Love me? Love...me? How does he even know what it feels like? Surely, I've never loved someone besides a family member. He doesn't even know anything about me, and yet he's sure he loves me?
My hands start to shake and I look at them for a while. Harry takes a small step forward to reach my hands. He grabs my palms and holds onto them, almost like he's just bought a precious item. He's looking deep into my eyes and isn't moving his body. He stands tall, still and handsome with me in his hands.
I look into his pleading eyes, does he expect me to love him back? To say it back? I don't think I love him. I would know if I did and I didn't. His family basically kidnapped me from my home, or I should say bought me from my family, from my only source of security and happiness. They took me and forced me to stay and try and impress Prince Harry here, to wed the man.
How could I love him? "Harry-"
"Yes?" Harry replies, too quickly for my liking.
I let a sigh escape my lips. He may be expecting me to say I love him back, but I can't. If there's anything all people shouldn't do, is lie about love. Love is like a flame, easily started but hard to take out. My parents taught me all about love. I can't lie about loving someone.
Harry can certainly love the fact that he has a woman on his boat. Perhaps that he's roaylity and that nothing he will ever do, would be considered wrong. Possibly, that he could do anything he wants with me. Maybe the fact that right now, in this moment we're all each other has.
I look at the way Harry holds my hands. His body is calm and seems more than comfortable in this situation. Whereas, I'm about to panic on the thought that he may actually have a passion for me. Love can refer to and range from the smallest to the largest of things. Maybe he just loves this moment. He may love this feeling. It's impossible for me to believe that he loves me... yeah, no way.
"I'm having a lovely time," I slander. Goodness, it's like I can tell a fib about everything else but the topic of intamicy. I blame my sagacious parents, may they rest in peace.
I honestly don't even know if I'm enjoying my time. I started my evening by waiting on Harry; one minute I'm angry at him, up against him, kissing him like he's been my lover of ten years but now he wants me to discuss my interpersonal affection of him. How can I? I couldn't even admit that I like the way his lips feel on mine. That the way his hands move on my body is painful but at the same time, a bit pleasurable. Am I actually starting to really enjoy Harry?
Harry brings my hands to his lips and kisses each of my knuckles, "I'm glad."
I turn my head away and blush. It's like sometimes he's so sweet and charming yet he has this other side of which I can't describe... a bad side, a side I'm not to fond of.
"What do you feel like doing?" Harry asks me.
My mouth opens wide and forms a smile and almost a laugh. "I don't know, aren't we kind of limited on activities? We're on a boat."
Harry smiles and takes my hands and we walk back to the couch. "Do you want another daiquiri?" He asks me.
I nod my head and take a seat. "I like the strawberry taste."
"Me too," Harry replies.
Harry turns around and spends some time at the bar; making our drinks and I can't help but wonder how in the hell he knows how to make a daiquiri. But how hard is it to mix alcohol with other syrups or juices? I'm sure it isn't that hard.
Harry finally turns around and returns back to the couch and sits to my right. He hands me my own glass of the drink. On the couch our knees touch, and as much as I want to distance our legs, I don't. We're not doing anyhing wrong, anything bad.
"Tell me about yourself Gisele," Harry says, while slurping his drink.
I swallow and turn my body to face him. My knees touching his mid-thigh now. Harry gives me a smirk and places his hand on my right thigh. I look at his hand placement and decide whether to move his hand away or keep his long, warm, soft and gentle mitts in place... I mean he loves me right? It's okay if he touches me. I kinda like him anyway. Kinda.
"Well what would you like to know?" I ask Harry. "I'm only nineteen years old, I've got quite the amount of stories."
"Start from the beginning," he says.
"Okay," I nod. "Will you tell me about you too?"
Harry looks at me then takes the straw in his drink and starts to twirl it, I hear him crush the slush and I start to grow impatient but with much hesitation Harry finally speaks. "Sure."
A smile creeps onto my face, and I begin to tell Harry all about myself. "I lived in District One with my parents and two brothers. We lived in a fairly large house, my father was quite wealthy. My mother and he had gold from the tops of their heads to the shoes on their feet. My mother loved to put me in any gold and I only wore the best of clothes. My father would take my brothers out a lot and they had a phenomenal bond that I was always jealous of.
"Once when I was ten my mom took me out of the District and we went to the City of Loam, District twenty-four, to buy threads and fabrics, my mother loved clothes and fashion. I realized how fortunate I was during that time. District twenty-four was obviously poor, I mean it was the last of the districts and as you know each is assigned from one being the most wealthy and well yeah...
"When I was eleven my dad bought me a horse, but he never lived to teach me how to ride it. Because my parents died when I was tweleve, someone broke into our home and I-I remember how she-my mother, how she screamed..." I said, I pausing my story and trying to get 'collected'. I eventually let a few tears slip and apologized to Harry before continuing.
Everyone has a struggle, I remind myself.
"They killed them and they took the house. My brothers and I were left on the street and we had no where to go.... My brothers were twins and Marco was the angry one. He fought for money. One of his opponents that he beat, found him when us three were having dinner in the small house Marco bought a-and they made us watch his death."
I covered my face, as I just let the tears stream down the surface of my cheeks. I turned my body away from Harry and let the memories fill my head. I missed Marco. I've tried to keep these feelings and emotions hidden but it was time they spill out. It was time that I acknowledge some of the best and worst times of my life.
"After that, Anthony and I moved to Loam, I was fourteen. Yeah, District twenty-four. It was rough, a rough move. Anthony got married and had children. We all lived together and I thought for once things were stating to get better." I gave Harry a little smile as I saw him lick his lips. His eyes looked like they held tears, glassy.
I turn my head away from Harry as I continue. "His wife got sick and she passed away. Julian, his son was somehow forced to join the soccer team and then the city officials started to get worst and then I don't know... Julian sold me. That's it though, that's all."
"That's it?" Harry chuckled.
My body doesn't hesistate to stiffen. "That's it?" I repeat, as a question. "What do you mean?"
Harry moves his hands up and down my thigh, "I didn't mean it like that. Like, oh that's all you went threw... I mean't it like: could there be anymore? You seemed like you just finished reading a children's novel, 'and that's it, that's all' folks."
A children's novel? "Harry this isn't funny. Do you think I'm lying?"
Harry lets a small smile peak through his lips, "No, I don't think you're lying..."
"Then what are you implying? That my life is similar to a children's novel? That what I went through was joy and rainbows and that more sacrifices and more pain should of occurred?" I knew I was blowing this out of porportion but I couldn' let him disgrace my life like that.
"No I didn't mean it like that. You're being a bit dramatic."
"What?!" I yelled. I crossed my arms and stood up quickly. I was ready to sprint up to the middle deck and ask the captain to speed the hell up. Surely, I'm confused the hell out.
"I'm sorry." Harry said. He stood up and placed both his hands on my shoulders. I shrugged my shoulders, so that he can remove his hands off me. I don't want him touching me, not now when he's acting like this, anyway.
"I just opened up to you," I told Harry, in a quiet voice.
I moved my eyes to watch Harry turn away from me and head over to the mini bar. He placed his hands on the marble top and I saw his upper body rise and fall rapidly.
"I know you're not lying, Gisele." Harry said slow and quietly.
"Then why did you-"
I stopped talking as I saw Harry turn around slowly. His hands started to shake, he tried to step closer but I saw his body start to tremble. He was starting to sweat.
"I'm sorry." Was all he said.
"Harry-" I began.
"No, I'm sorry Gisele." Harry said strictly. He wanted to make sure I heard his apology and the sincerity in his voice. I knew he wouldn't just disgrace my life worth; he wasn't that cruel. He wouldn't ask to hear about my life to make fun of it, I reminded myself. Sometimes I can be a handful, I know.
I watched Harry part his lips and take in short breaths. "What's going on?" I questioned, and then made small steps to get closer to him.
"I know you endured a hard life. I did too, you know? You're not the only one." Harry answered.
"What do you know about hardships?" I spat.
Harry let out a chuckle and moved his hand over the marble top and I saw him take a swing of the Grey Goose, before he set the bottle harshly on the granite.
"Hell of a lot." Harry started.
I watched Harry intently, as I turned my body and made my way over to the couch. He was going to tell me his life story now. And I had to make sure that I could hear every word corectly and see him speak of his past.
"My mother died giving birth to me. I had an older sister, she's gone. My-"
I placed my hand on Harry's thigh and immediately he looked at my hand placement and stopped speaking. I wanted Harry to be truthful with me, he could tell me anything. I wasn't going to judge him. I had no one to spill his secrets too. I've actually been a good trooper, throughout this whole experience; I've barely questioned anything, I've barely shown Harry my own temper tandrums and I've done mostly everything he asked for, in fact he's taken advantage of most situations.
"What happened to her Harry?" I asked, as gently as I could.
Harry took in a sharp breath and then laid his back fully on the couch. He was trying to relax, it seemed.
"She was arranged to marry Zayn."