My alarm wakes me at the usual time it does, forcing me to open my eyes. Still weary from my nap I reach for my phone on my nightstand, checking if it's actually time to wake up.
11 P.M. Time to get up.
Unplugging my phone I leave my bed, and quickly put on a sweatshirt. Slowly, to avoid making any sound, I open the door of my bedroom, and on my tippy toes I make my way to the living room and kitchen.
As I cross Harry's new proclaimed room, the door closed, I hold my breath and pray he doesn't hear me leaving my room. Although he seemed confused when I announced I was going to sleep at 5 P.M, he luckily didn't ask any questions. He probably thought I was just going to my room to avoid seeing or talking to him, but the truth is a little bit more complicated, and certainly none of his business.
Arriving in our big kitchen, I make myself a bowl of cereal and go to the living room. I haven't eaten since noon before Harry arrived, and can feel my stomach desperately begging for food. I should probably cook something decent, given the hours I haven't had a proper meal, but I'm way too tired to make an actual effort, and not in the mood.
Plopping down on the couch, I take the remote control and turn on the flatscreen TV. Sinking into the pillows I eat my cereal and put on some old episode of Friends I've probably already seen about a hundred times. It's perfect way to get started with the night, if you ask me.
Only after only a few minutes, I hear a door opening down the hallway, and I almost want to throw my bowl across the room from frustration. Great, looks like Mr Bodyguard has awakened after all. I guess that's it for a peaceful night without questions.
Harry appears in the living room, in a black hoodie and sweats, rubbing his eyes. Even though they're barely opened, the emerald color is still brighter than any eye color I've ever seen before. His hair is even messier than before, curls tangled around his face from twisting and turning.
Slowly, his eyes still squinting, he puts his hands on his hips. "Why.. Why are you up?" He sounds confused, his mind not seeming to fully function like it's supposed to do. "I don't understand. Now would be a normal time to sleep, instead of 4 P.M."
"How did you even hear me? I wasn't that loud," I mumble, avoiding his previous question.
He takes his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants and holds it up. "Tracker got activated. I thought you were gonna pull another runaway."
Fuck, I forgot about that damn tracker. I have to say it's pretty creative of Papà, he definitely knows me too well.
I gesture around with my arms wide open. "Well, as you can see, I'm just sitting on my couch, so you should go back to sleep." I'm not in the mood for company, and certainly not his.
But of course, he ignores my suggestion and sits down on the other end of the couch. After frustratedly sighing but seeing Harry isn't budging, I decide ignoring him is my best shot at getting him back to his room as quickly as possible. I'm going to be here for a while and he's practically falling asleep, so he'll probably give up soon and return to his bed. Hopefully.
Right as I'm about to focus back on my cereal and Friends, he clears his throat. As I quickly glance at him, I see he has raised one of his eyebrows and has a playful grin on his lips. "Are you going to give me an explanation or should I just guess?"
I sigh, grabbing the remote control again and turning up the volume. If this doesn't make clear I want him to shut up, then I don't know what will.
But of course, he's stubborn. "Sounds like the second one," he smirked.
I expect him to start guessing now, but he stays quiet for a moment, zoned out staring at the TV.
"You really should eat something decent. You didn't have diner," he says after awhile, eyes still focused in front of him.
I can't keep myself from staring at him for a moment, shocked to say the least, and see his face isn't showing any emotion, let alone he's mocking me. He's deadly serious. This is new, and definitely doesn't sound like the Harry from before.
"I have cereal," I manage to mutter.
He shakes his head with a smile, but still doesn't look at me. "That's not decent. Francesca told me she put your food in the fridge. It's spaghetti, and I thought it was great. Francesca is a good cook, and a nice lady."
I frown. Looks like he's already friends with the housekeeper. Great.
Why is he suddenly so nice? One moment all he does is mock me and looks like he wants to kill me, and now he's literally convincing me to eat.
I put down my bowl of cereal on the coffee table. "I'm not hungry anyway, so no thanks."
He laughs to himself again, but doesn't make a comment this time. He just sits back, eyes on the screen.
After a few minutes of Harry watching TV, not making any effort to leave, I've had enough. I can't stand just sitting and watching my show when he's here. I sigh and grab the remote control to turn off the TV, followed by getting up to head back to my room. If I can't focus on Friends, I'll have to find another way to keep my busy and distracted from Harry, otherwise I'll go insane.
"Where are you going?" I hear him calling from the living space, with an unfamiliar worried tone is his voice. Why is this dude so confusing?
Instead of answering I quickly grab my school bag and head back to the living room. "Chill, I was just grabbing my stuff."
Flopping back on the couch I cross my legs and take out my economics notes and homework. I try focusing on the words written down, but can sense him staring at me, following every movement I'm making. It gets me uncomfortable, and is slowly driving me nuts. How am I supposed to do anything with this creepy guy by my side?
"What are you doing?" he curiously asked, with a voice that makes me want to smack his head with my notebook. He's just getting way too noisy now, making me decide I way prefer the cold Harry.
"Homework," I shortly state, while taking a pencil to start working.
"At 11 P.M?"
I sigh, trying to block his voice out of my head. "Yes."
After that he stays quiet, what feels like the first time in ages, but keeps staring. I try focusing on the letters dancing in front of my eyes, but can't. His gaze feels like it's all over my body.
Frustrated I throw my notebook next to me. This isn't going to work. "Can't you just leave me alone and go back to sleep?" I snap, ready to poke his eyes out with my pencil.
But Harry just looks amused. "Nah, I'm good," he says while plumbing the pillows behind him, clearly making himself comfortable on the couch. He's definitely doing this to annoy me, I can't think of another reason.
Well, you did try to run away earlier.
"Dio mio," I mutter, contemplating my options on what to do. I could ignore him, not answering any questions he'll keep on asking, with the possibility of him sitting here next to me for the rest of the night, and every night following for six months. Or, I could give him an explanation, one short and without any details, hoping he'd leave me alone.
I know the last option is truly the only one.
I sigh and throw my head back, hating the fact I have to give him his way. "I don't sleep at night. I sleep from 4 to 11, and that's it. Now leave me the fuck alone, you've had your explanation."
The corners of his mouth curl up, a devilish grin appearing. "Your dad mentioned something like that."
Anger starts boiling in my veins, and I feel like I'm going to explode any second. Is this guy serious? He literally knows about my whole sleeping issue and still acts like this? Talk about being noisy, and being a total dickhead.
I decide not to show him any of my anger, because that's just going to please him. "Great," I shortly say. "Goodnight."
He smirks, running his hand through his curls. It seems like he isn't satisfied yet.
And I'm right, because after only thirty seconds the questioning starts again. "Why don't you? What's the fun of sleeping in the evening when everybody's awake and staying up when everybody's asleep? Doesn't make sense to me."
"Well, luckily I don't have to make sense to you, and I definitely don't owe you any explanation." I grab all my books together and stand up from the couch. "And if you don't leave, I will. Goodnight." I'm absolutely exhausted of this, and getting tired is truly the last thing I want. I still have a whole night ahead of me.
"Wait," he stops me in my tracks, as I turn back around. Surprisingly he isn't smirking or anything, he looks quite serious now.
"At least eat something before you go. I could make you some food if you don't want Francesca's spaghetti."
My eyebrows furrow with confusion. "Why would you do that?"
He just shrugged. "Your dad told me you can't use the stove on your own, and I don't think he'd appreciate me letting you starve. So, what do you say, scrambled eggs?"
"I told you I'm not hungry..," I start, but at the same moment my stomach growls loudly. It's quite embarrassing, something you'd think would only happen in movies, but of course it does now.
Harry bursts out laughing, a sound I haven't heard from him before. "I don't believe a single bit of it. Come on, I insist."
I hesitate for a moment, but my hunger wins. "Fine. Only if you promise to go back to sleep after."
"Deal." He reaches his hand hand out with raised eyebrows, to officiate the deal. Rolling my eyes I shake his hand.
He follows it up with a grin and makes his way to the kitchen, as I quickly follow him. Why is he suddenly this nice? His whole mood swinging thing is starting to scare me.
Arriving in the kitchen I sit back at the table, as I watch him grabbing his necessities from the fridge. It's weird to see him, a total stranger, acting like this is his home. How did that even happen so fast? He's literally only been here for half a day.
His sudden voice wakes me up from my thoughts. "Your dad is quite protective, isn't he?" He's putting the eggs, along with some butter, in a pan, his back facing me, so I can't see his face expression.
I play with my necklace, to keep my hands from uselessly fidgeting. "Why would you think that?"
"Why wouldn't I think that? You can't use a stove, have a tracker on your phone, and oh, I almost forgot, you have a literal bodyguard."
I contemplate what to say next, since this is becoming dangerous territory. But then I remember Papà's words, about how Harry is informed about our Famiglia, and I probably wouldn't spill secrets he isn't supposed to know.
I decide to play it safe though. "How much do you know? About my father?"
He shrugs, stirring the eggs with a spatula and adding some salt. "I know about the mafia thing, and that he's quite the man, so I guess a lot."
I can't help but chuckle a little. He thinks that is a lot? Just that he's in the mafia, and quite the man? Naive.
I like keeping him in the dark though, and knowing I know things he doesn't, so decide to not give him any explanation, one he wouldn't be worthy of anyway. "I think that answers enough, don't you? He wouldn't be this protective if he had any other choice."
"Does it bother you?"
"Sometimes."
"Has he always been this way?"
"You do ask quite a lot of questions, do you know that?" I say as he turns around and hands me a plate with the eggs. They do look good, I have to admit.
"I'm just trying to get to know you, Ellie." And there's that smirk again, his eyes becoming dark all over. I guess normal Harry is back.
"It's Elena." I take the plate from him, as he sits down in front of me. "But thanks."
And before he can asks anything else, I hork down the eggs. Mainly to avoid any more questions, but also because I only notice now how hungry I actually am, and I have to admit these eggs are absolutely incredible, way better than any I've had before. Not that I would ever tell him that.
It only takes seconds for me to finish the food, and when I'm done, I look right up to Harry's stunned face. My cheeks start to burn a little, probably turning a bright shade of crimson, from him staring at me, totally shocked.
His eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. "That was.. impressive. Where'd you learn how to eat like that?"
I shrug, keeping my head down staring at my plate to hide my red cheeks. "Grew up with two boys. I had to secure my food, or else I had nothing."
I can't help smiling a little, thinking back of the childhood I shared with Niall and Louis. If he thinks this is eating fast, then he should see Niall. That guy could consume anything you give him in record time.
"Two boys, huh? Those two fellas who kidnapped you earlier?" A corner of his mouth lifts, and the amused expression returns. This guy is suffering from some real mood swings, and I'm not sure I can handle that.
"They didn't kidnap me. Those wussies are too scared of Papà to do anything like that," I chuckle.
They really are, otherwise they wouldn't have practically thrown me out of the car before. I've never really understood why they think Papà is that scary, they know him well enough. Sure, he is Il Capo, but he's also just their best friend's dad. My dad.
My thoughts drift away, and the wandering smile disappears off my face, thinking of him. I wonder what Papà is doing right now, miles away from me in Italy. I'm not sure I even want to know.
Harry's sudden voice startles me. "Do you miss him?"
I'm immediately back in reality, my head snapping in his direction. With piercing eyes I stare into his, trying to make clear I don't like questions like this.
"He'll be back," I say point-black. That's all he needs to know.
But again, it's not enough for Mr Noisy. "Does he go away this long often?"
"And here we go with the questioning." I shake my head, shoving the empty plate away from me. "I think I've answered enough for today. Or for six months."
I stand up from my chair, crossing my arms. "I ate the food, so now you have to go back to sleep. Remember?
"Alright, alright," he laughs, defensively holding his hands up. "I'll go to sleep. Goodnight."
And with those words he leaves the kitchen, but not without looking over his shoulder one last time. He softly smiles, and shakes his head in disbelief, like I'm a mystery he can't figure out. Maybe I am. But what did he expect after one day?
After he heads back to his room, I decide to go to the living room again to finish my homework. Putting the TV back on for background noise, I sit down again and makes myself comfortably with my notebook back on my lap. As my pen hovers over the pages, my thoughts wander back to Harry's words.
Do you miss him?
Without thinking twice, I reach for my phone, searching for Papà's number and waiting patiently as the ringer goes.
"This is Antonio Dal Sante's voicemail. Leave a message."
I sigh. It's not like I expected anything else, but still. It would've been nice if he answered for once.
"Hi, uhm, Papà? I hope you arrived well. Call me back when you're able."
I hesitate for a moment.
"I miss you."
No perspective
Ellie didn't notice Harry standing around the corner, carefully hiding and hearing every word she's mumbling to the answering machine. He couldn't help smiling, and thinking one simple thing.
Everybody has a soft spot. A weakness, some may even say.
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A/N: Hope you liked this chapter! What are you thinking of this story so far? Let me know your thoughts <3
X Sky