Chapter Six
"Here you go," Ana cooed to baby Harry, setting a plate of baby food set out before him. She had went off to fill him up a drink, deciding on giving him some juice. Their fridge was pretty much empty by now, but luckily, they just had enough juice for Harry. Ana put on a bright smile as she walked back to Harry, who, to her dismay, had yet to take his pacifier out of his mouth. His wide, green eyes were watching her intently, his wide, baby cheeks flushed from her trying to teach him how to walk earlier.
He still stumbled here and there, though Ana could see that his legs were getting stronger by each and every day. This was the sole reason why she really, really wanted to have him drink milk, but they didn't have any right now.
"Here's some juice," She said chirpily, holding back a wince when she accidentally bumped into the counter too hard where a bruise was. She hid the pain easily underneath her son's watching gaze, not wanting him to know she was in pain.
"I want you to eat, okay?" She said, pointing to the food. She glanced back at the clock-she had no idea when her husband was to return. He hadn't been at the house in two days now, and he was bound to return sometime. She sighed before tucking a dark curl behind her ear, "Please eat for me? Here, let Mommy help you."
She reached forward to take the pacifier from his mouth, and as soon as it came out, Harry started to wail. His face twisted, and his mouth opened to let out a disagreeing scream. His little legs kicked against the seat, his arms flailing, trying to reach for his beloved pacifier. Ana felt terrible, but she had to have Harry sucking on his pacifier more than normal. When Daryl was home, he didn't want to hear a baby crying or screaming, so basically, the pacifier was what was keeping her baby boy safe. Ana hated seeing him like this; she felt like some kind of bully, taking something like this from him. But he was a growing boy, and he needed to eat.
"Go on, Hazza, eat," Ana urged over his wailing, putting the pacifier away on the counter. He only continued to wail, his voice going right through her, his emerald eyes now a bright red from crying. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was searching aimlessly for the pacifier.
"Shh," She said, reaching forward to dab at his small cheeks with a napkin to dry his tears. "Don't cry, baby boy, okay? I just want you to eat. The sooner you eat, the sooner you get your pacifier." She put on a smile, knowing he didn't understand a word she said. She picked up the spoon and shoveled a good amount of baby food, holding it up so he could see it.
"Open your mouth," She instructed gently. His mouth technically was open, but she wasn't going to dump food in it while he was full-on screaming right now.
A car door closed outside, and Ana froze, her head turning to peer through the window. She barely caught a glimpse of her husband getting out of the car, heading towards the house.
Shit.
Ana dropped the spoon of food and scrambled for the pacifier; her breathing had picked up, her heart beat accelerating. If Daryl had walked in here to find a wailing Harry, surely he would have a cow.
She popped the pacifier in Harry's mouth, and the boy immediately stopped crying. He sucked on it in content, his body stilling after he finally got back what he wanted. Ana knew he was a stubborn boy; he wouldn't stop fighting until he got what he wanted.
"I'll feed you later," She whispered, pulling him out of the chair and dashing into the back bedroom. She set Harry in his crib, pulling the bars up and running a hand through his curly hair. He had been born with a thick head of hair; some babies were born bald or with thin hair. Her baby boy was born with curls, and he was her little angel.
Harry giggled from the crib, rolling so he was holding up his foot, his hand holding it up. His green eyes were bubbly again as he stared up at his mother, and like many times before, Ana couldn't leave him. She beamed down at her little ray of sunshine, unable to just leave him there when he looked so happy.
Harry opened his mouth and his pacifier came out. His little hand went reaching for it, and as he held it up, he happily declared his first coherent word he had ever spoken:
"Mine."
I woke up when I felt movement next to me. I peered over my shoulder to see Harry's back turned to me; even in the darkness, I could see how tense his back muscles were. His body shuddered a little, and suddenly, he rolled so he was facing me.
His face was twisted in discomfort, his eyebrows scrunched together. His lips were set in a tight scowl, and it looked like he was having a really bad nightmare. I watched him for a few seconds, wondering if I should just wake him, or wondering if he would be angry if I woke him.
Harry had been here for 4 days now. I wasn't exactly counting the days, but at night, I would wonder how long he had been here. Yesterday Perrie and I purchased the two apartments on either side of us, so now it was me, Harry, Louis, and Eleanor living in this one, with Perrie and Fran living in the room next to us and Zayn, Niall, and Liam living in the other ones. I didn't think the boys were too worried if Fran or Perrie ran off-they didn't seem to worried about it. But it was obvious they weren't having Eleanor or I running off, since they had Louis and Harry booking with us.
I haven't had Harry get angry with me over these 4 days. For the most part, he actually seemed to busy to mess with that, and I was smart enough to know how to behave in his presence. Eleanor and I knew fully well that the boys were planning something; they weren't telling us what they were planning, but they told us to stay put in one of our rooms when they had their talks. Fran and Claire mostly stayed in their own apartment, and I had a feeling they were able to go on and about their jobs, with the threat of the boys killing either one of them if they told anyone. The two girls did have the strict rule that someone had to be here, just so that threat remained plausible.
I shook Harry's shoulder when I felt him shuffle his legs, giving a wary kick at the blankets. I started shaking him harder when his face twisted even more, and I leaned up on an elbow to really shake him.
"Harry," I whispered, my voice heavy with sleep, "wake up. You're having a bad dream."
His green eyes flickered open, and they were immediately on me. For a moment, he was frozen. He was probably still escaping his nightmare-caught in between the dream world and reality. When he realized it was just a dream and that he was awake, his body visibly relaxed, his shoulder loosening under my touch.
"Are you okay?" I asked quietly, laying back down and pulling back my hand.
He shifted a little, pulling the blankets tighter against his bare chest. "I'm fine, go back to sleep."
My eyes remained open as his remained open, also. "Would you like to talk about it?"
I thought he was going to say no. He stared at me for a few seconds, a few loose curls hanging over his eyes. He didn't brush them away; he just let them dangle there. After a few moments, he murmured, "It wasn't a bad dream."
So why did he look so uncomfortable? He looked...pained almost, like he was in pain while having his dream.
I was going to ask him to elaborate, but I stayed still when his large hand reached out and pulled a few stray hairs from my face. My breathing was soft, barely audible in the still darkness all around us. It was times like these when I almost seemed to forget the fact that I was in bed with a man who used to be the most feared in London. People used to be terrified just at the sight of Harry. And here I was, sleeping with him in the same bed.
"Do you still trust me?" Harry asked, barely above a whisper.
He could push me right now and here, and I would cease to exist. Hell, I could push myself back and this whole thing would be over.
Harry's lips then brushed against mine, softly, almost hesitantly. I could taste the wine on his lips, and I realized that was what I tasted earlier. He deepened the kiss, and my heart jolted when I felt him pushing against me.
My hands quickly wrapped around his neck as he pushed me even further. My back bent, hanging over the edge of the building, and my legs tightened around his waist. He was literally the only thing that was keeping me alive right now.
He won't push me...he won't let me go...
"Do you still trust me?"
I remembered the night, on the anniversary of One Direction when I dined with the gang to celebrate. I remembered going up on the roof and telling Harry I trusted him. It led to me dangling halfway off the side of the roof, with his arms holding me up. I trusted him then.
Did I trust him now?
Fourteen days wasn't a long time for a separation from Harry for me, although it did feel like forever, since I thought he was dead. I was basically torn; I had to try and move on with my life, while remembering who I had previously been associated with. Harry was honestly one of the most complex human beings I had ever gotten to know. I...I really didn't know how to feel anymore.
"You said you trusted me that night," Harry rasped, his rough fingers rubbing patterns on my softer cheek, "did you mean it? Do you still trust me?"
"What does it matter?" Why should he care if I trusted him or not?
His eyes darkened at my response-it had not been what he wanted. He wanted me to come out and say the truth, whether it was a good response or not; he didn't want me answering his question with a question. But I held my ground. If he expected me to be perfectly fine with this whole...arrangement, then he had another thing coming.
"You're right," He mumbled, pulling away, his eyes breaking from mine, "I guess it doesn't matter."
"Harry," I protested quietly, letting out a sigh as he turned his back on me.
"Go to sleep."
"Why do you have to be so difficult?"
"Go to sleep, Claire."
I sat up on the bed, the bed creaking under my sudden movement, and I threw the covers off of me. I had spent 4 days, with Harry telling me what to do. With Harry telling me what I was allowed to eat. It all was according to what Harry said, and honestly, it was getting frustrating.
Harry turned to peer over his shoulder just as I threw my legs over the side of the bed. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm going to sleep with Eleanor and Louis." I stated matter-of-factly. I was slowly making my way through the dark, and I let out a yelp when my toe hit the bottom of the bed. I had to pause a little, bending down to gingerly touch my throbbing toe. I hated it when I stubbed my toe-it hurt like hell.
"No you're not," I heard Harry shift in the bed, and this caused me to move faster. I suddenly didn't care if I hit anything in the dark; I was focused on gaining some kind of independence back. And just as I reached for the door, Harry grabbed my wrist, pulling me back against him. He was only wearing his dark boxers, since that was his usual attire to bed. It was nearly impossible to get him to wear anything else.
"I said no, Claire," Harry snapped irritably, tugging me back towards the bed.
"Damn it," I cursed, pushing against him. Sadly, Harry was strong, much stronger than I was. It was futile pushing against him. Just as he successfully pushed me back onto the bed, I asked, "Why can't you just let me go?"
When I asked this, it was a very vague question. I didn't mean just now-I meant from the very beginning. From the very beginning, Harry wouldn't let me go. And he still wouldn't let me go.
"We've already talked about this." Harry said, an iron-vice grip on my shoulder as he got back onto the bed where his side was. He pulled my body down so I was lying on my back; I didn't bother struggling now. It would've been useless.
I said nothing as I turned away, a deep scowl on my face. It was extremely frustrating to have someone constantly telling you what to do. And it made it worse that I had no choice but to follow, or he'd spank me again. I wasn't one of those women who were into that kind of stuff...I knew there were women out there who liked pain with pleasure.
I pictured sex as a beautiful thing. I pictured it as two people becoming closer than ever before-connecting almost. I had actually read an ancient Greek tradition, where someone would wait their entire life until they met the one. When they met the one, they would have sex. They considered their partner the other part of them-like they were physically one. And all their life they had been missing an entire part of them, looking for the other half, and when they found the other half, they would finally connect to join as one.
Harry shuffled closer behind me, his arms wrapping firmly around my waist and bringing me flush against him. His legs tangled with mine under the covers, winding their way against me. His head rested on my shoulder, his nose buried in my hair.
"I'm never letting you go," He whispered faintly, his hot breath fanning across my hair. I closed my eyes, letting out a sigh from what he said. "If you ran away, I'd find you. I don't care how long it would take, I would find you." He clasped his hands together, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. "Now go to sleep, Claire."
"I want you and the girls to go out shopping today." Harry stated as I stepped out of the bathroom, having just taken a shower and shaving my legs. I had a towel firmly wrapped around my head, encasing my auburn hair.
I froze when he told me this. This was very unusual of Harry. He was always very resolute when it came to me staying here and not leaving.
"Really?" I asked, unable to hide my skepticism.
I stared at him for a few moments. He was wearing one of the new shirts Perrie had brought home a few days ago when she went shopping. The boys were pretty angry when she bought them several grandma sweaters-they were pretty horrid looking, but she thought it was hilarious. Nonetheless, Harry was wearing a dark long-sleeved t-shirt over dark, clean jeans. His feet were covered in large, pitch-black boots, brand new.
His emerald eyes were gazing at me; they were always so sharp, almost like he missed almost nothing.
"We have visitors coming today," Harry said, "and I think it would be best if you weren't here."
I immediately felt nervous when he said this. Why couldn't I be here? Whenever he went out to the clubs as a gang leader, he always had me perched on his lap. What was so different this time?
Who were his visitors?
"Why?" I asked.
His eyes were heavily guarded. "Because I said so."
I dropped my hands to my sides, my face narrowing. "You never tell me what's happening. Do you honestly expect me to do something when I have no idea what is happening?"
"I expect you to do what I say."
I let out a shaky sigh and turned right on my heel back into the bathroom. I heard Harry following close behind me, but I closed the door and made sure to lock it.
I brushed my hair, glaring at myself in the mirror. I was so sick of how he could think he could constantly tell me what to do. It is so unbelievably annoying for someone to constantly decide things for you.
"Claire, open this door." His knuckles were rapping on the door, his voice muffled from the other side.
"No." I replied calmly, though my face said otherwise. Tears were forming in my eyes. I didn't even know what to do anymore. I stopped brushing my hair, seeing my blue eyes slowly begin to turn red from the salty, warm tears. My chest was heaving as I heard Harry knock even more.
"Open this door right now."
"Just leave me alone." My voice wavered at this as I backed away from the mirror. The brush fell from my hand, falling lifelessly to the floor by my feet. I couldn't look away from my reflection.
This was all too much.
Harry's knocking was starting to get louder, his voice rising as he once again demanded for me to open the door. I sat on the toilet seat trying to cover my ears, tears streaming down my cheeks. I pulled my legs up to my chin, gently rocking myself.
Four days...of nothing but him telling me what to do.
"Sit on my lap."
"Where are you going?"
"You're staying right here."
"Give me a kiss."
"Don't fucking give me attitude, Claire."
"Go to sleep."
I heard Louis's voice outside of the door, and I froze when the banging stopped. My eyes watched closely, wide and nervous, as the door knob started to slowly turn. Louis had helped Harry somehow unlock it.
The door opened and Harry barged into the room. At first, he looked furious. His eyes were narrowed and a set frown was on his face. But as soon as he saw me seated on the toilet seat, hugging myself, his features actually softened. Changes in Harry like this were very hard to come by; when Harry got mad, he normally stayed mad until he cooled down after a few seconds.
"Please," I said shakily, "just leave me alone. Haven't you done enough to me? You already ruined my chance of seeing the world. What else could you possibly want from me?"
I was on the verge of another emotional breakdown, I could feel it rising in my chest. All the emotions I've been building up, encasing inside of me were about to burst. More tears came forth, and my lips were quivering, trying their best to stifle the sob threatening to break free.
"You constantly tell me what to do," I continued. "Why the hell are you doing this to me? Can't you just leave me alone?"
Harry stood there for a few moments, his green eyes watching me cry. His face was unreadable now. I scoffed a little, shaking my head and pulling down my legs. I should've known Harry wouldn't say anything.
He didn't care about me.
He just wanted to control me.
"I don't want you hear because if you were here, it would jeopardize your safety." Harry explained after a few moments. This, however, did catch my attention. "These visitors I'm having over are...different. And I don't have power over people like I once did-I don't have any connections. People aren't afraid of me anymore, so I can't control everything they do. I have nothing to threaten them with. If they wanted to hurt you in some way, there would be no way I could stop them. That's why I want you out of here. It's for your own safety."
"Really?" I asked quietly, my tears drying.
"Really." Harry crouched low in front of me, and I froze up when his warm thumbs wiped across my cheek. His eyes stared down at the wetness on the tip of his fingers before he wiped it off on his shirt. "Remember when I told you I would do anything to protect you? Don't you remember that at all?"
His eyes were genuine and..insulted? Hurt?
"Of course I remember that." I replied. I would never forget that day. I tried to escape, and Harry caught me-of course.
"I'll give you money to spend today." Harry decided, his hand grabbing mine and pulling me up. I sniffled a little, feeling slightly better. I shouldn't feel better. I should be fighting him constantly and trying to get the hell away. "You can buy whatever the fuck you want. But when I text you to come back, you better come back. Understand?"
"You have a phone?" I asked, confused. None of the boys had phones when they got here.
"We'll be using Fran's phone." Harry replied, pulling me out of the bathroom. "So make sure to check for any texts, okay?"
"Harry," Liam said from across the hall. His voice was serious, and I immediately knew something else came up by the look that crossed Harry's face.
"Get dressed," Harry said, all emotion gone. He quickly led me to my room, slamming the door behind me after tossing me his wallet. I got dressed quickly, barely opening the door to find Eleanor waiting for me.
"Go," Louis urged us; his blue eyes dark and determined. Eleanor and I were practically chased out the front door, and Fran and Perrie stood in front of their apartment.
I guess it was time to go.
"That shirt looks really good on you." Perrie told Eleanor as the brunette turned a little to see the back.
"It does?"
"Yeah, it does." Fran chimed in, bringing another shirt. "Here, try this one on."
Eleanor brightened up from the new shirt and wasted no time in going back into the dressing room to try it on. Right now, Eleanor was our little model-the girl loved trying things on and showing it to us. I had bought 2 new shirts with the money Harry gave. I had his wallet in my hands, the warm leather soft against my touch. I was shocked to finds wads of cash inside; I didn't know where Harry got the money, but I chose not to ask.
"You definitely need to get that shirt," Perrie stated when Eleanor stepped out. She shyly looked into the three-way mirrors, pulling her hair back over her shoulders.
"I really like it," She said with a small smile, staring at her reflection.
"Here, Perrie, you should try this one on." Fran said, bringing another shirt. This one was darker-one that fit Perrie perfectly. Perrie wasted no time in heading into the dressing room right next to Eleanor's.
"Claire, don't you want to try something on?" Eleanor asked, pausing before going into her room.
"No, I already got two shirts." I actually really hated trying things on. If I knew a shirt size, I would much rather just buy the shirt the size. This, however, was the cause for the many times of me going home to find clothes not fitting me.
"Fran, why don't you try something on?" Eleanor asked when Fran returned for yet again another shirt for Eleanor to try.
I was looking through Harry's wallet. I pulled out his expired driver's license; his picture was completely serious, and it chilled me to the bone. In the photo, his hair was much shorter, and his eyes looked so much more deadly, if that made any sense. He looked pissed actually. I put the license back in the compartment, deciding nobody needed to see that.
"Wallet."
A small voice sounded next to me, and I turned to see a little girl wearing a pink dress standing there. Her small fingers were pointing at the wallet in my hands, her large green eyes staring expectantly at me.
I glanced back at the wallet, holding it up. "Yes, it's a wallet." My blue eyes looked back at her. The girl was actually very cute-she had brown, curly hair that framed her round face. Her cheeks were also a rosy color, probably due to the fact that she was walking around.
"Lottie, there you are." A mother came rushing forth, pushing a baby stroller that had a brown teddy bear inside. The woman had dark hair with little curls waving past her shoulders. Her brown eyes were instantly filled with relief when she saw her daughter. She crouched in front of her, abandoning the stroller, and made her daughter look at her. "You can't just keep running off like that."
"Wallet," Lottie, the little girl, repeated.
"What?" The mother asked before noticing me. I was still holding the wallet up as her eyes met mine. The mother chuckled a little before saying to me, "I'm sorry. I turn my head for one moment and she's gone. She just loves to run off."
Perrie came out of the dressing room and was looking in the mirrors, Eleanor following shortly afterwards. I didn't know where Fran ran off to.
"She's cute," I told the woman, not quite knowing what else to say. I wasn't too great with kids; I've never had a younger sister or younger brother.
"Thanks, she sure is a handful." The mother said, and Lottie broke free from her grasp and stumbled towards me, heading towards the front.
Her hands reached for the wallet, her stubby fingers stretching for it. I decided to let her have it; I saw no problem with her looking at it.
"Baby, that's not yours," The mother chastised, hurrying to take the wallet away from the little girl. However, as soon as the wallet was torn from her arms, Lottie began screaming.
I flinched a little, eyes widening as the once happy and bubbly girl stood there, face red, mouth wide open and screaming.
Holy shit.
"You can't just take things from people," The mother continued to say, handing the wallet back to me. I was tempted to give the wallet back to Lottie just so she wouldn't yell like that.
The mother scrambled for something, looking in a bag as Lottie stood in front of me and screeched. Perrie made her way over to us, beaming over the child, while I could just stare with my ears hurting from the loud sound.
"Here we go," The mother found what she was looking for and crouched next to Lottie. She easily plopped a pacifier in the girl's mouth, and as soon as it clamped her mouth shut, Lottie was no longer screaming. She sucked on the pacifier at complete ease now, though her cheeks were still wet from crying and her eyes were still red. She bounded away from me, heading towards the mirror, and the mother just watched her with a fond smile.
"She is so adorable," Perrie gushed, unable to look away from the little girl.
"Thank you," The mom chuckled a little, straightening back up. "She loves that pacifier. It's a life saver to me. Every time she raises a fit in public, I just take that thing out and it does the trick."
Eleanor had just gotten out of the dressing room, but as soon as she saw the little girl staring into the mirrors, she completely forgot about her outfit and started making conversation with Lottie.
Eleanor and Perrie seemed great with kids. Fran was probably great, too.
Except me. I just didn't know how to act around a child.
Perrie and the mother apparently had a lot in common, because the two talked animatedly for a few minutes. Fran had returned, carrying no clothes, and silent sat next to me in the chair. I was watching Lottie as she silently listened to every single thing Eleanor said with that pink pacifier in her mouth. The girl really was adorable; she was tiny and short, and her curls were so soft and plentiful on top of her head.
The phone in my pocket vibrated, and as soon as I saw the text saying it was time to go, I put it away and said, "It's time to go."
"Okay, let's get in line." Perrie said, grabbing her handful of clothes. "It was so nice meeting you. What's your name by the way?"
"Oh, I'm Gemma." The mother replied with a smile.
"I'm Perrie. This is Fran, Eleanor, and Claire." Perrie replied with a wide smile.
"Come on, Lottie, it's time to go." Gemma said, and Lottie actually made her way over to her mother. She even climbed into the stroller, pulling the teddy bear tightly in her lap. Lottie's green eyes met mine, and I was stunned for a moment.
She looked...so familiar.
Those eyes...
"Come on, Claire." Fran said, nudging me a little. "We can't be late, remember?"
"Oh, right." I snapped out of my daze and quickly followed behind her. But I couldn't get rid of those green eyes and that curly brown hair...
"Harry," I shook his shoulders again later on that night, probably early in the morning. I woke up again to find him tossing and turning, his face twisted in discomfort. His strong arms were actually clutching onto the blankets, and on a normal basis I would've found that oddly adorable, but his heavy breathing was not adorable. "Harry, wake up. You're having a...dream again."
I had to shake him for a few times before he finally woke up. His eyes were wide as he jolted away, slightly startling me. It took him, once again, a few moments to let it all settle in before he relaxed.
"Are you okay?" I asked quietly, raising my arm to rub at my eyes.
"That," Harry rasped, his voice huskier than usual, heavy with sleep, "was not a good dream."
"Well it was just a dream." I told him, the words just leaving my mouth without me even thinking. "It's over now." I was surprised at how soft and gentle I sounded.
"Yeah, it's over." He repeated quietly. "Claire, come here."
I shuffled closer to him, feeling his arms pulling me close to him. His lips pressed against mine in a kiss, and he didn't press further-he only met my lips for a moment before pulling away and pulling me tighter against him.
I was pressed against his warm, bare chest, with his arms wrapped around me. I lay my head against his chest, hearing the soft thudding sound of his rapid heart beating within his chest.
He has a heart.
He's human.
I remembered the last thing I told him at the police station. I told him I loved him. And he reacted with utter disgust. I knew it was because I had just betrayed him, but...
....did I feel the same way? Was that just an act of whim-a rash happening?
Did I just say that because I was 'in the moment?'
Or did I really mean it?
"I'm trying so hard to forget," Harry said finally, his voice a low mumble. "But no matter what I do, I can't."
"Forget what?"
He clutched me tighter to him, and he chuckled a little bitterly above me and said, "It's nothing, just go to sleep."
I wanted to press him further. I might've gotten something out of him. But I was tired-I was just woken up because he was having a nightmare. I honestly had no energy to put up a fight or an argument.
So I simply closed my eyes, and fell asleep listening to the sound of his heart beat resonating against my ear.