"Liar," he said, his voice dark as he stared at me through pitch black eyes. I was beginning to grow tired of the constant darkness present there. I wanted to see what they really looked like. I wanted to see him happy and smiling. Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen him smile or heard him laugh once. Mission accepted.
"I..." I trailed off. I had no response. What was I supposed to say? Oh, yes Harry, I'm lying through my teeth right now.
"Tell me what's wrong," he urged, walking closer to the side of the bed. My face flushed with red again and I quickly looked toward the blank tan wall.
He waited silently, and I knew I would have to answer eventually.
"Could you just... put on some pants please?" I mumbled almost inaudibly, my eyes still carefully averted.
His quiet laugh made my head snap back over to look at him and my mouth almost fell open at the beautiful smile on his face. He had dimples. Dimples. Well, if I wasn't screwed before I definitely am now. Dimples. Goodness.
But his eyes were still dark, and that bothered me.
"Do I make you nervous?" His voice was low, but for once it didn't hold a depth of danger to it. More like humor. A dark humor, possibly, but still humor.
"No," I lied, struggling to keep my voice smooth.
"Liar," he repeated, but a grin was on his lips, those beautiful dimples slicing into his cheeks.
I pointedly turned my head again, no longer wanting to have this conversation. It was going down a path that I didn't like very much. I was too sensitive for this, and though I hated that fact, I couldn't just erase it.
"Alice." His voice had lost it's soft, humorous edge. I ignored him.
"Look at me." It wasn't a request. It was a command.
I unwillingly glanced back at him, my pale blue eyes connecting with his dark green ones. His smile was gone now, replaced by a more serious expression. "Did I make you uncomfortable?" His words surprised me, because they weren't mocking or amused. They were completely serious, all humor gone.
"Yes," I answered truthfully. He could obviously tell when I lied. There was no point.
"I'm sorry." His voice was sincere, and I felt my eyes widen. I hadn't expected an apology. It wasn't his fault that I was so bothered by the little things. In a way, it was my fault. I had stayed with Seth, and Seth had inflicted so many physical andmental wounds on me. But I should have left. I should have told Elijah or Shane or someone, and then I should have gotten out.
My eyes dropped from his and I looked down at the red duvet. "It's fine."
He didn't answer. I heard his footsteps as he walked into the walk-in closet and swung the door shut behind him, giving me a few minutes to breathe without his intense gaze on me.
I had so many questions, but they wouldn't fall off my tongue. I wanted to know what was going on above anything else. Why had Harry brought me back to his home? What had happened back at my work? Was I ever going to be allowed to leave? Would I ever get out of this mess that was slowly forming around me?
Harry walked back out then, interrupting my train of thought. My eyes traced over him. He now wore an old Pink Floyd shirt paired with black skinny jeans.
"I like Pink Floyd," I commented, gesturing to the shirt. He looked down and a brief smile flashed on his face. "Do you?"
"Yeah, they're one of my favorite bands actually," I explained. I suddenly blushed again as his intense gaze once again returned to watching my face. "Mine too."
