Only Angel [h.s]

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

Isabel didn't say anything for a moment, as she picked up the toast and nibbled at the edge. Her heart pumped a little faster, seeing that Harry had cut off crust of her bread and made sure every inch was covered in butter. She hated the crust and when they were together Harry would always cut off the edge. 

"W-what happened?" 

His mouth stopped moving for a second, as he contemplated whether or not to tell her the truth or make her squirm a little more. Choosing the latter, Harry finished his mouthful before taking a sip of his coffee and smiled. 

"Your drunk ass phoned me, I picked you up brought you back. You changed, went to bed- don't worry, I slept in the guest room," he spoke, adding the fact he did sleep in the guest bedroom. He was sure it would freak Isabel out, despite his slight odd possessiveness over her, he would give her privacy and space. 

"You shouldn't let yourself get that drunk, I've told you before about the amount of alcohol you consume," Harry tutted her, reminding himself of the many occasions he had to pick up Isabel when they were together. The amount of times he held her hair back when she threw up. It wasn't that Isabel drank a lot, she was just a lightweight. 

Isabel felt relieved that Harry slept in a different bedroom, though she wondered if he let her sleep in their-his bedroom was a cruel reminder who he was. Who they use to be. She wasn't sure, it frightened her a little. 

Harry, taking another sip of his coffee, nodded his head for her to eat more. "I also had John track down your phone, it seems that some pathetic man took it. I've sent John to retrieve your bag, purse, phone and jacket," Harry spoke, taking it upon himself to find out where her phone went. 

"Thank you," Isabel whispered quietly, taking another bite of the breakfast before deciding she had enough. All she wanted was to go home, have a bath and crawl back into bed with a shit film and a lot of water. 

Silence over took them once again, as Harry watched the brunette across from him. Some would say he was an over possessive ex boyfriend who couldn't get the hint. But Isabel was different from anyone, any one night stand or previous flings; so when she left it was safe to say that hurt like a bitch. 

Isabel was everything good in his life, in his dark twisted and corrupted life. She was innocent at first, gentle and kind. Even when they grew together, she reminded him that she was everything good in his life, everything that kept him stable. Then she disappeared. Though it took only a week or two to track her down, Harry let her live her life. He once convinced himself that he could live without her, just turned out that was far from it. He couldn't, it was like she was his oxygen. His reason to live. 

So after letting her believe she was free, he made his move. It was a dick move, Harry knew that but she was back. Yes she wasn't quite his, but she was back in the same city. She worked for him, and he had access to her. Not that Isabel would be so willing to be back in his arms, it would only be a matter of time. After all, who could resist him? 

As for the brunette, Harry was far from what she wanted or thought. He was bad for her, he was the reason she didn't want to live at one point. Not literally, but live the life she did. Everything around her was a lie, an elaborate plot and twisted game. It was fake not reality. The reality was, that she had fallen in love with perhaps one of the most powerful and dangerous men in the game. A game she didn't intend on playing. 

Yet it was moments like this, where she was reminded of a hint of happiness. A reminder of his gentle nature towards her. That he picked her up while she was intoxicated, that even now after years he still cut the crusts of her toast. But she was also reminded by the fading fingertips around her throat, the other reason why she left.