n/ hey,
don't lose hope
- zeffervescent
I stood light-headed. Half perplexed and half relieved, I take a seat on the chair in the nearest corner. My lips are slightly parted, though the air that exhales from the crevice is next to impossible to hear.
For those thirteen hours I avoid conversation, even with Marco and our new found "friendship". The term feels strange, because I have never used it to describe anyone. I can't really coincide that label with another person.
I trail the tip of my index finger across the pillows for hours until my eyes begin to feel heavy. The dullness of the hour lulls me to an uncomfortable sleep, where my neck is at an odd angle and my limbs feel like pieces of meat on hardwood.
For how long I sleep is beyond my understanding as I wake and there is no light from the curtains and the lights are off. I have been sleeping for so long, and still I long for it because I've got nothing but the company of my unbearable thoughts.
The door creaks open. I don't react. It's like my body's voluntary muscles are ignored by the nerve signals that spiral down my spine. I hear light, dull footsteps as I shift and lay on my stomach, head rested on the pillows. My cheek pressed against the soft cushion.
His footsteps follow a direct path across the room where I hear shuffling. An almost inaudible groan escapes his lips and I know for a fact that it's one of discomfort and possibly pain. Injury.
He knows I'm awake just like he knows everything else.
I spend the next three minutes listening to his movement until he reaches the bed on the empty side. I lift the blanket for him to slide in, and he soundlessly does so.
We don't speak as he settles beside me, and up until that point I didn't understand what it really meant to feel comfortable with another person. To the point where you don't have to say anything to speak.
My concern sticks through like the only beacon of light in this bedroom. I feel his warm skin beneath his palm and the rise and fall of his chest. He's alive and here with me. I've never had to worry so much over someone else's life.
"Where are you hurt?" I softly questioned, beginning to sit up, though he pulls me down and lays me into him.
"I'm fine. I just want to stay in silence," he murmured huskily. His voice brings the urge to worry to a halt. I only feel his thumb trace the outline of my lips in the dark.
I can't control myself as I lean forward and luckily aim directly to his lips. He kisses me back, and although they're short, and soft, they're those urgent kisses that hold my sanity by a thread; a thread that would be cut if they were to go missing.
My voice falters as I whisper, "I'm so glad you're okay."
Harry silences me with another slow kiss. He pulls the blankets over us and huddles us in the warmth of both of our bodies. I have to feel the physical form of his being to know that he's here, and I can only imagine what's it like in his mind. Though while I try to understand him, I only end up falling more in love with him.
+
Nothing but my body's restlessness woke me up the next morning. I rose and barely had time to question where the strong arms and body that held me disappeared to as someone knocked on the bedroom door.
I got up and waited by the door, feet nearly dragging against the floor in my lethargic state. When I opened the door slightly, I received no one but the air in the halls.
My eyebrows furrowed. I had to be going nuts. I groaned and faintly remembered Harry's arrival in the midst of my exhaustion. Was he really here or did I just imagine all of that?
I turn and lay on my back, staring endlessly at the ceiling. There was silence up until the moment the door opens, and in comes the man I've been restless to see in light. He's dressed in black, a newly healing gash on the very end of his eyebrow.
Light bruises are sprinkled across his jaw, though he looks as pissed off as usual when he walks in, shoving a gun in his back pocket.
I sit up and watch him quietly. He gazes down at me and crosses his arms over his chest.
"Your father just killed three of our guys for making jokes about you, sexually," Harry informs me.
My lips part. "What? That's aw --"
"I encouraged him."
"- ful..." I mutter quietly. Harry clenches his jaw. I sigh as I ask, "You didn't tell my dad anything, right?"
"No...but I should have. I should have told him your ass was perched up on the bathroom sink for me a few days ago," Harry bluntly confesses, not reacting with much emotion when I slightly blush.
I'm not even half-shocked by his words. They're regular things for Harry.
He turns before I respond and begins to search through a drawer. "How is the plan going?" I question out of interest, getting off the bed.
"At this point I highly doubt we even need one. It seems too easy. He's at an obvious location, and so far no one's been after you. Seems like he wants us to find him. I'd know," he explains, back to me.
I walk towards him, standing at his side to get a look at his face while we speak. I have more assurance he isn't lying to me when I'm able to look at his face, though even then, I'm sure he can lie to me anyway. It discourages me.
"Where is he?" I inquire.
"His last purchase was in Cape Verde. He was always there whenever he knew things were about to get quite unstable. What doesn't make sense is, he knows I'm working for your father, though he makes it easy for me to find him," he mutters.
I frown. "You think that's it? He wants you to find him? Then what?"
He shrugs. "Probably one of his tricks. I don't know what's going on anymore."
Despite his words, I continue to wonder. "I don't get it...how would he know you were going to go to the bank in Paris to find information on him, and around the exact time, he'd buy something to make his location even more obvious?"
"Only one option. There's one of Fray's guys present here. One that's pretty good at knowing the details."
"It could be Niall," I suggest. "He came up with it all."
"No. Don't think so. But don't worry about that now. I've got plans of my own. I helped your father get what he wants, and now I've got to go for what I want," Harry tells me huskily.
I watch him intentively. "What? Plans of your own? What does that mean?"
"I'm not following your father's demands because he's wrong and he won't listen to me, considering he wants to play it safe. My opinion doesn't have the same effect as it had before. Fray may be his brother, but there are things that twenty years can provoke."
He continues. "He's not stupid. Neither is your father, but he can't compete. Fray's got too many steps ahead already."
My eyes lock with his as I process his words. Our gaze is intense as silence grows, but I break it with my words.
"How many steps?"
"More than you know. More than I know," he rasps.
I purse my lips. "Yeah? What's your plan then? And can you please leave out the lies this time?"
"I don't know why you insist. There's no way in hell you're coming along."
"Just tell me," I gently plead, moving in between him and the dresser. My arms wrap around his neck as I pull him closer to my body. His pale green eyes gaze at me, knowingly.
Harry sighs and murmurs, "I don't have one yet. Though I know that it's not your dad's which I'll follow. I need to find out information by myself."
I nod slowly. "I'll help you with at least the information. Who else knows the codes to my dad's office safe?"
I watch his plump, pink lips curve into a very faint smirk. "You know the codes?"
"I happen to know codes to a lot of things," I tell him, leaning up on my toes to bring my face closer to his. "So what's first?"
n/ was kinda boring, sorry. tired. very tired. hopefully i'll update soon. thanks for reading.
follow my pathetic twitter @zeffervescent
don't lose faith