Fifty Shades of Him (h.s. au)

III

"You far exceed any expectation I've held for anyone in a long time. There is so much about people now that give into society and you seem on the low. Being on the low shows strength and compassion; two elements of a person much too hard to find in current times. Thinking differently doesn't make you yourself different. It means you think better than majority of the population."

His words cause a smile to pass my lips, my eyes staying with his as I talk to him.

"There isn't much to me besides the information I've already dumped onto you," I say, his fork placing on the empty plate.

"But there is. There are loads of lifestyle behind a person."

"If that's true, name something completely shocking about yourself," I say after dragging the napkin over my lips.

"I have over fifty tattoos," he says, my eyes widening then closing due to the amount of endured shock.

He smiles at my reaction, a small laugh escaping his lips. "How can you possibly have fifty tattoos?"

"I got them when I was younger. I haven't imprinted my body with such things since I was around 20. My life completely changed that year."

"Tell me about it," I say, his eyes looking at his plate as a sigh passes his lips.

"It's not something I'm proud of," he states, my shoulders shrugging.

"Is it worse than an abusive father?"

The pained expression on his face shows sympathy for my pathetic life, his head shaking.

"Quite the opposite, actually."

He stands and extends his hand towards me, my body standing from the chair. His hand is warm as it encases mine, our feet walking back to his office.

"There isn't an easy way to talk about my life back then, and I find myself at a loss. It's nothing you did; I can't bring myself to speak of those years," he says, letting go of my hand to retrieve my bag from the floor.

"I understand. But for future reference, I'm not one to tell secrets. I still hold one from when I was seven."

He smiles and hands me my bag, retrieving something as well. "Here. It's my phone number. For when I need to meet with you."

I nod and he grabs his suit coat, shrugging it on and grabbing his keys. We exit the house and he opens the car door for me, my body sitting and his doing the same. He drives out of the garage and past the gate, speeding down the streets to my apartment building.

"Is this place you live in safe?" he questions, my shoulders shrugging.

"There is an occasional man that will come up to me and try to get me to do things, but normally no."

"What do you do in that type of situation?" he asks, his grip on the wheel noticeably tightening. Is this angering him?

"I would tell him I'd call the police but he finds it funny. Then I'd do something to distract him, kick them or spit, and run into my apartment."

"That's not very safe."

His low grumble has me wondering if he is actually bothered by the fact that a man has made contact with me at night. The displeased look upon Harry's features tells me my assumption is most likely correct.

"But I can't do anything about it."

He frowns and I point to the side of the road in front of the building, his hands steering the wheel to pull off the road.

"I will call you soon. For the story," I say, his head nodding.

"It was a pleasure having you with me tonight," he says, pulling a smile.