending, and deadlines that needed to be pushed off. He even calls Y/N's university and leaves a message describing that she's fallen ill and won't be in for the next few days, so he'd come by and pick up her work. Which the professors would do, surely. It's hard to say no to a vampire.
So it's just Kristie, Y/N, and Harry in the room, sitting in silence.
He wishes he could see what was going on – at what point in Harry's life she'd been sent to, and whichever it may be he really hopes that past him had sense enough not to be a complete jackass. No doubt the secret is going to slip somehow, and now he knows when she wakes up he's going to have a suitable amount of explaining to do, but that doesn't matter. Harry's just so happy that she is alive and he is holding her safe in his arms, because out of all the things Kristie could have done she didn't harm Y/N terribly, and he would thank her for that if he didn't despise her.
"I don't understand what you see in her." Kristie grumbles for the first time since Harry had threatened her a few hours prior, "Nothing extraordinary about her, 'sides her blood smelling good."
"S'more than that." He answers despite himself, and he doesn't look away from Y/N's face, for a moment wondering absently if he should give her a little wash up and change her clothes. If she wakes and she's smelly, she could possibly ignore most of what happened in favor of griping at him for that and it's one of the reasons Harry likes her so much. Keeps him on his toes all the time, "She's more than just her blood. Don't you think there would have to be something special about her for not only me to want to protect her, but for Liam to as well? Des even defended her and he's been around for god knows how long – never had he treated someone so familiarly before, without being an absolute prick upon first meeting when they had nothing to offer him, so your comment is invalid."
Kristie looks back down at the floor.
. . .
Upon the fact coming straight from Harry's mouth that he wasn't human, it doesn't make Y/N trust him any less. If she's honest, she had a feeling that there was something up but she never really dwells on it too often because Harry was so sweet to her it didn't matter. So when he fluffs out her towel and stands, murmuring, "Up you get then." Y/N does so with very little hesitation, because while this isn't exactly her Harry he's still Harry, and she just wants to be near to him no matter which version of him it is. Though she prefers the less contumacious version, this one will do just fine. He still smells the same and his voice is a little less deep, but still his voice, and it's like a satisfying melody to her ears.
The towel is rougher than she expected, not as fluffy as the ones at home and she figures this Harry hasn't mastered the art of fabric softener and tumble drying just yet. He wraps it around her body, before bunching up her clothes in his arms and looking at her seriously, "We're gonna sneak back to my room, yeah? If he sees you he'll want an explanation and unless you want to spout all this time travel mumbo jumbo to him I suggest we keep quiet."
Y/N nods her head once, holding the towel tighter around her body and trying desperately not to shiver loudly when the door swings open and cold air seeps into the room. She's on his tail, trying to keep the sound of her feet quiet as they start down an expansive hallway, but she has no time to gawk at the expensive chandeliers nor does she have time to see if she can find the curtain room, and have some clue if this was the house she had been in with Harry before all of this happened. Harry was quick on his feet and wanted to get to his room fast, and when she wasn't going at his pace he reaches back, grabs her wrists and yanks her forward to go a bit faster.
By the time they actually reach his room, she's panting and pissed off, "Jeez," she wheezes, pulling the towel back to it's original position as it had fallen some with the movement. Harry doesn't bother to see how she is doing, instead he's digging through his drawers before pulling out a plain shirt and a pair of his own underwear before tossing it at her.
Y/N takes the clothes it sets off to a corner to change, "Why'd you put me in the tub anyways?" Letting the towel drop, she pulls the shirt on first before grabbing the boxers, putting a hand on the wall to steady herself so she doesn't fall trying to put them on.
"I'm a monster, but not that much of a monster," Harry tells her, "And I wanted to know why my mark was on your neck, so you couldn't die yet. 'Sides," he turns around after shifting the clothing in his drawer back to it's place, "If you were going to die, I'd rather it be by my hand than the snow."
She gasps and he laughs, "I'm not g'na kill you anymore, Dummy. That was just before."
"You know in present time, you call me real cute pet names," she grumbles, climbing herself up onto his bed, "Like Petal and Poppet and whatnot, sometimes even Bunny."
Harry's nose wrinkles, "Huh, I must really like you then." Before adding, "Or I forgot your name."
Y/N grabs a pillow from behind her and chucks it at him, hitting him in the head.
She can't tell if this Harry's brashness is endearing or not.
"So how do you get back to your time?" Harry wonders aloud, taking the pillow and tossing it back on the bed, "Not that I don't like the company, but I was planning on getting laid and having a human laying up in here will – well, they'd probably want to share you and I'm not too keen on sharing." He pauses for a minute, twisting the blanket up in his hands, "You know, now that I think about it, I'd rather fuck you. Is that weird? Is it the whole time travel thing getting involved or something?"
"Dunno'," she answers to both, shrugging her shoulders, "I – I don't remember much...I could sort of hear them a little when I fell asleep but mostly just Harry's – your – voice, and it was like an echo in my head sort of? Or maybe I was just imagining it."
"Hm," he picks at his lip, "I wonder what I'm supposed to do with you 'till then." Y/N shrugs once more, before she watches his gaze fall onto her neck, "Do I get to bite you or is that against the rules?"
Y/N bites her cheek for a second, "I don't know that either."
"Well, what do you and me usually do when we're together? Aside from going out places, if you do that, that is – it won't work in this time frame though. I'm not sure how accepting they are in the future of interspecies relationships but they'd have you killed and nothing short of exile for me."
"We talk and eat a lot together, which is nice," she tells him, adding the next part quickly as his face falls, "But it's actually really nice and entertaining! You told me it was great, because it meant that I liked you because of your mind and not your money or something equally cheesy and cute."
With a hefty sigh, and a abandoned grumble of, "I have a human girlfriend and all we do is eat and talk, classic Styles, 10/10 you dick" towards his future self before nodding, "Alright then, I'll go get some food from the kitchen and then we can talk. Start getting some conversation topics in your head and we'll get this show on the road."
He lifts his hand up in a fist for her to pound him with, and she rolls her eyes as she does it but ultimately it makes her smile.
No matter the time period, Harry is still such a damn dork.
. . .
Liam is...unsettled, surely.
Y/N will come back with knowledge of something she shouldn't know about and that could change everything for Harry...everything for him as well. He can't say he hasn't gotten attached to the human; not in the way Harry has, but the part inside of him that still lingers with love for their kind. It's something he'd never admit aloud, especially after being so disgusted by them for such a long while, but before Sophia had done what she did Liam used to think humans were the most interesting creatures. He would interact with them, gain friends of the kind and record how they acted in different situations, or note what they would do in response to other's emotions. For example, he would pretend to be upset to see which humans would be empathetic, become sad themselves, ignore it, or do everything in their power to make him not so sad. Vampires don't discuss emotions as casually as humans do, it's something that's always intrigued him.
And for a little while, Y/N had helped him remember that fascination. Sparking it when he watches her interact with Harry or even when she just interacts with him; the way her eyes glimmer when Harry tells her he likes what she's wearing is often synonymous with the glimmer she gets when Harry tells her he's making baked potatoes for dinner, or the way she immediately tries to sort out a plan for Harry when he expresses his distaste for someone at work, or how she absently reaches for a part of Harry whether it be his fingers, his thigh, or the fabric of his clothing just to have something to hold onto. The way she says some things with such joy when really, if he thinks about it, no joy should be expressed so intensely, like "I saw this dog today, and it was just the cutest thing, with it's little nose and his little paws I wanted to smuggle him from the park" (and she totally would have if not the fact the woman walking the dog looked like she could take down an entire army with just her glare, so Y/N knows how to pick and choose her battles), or something similar.
He hopes she won't act differently, now that she knows what he is. If all works out the bond between the two will be too strong for her to think anything of it, which is the best case scenario.
The worst case scenario, even he doesn't want to think about.
Liam called Anya to let her know her missing lantern was with them and their current situation, to which she responded, "Ah, ah, no good. That Kristie has my fist coming to her." Before finding out that Y/N really shouldn't be in the past very long at all, a day or two at most, but he still calls and takes a few days off with Harry along with her schooling. When she comes back they'll have some explaining to do, and weaning her onto the ideas of vampires and the world she'll be exposed to. He also made some arrangements for Kristie to be taken care of in the next few hours, which he doesn't plan on letting Harry know about, considering he probably wants her sentenced to death or something of the sort. Especially after she'd admitted to sending that dark mass out to stalk Y/N.
He can only hope that things work out – that the bond remains too strong for even this to deter it – and given how head over heels Y/N was for Harry, then everything might go as planned.
But if he thinks about that too much, then the honest truth really hits him in the gut.
Sophia must have not loved him as much as he thought.
. . .
"You really love her, huh?" Kristie questions him at the brink of night (this would be around the time he and Y/N sat down to watch TV in his living room with a fire going, that she just loved to stoke), watching him with curious yet sad eyes as he continues drawing patterns into Y/N's arm though she can't feel them. It's more of a comfort thing for himself, he reckons, that feeling the warmth of her skin puts him at ease some when she's dead asleep.
Harry eyes her suspiciously, trying to find her motives for such a question. What does it matter to her?
"Yes." He finally answers, but he leaves it at that.
Her head tilts down and she's silent once more.
. . .
It turns out, Y/N finds, that it's easy to talk to this Harry just as it's easy to talk to her own. Sure his vocabulary has changed some, and he talks with his hands a lot more, and stares at her boobs a good amount, but it's still her Harry. They talk for hours and hours, about everything and nothing, about things that her Harry doesn't bother speaking about (like his love for Liam) and there are things he says that she bites her tongue not to give away the future for him (such as, "There's this bloke – Louis, his name is – he's a bit rough around the edges and I dunno if I should give him a chance") and sometimes he ventures in to talking about someone he's fucked, and he'll take a look at her before shaking his head and murmuring something like, "I bet I don't need anybody else though, 'cos I got you around. It won't even matter."
He doesn't admit to her what he was, but she starts weaving out some of her own ideas. Ones she's really spent no time delving into because it didn't seem to matter until now.
Harry is incredibly smooth with talking to people, he could get anyone to give him anything he wanted she finds, but he never tries to pull the wool over her eyes with that. He's cold all the time, to the touch, but warms when she's near him. His heartbeat is faint if she can even hear it at all. The sunlight doesn't bother him much, but sometimes she sees him rubbing at his skin, and she did find loads of Aloe in his bathroom cabinets once that he said was for sunburn. And he bites her neck – her bites her neck and it wards others to back off and...
...well fuck, Y/N used to read and watch Twilight religiously.
She knows what he is.
But she doesn't care – undead sucker of blood or not, she fell in love with Harry – she fell in love with a positively precious, kindhearted, and tentative person in the whole god damn world. It was who he was, and for her to decide she doesn't love him because of something like that – something that feels so small in the grand scheme of things – then that would've said she didn't love him at all. And she does, wholeheartedly. If Harry could look past her freezing cold toes, her obnoxious laugh, and her gassy Tuesday nights, then she could surely look past this even if it seems bad.
"Hey, you're staring," Harry tells her, arms wrapped around a pillow as he lays on his stomach, "I know I'm cute, but it's rude to stare."
Y/N's heart is full, upon this realization.
"I love – or I guess, future you – I have very deep feelings for and I just –" her fingertips tingle, body vibrating with such energy yet her consciousness is slipping out from beneath her, quickly and urgently and Harry's eyes grow wide.
"Are you okay?" He asks, and she feels the mattress sinking in and swallowing her and he's grabbing for her hands, squeezing them tight, "I really like you too!" He calls down, "I don't – I can't explain it but," his voice gets louder, like he's yelling over the roaring in her ears, "I can't wait to meet you in my time!"
Dark clouds suffocating her until everything is black around her, and she's gone again.
However, she wakes with a gasp, finding herself in Harry's room again but this time it's the room she's spent so many nights in. This is the room where she snuggled up to the person who made her feel like she'd won the world and then some. This is the room that she could spend the rest of her life in and still be happy as long as Harry was by her side; hell, she could live in a cave and still wouldn't mind it if it meant spending time with him. Her eyes focus in on her surroundings even more thoroughly, head snapping around, looking for that girl that had plagued her space with a smoky lantern and was she home, really?
"Baby?" A voice calls like a whimper, and she turns around to see Harry sitting besides her.
"Was that?" She starts, squeezing her eyes tight – it feels like a boulder is weighing on her head again, unshakeable, "You're – Harry I know." She rasps, "God I know, and I don't care. I love you – I love you no matter what you are and I hate that this sounds so much like a cliché teen drama but you know I'm a sucker for those just like I'm a sucker for you. You mean everything to me."
Harry gives her a cheek splitting grin, eyes getting all watery as he scoops her up in his arms and squeezes her so tight it knocks the wind out of her.
"I love you too."
. . .
The joy in Harry's heart is one that can not be explained so easily.
It's similar to the feeling someone would have if they could pocket a star, twinkling brightly in their pocket, rousing attention to strike conversations when they're lonely. Or if he were to walk into a dog café, and see thirty puppies flocking towards him with nothing but pure, unadulterated love in their eyes. Or living pay check to pay check, just to win the lottery and realize that for a while you can breathe. Or perhaps it is equivalent to that of longing after someone for so long and thinking you're unnoticed by them, but they smile at you one day and ask you on a date and your stomach fills with butterflies.
The happiness Harry feels is even greater than that. Greater than the highest mountains, greater than the moon above and the galaxy around it. It's greater than anything he's ever felt, and Harry has lived for more than 100 years.
Kristie is imprisoned and whatever she tries to say to them will be off record, and unsustainable in any sort of courtroom due to the extremity of her crimes (that were more severe given she'd done it to Harry). Yet even so, he doesn't think she'll be speaking much as she hadn't gone out kicking and screaming like he and Liam foresaw. No, instead she mutely let them chain with shackles and cart her off, with a final nod to Harry as if to say she's understanding she's lost. For a moment, he'd nearly had the gull to feel sorry for her – it was no secret she'd loved him to some extent...why that meant trying to hurt him, he wasn't so sure of – and she'd just spent the last few hours of her freedom watching him fret over a human. It was her own fault though, truthfully, and she was keen on the idea of killing the one person he loves so once he remembers that any pity he feels washes away.
Y/N knew what he was. She doesn't know the whole story, like his family or why they can't go out in public, but she doesn't seem to care at the moment. Telling him to tell her on his own time, when he's comfortable with it and she'll be there to listen because she wants to understand it. And that only makes his heart swell more, than instead of fearing what was unknown to her she wanted to explore it given it was a part of him and "I love all of you, so why wouldn't I want to know that part too?"
Surely these aren't their only obstacles, as Des is still in the picture and so is the rest of the vampire community who – apart from Liam – would be rather judgmental and hurtful towards Y/N if they'd ever found out she was with Harry.
He supposes they'll cross that bridge when they come to it.
"Hurry up!" Harry calls towards the kitchen, the movie they'd picked off Netflix is paused and his thumb is itching to hit the play button – it was a teeny drama that he wanted to absorbed in and pretend like he actually had normal problems like the ones in the story when he was younger. He picked it out and after a suitable amount of teasing, Y/N agreed and said she would go grab snacks for the both of them, but that felt like ages ago and as much as he loves her, she's a real slowpoke.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" She's got her arms full as she passes through the entryway, with the sweater she was wearing drooping around her shoulder while she attempts juggling a bowl of chips, soft chocolate chip cookies, what looks like a sandwich, and two tall glasses with something he can't really tell what it might be.
Harry eyes her skeptically, "What've you got to drink?"
Y/N smiles wide, setting everything down before thrusting the glass in his hand and he sees the red liquid and can quite literally smell the bitter taste of it without having to actually drink it.
Cranberry juice.
"If I've got to drink it, then so do you, I've decided. Vampires should worry about their health too."