Authors Note: Hey hey hey! Here is the next chapter of Styles & Co! The chapters seem to take longer and longer for me to write, but I really love writing them... despite wanting to pull my hair out 99% of the time.
Warning: Smut
———
I step into the house, my hands grappling to carry all my things as the frigid chill hurries through my body, creeping its way into the warmth of the house. I shove the door shut with my heel, letting out a sigh as I feel the warmth of the house radiating around me, a delightful aroma filling my senses as my stomach grumbles.
"Harry?" I call out, a little inquisitive as to what he is up too, it is five in the evening and he is home, remarkably. I overhear the cluttering of things in the kitchen, accompanied by a rather loud groan and a 'fuck.' a vast indication that Harry is home and that I have not come home to some random burglar cooking in my kitchen.
I drop my things in the living room before wandering to the kitchen, discovering Harry, "Hey, this is a sight I like to see." I smirk, watching as he glides around the kitchen gracefully, attempting to cook.
He flashes me a swift smile, "Hey, I got off early and thought I would be a decent fiance and cook. There is wine in the fridge if you want to get it out." He flicks his head towards the fridge, getting back to the stove.
I make my way to the fridge, my hand wrapping around the chilled bottle of wine, my favourite wine at that. I raise a brow, glancing over towards Harry as I place it on the counter. "You trying to get me drunk tonight?" I chuckle humorously, delighted that he managed to get a bottle of my favourite wine and to get away from work early enough to cook dinner for me.
He shrugs with a cheeky grin, "That is not the plan," he shakes his head cutely, his eyes focused solely on the food on the stove. "I thought I would give you a nice dinner," He comments, commencing to make me a little curious as to what is driving through that brilliant mind of his.
"That is nice of you, how was work?" I start a conversation with him, listening as he fills me in on the current problems of the business world, most of it flying over my head as he throws technical terms at me as if I am a business major. He chuckles when he finally glances up to acknowledge the perplexed appearance on my face. He grins, shaking his head before explaining his problems in a more slower and more understandable manner, also known as, dumbing it down for me without making me feel feeble-minded or uneducated.
"I have a new business associate." He changes the topic rather quickly as we gather around the dinner table, our food and wine waiting for us. I raise a brow, taking my seat, my hand eager to reach for my wine glass.
"Is she hot?" I immediately question, watching as he rolls his eyes, taking the seat across from me, his hand reaching for the chilled wine glass.
"She is a he, you met him once. That blond guy I did not introduce you too." He explains, "Niall, nice bloke from Ireland, quite intelligent. But anyway..." He clears his throat, holding up his wine glass, "To a nice evening and hopefully to dinner tasting decent." He grins that charming smirk.
I nod, holding my glass up in agreement, giving him a nod before we take our first sips.
Our conversation grows hushed once the wine is long gone and the food on our plates are nothing but our undesired leftovers. I smile over at him, still mesmerised by his features the way I was when we had our first date years ago. I cock my head slightly to the side, observing the way his bottom lip is curled, his hands clasped together as he rests his chin on them, his eyebrows furrowed. He's deep in thought about something, I can only assume he is pondering whether to verbally express his thoughts or not.
"More wine?" I offer, breaking the silence, his eyes flickering over towards me.
He shakes his head, "No, thank you. There is something we should discuss and I don't know how this conversation is going to end." He comments with a velvety voice, his eyes denoting a hazy shade of grey. I bite my lip, my heart rate quickening as the words glide off the edge of his lips.
"It isn't really bad, but, we need to discuss it." He promptly clarifies, my mind immediately operating through numerous complex things this could be about.
I nod, enabling him to go ahead with what it is we need to address. He clears his throat, his eyes flickering down to his lap before he takes a deep breath. "The prenup." He comments, my eyes instantly widening slightly.
I thought it was made obvious I would sign them. But, he does have a point, WE do need to discuss this, it has been streaming through my mind as well, especially since I found them at the house.
"I will sign them, Harry. I do not care about the money, you can have it all." I respond, not wanting this to turn into some bitter argument. He can have all the money if we divorce, I really don't give a flying fuck.
He shakes his head, "Elise-"
I cut him off, "Harry, I will sign them now, I mean it."
He heavily sighs, working his hands through his hair, "Will you let me speak?" He mutters, shutting me up for a moment, his eyes staring into mine like two daggers in the eye of the heart. "I am not worried about you divorcing me and taking everything, there is a reason why I am proposing for you to sign them. You do not have too. I will survive if you tell me no." He begins, only confusing me as to why the hell I am signing papers if he is not worried about the money.
Perhaps it is a family agreement thing? Or maybe some ridiculous business thing he has seen his clients proposing... Whatever it is, I don't care.
I am not in this for anything other than the love he advances and the way he makes me feel when he is around me.
"I will sign them," I nod,
"Do you want to know the reason why I am asking?" He challenges and I shrug, I am trusting his judgement and the fact that he is not trying to fuck me over once we get married. Not that he has any reason to. "If anything happens to the company before or during our marriage, you cannot get caught in the crossfire, even if I sign the business over to you— any financial predicaments— are my problem." He announces, taking me by surprise. I do not know how that would work, but that is rather considerate of him, making sure I can't go down if things go south.
"Are you anticipating a downfall, Harry?" I curiously ask, uncertain of what is processing through that mind of his.
He shrugs before shaking his head,
"Well, I do not anticipate it, but with the way other companies are crashing and burning, I do not want to take chances. Any concerns are my problem."
"You said, 'even if I sign the business over to you'. What do you mean by that?" I challenge, unsure of whether this is the wine speaking or if he is just thinking very far ahead into a time period we do not need to speculate about.
He sighs, biting his lip before standing from the table, "That is a conversation for another evening." He comments, taking his plate in his hand, reaching over for mine before heading towards the kitchen.
I believe this conversation is a valid one to have now, I want to know what the hell he is thinking. We all know, I am not the person he should be handing his business too, no matter the circumstances.
I pursue Harry to the kitchen, observing as he disregards my prying eyes while he begins to clean up the mayhem from the dinner he graciously cooked for the two of us to indulge in.
"Harry, you signing your pride and joy over to me is not something you should not even consider." I raise to his attention, "I am far from educated enough for the whole dynamics of a fucking business, so— please, elaborate what the hell is going through your mind."
"Elise, again— this is a conversation for another time. Perhaps when we are actually married or have the wedding planned." He mutters, his tone of voice indicating he has no desires to continue the conversation.
"Harry, why wait? Is this the wine talking?"
"Damnit, Elise. You will eventually be in control of the damn business, now quit asking me questions. I told you it was a conversation for another evening." He mutters unhappily, something about the topic not settling too well with him at the moment. "I can see you staring at me ready to ask me another question, so go on, go ahead." He sighs when I grow withdrawn, my eyes just glaring over at him.
I sigh, doubtful of whether to bother continuing this conversation or not. He apparently does not want to have the discussion right now.
"I will make it easier for you, one instance on when you take control of the business is when I die. Can we drop it now? The prenup stops you from getting caught in any crossfires. That is all you need to know right now." He responds, dismissing the conversation, leaving me perplexed with many more interrogations.
"I uh," I mumble, my fingers intertwining with each other as I strive to come up with the words I want to say, far too many concepts roaming my head right now. "Do I need to get a lawyer or anything? When do I sign the papers?" I question, my legal expertise not coming handy with this prenup situation.
"We will go see a notary and sign a postnuptial and then sign a prenup once we are married." ... "I kind of think that we should let this settle a bit and in a week decide on whether you still want to sign. Okay?" He proposes and I nod, agreeing that we should both let the whole discussion settle for a little bit so we can both have a clear mind and not rush into it. Well, at least I think it is a good idea.
*** ***
I make my way around the house, curious as to where Harry got himself off too, he has been relatively quiet since he got out of bed over four hours ago. I was blessed to have him sleep in with me, for the first time since our trip to New York, he managed to keep himself in bed until eleven just to keep me satisfied.
I discover him in the living room, his phone hugged to his ear, his gaze scrutinising my every step.
I shuffle closer to him, discreetly leaning down and placing a few faint kisses on his cheeks, gingerly lowering myself down to sit in his lap while I lace his neck with luscious kisses. I feel his hand benevolently caress against my back, his main focus still being on the phone call.
As he discusses business and whatever the fuck else he's rambling on about, I move my agile fingers to glide up and down his sweater, gradually moving my hands to dance across the waste band of his sweatpants, his eyes immediately flashing to glare at me. I can tell by the appearance in his eyes he's both astonished and somewhat frustrated.
Of course, there is a time and place for such behaviour that is corrupting my thoughts, and whether now is the time, I do not care. I have had this desire humming in my veins since last night when he came home with messy hair and a half buttoned shirt exposing his chest. If it was not for the weary aspect in his eyes and his heavy groan when he fell to the bed, I would have taken my chance to take care of my hunger.
I pout my lips as he eyes me, having a strong appetite to fulfil the craving that's making itself known. I just want to feel my fingertips touch every warm location of his body, to wrap myself around his package; I want to feel his sweat dripping down my body, his hands exploring my body, tracing every inch at the tip of his finger.
I am needy and greedy right now.
I can't help but press my lips to the slender column of his neck, biting down mildly, driving him to withhold a moan as he continues his call; I leave a path of clumsy kisses down his neck, forcing his sweater to expose his chest before I find a desirable place to engrave his skin with my love. I observe his hand caressing its way through my hair, stroking affectionately with each kiss I leave, his touch enough to entice me further.
I feel his fingers tap against my back and I stretch away from his skin, my eyes peering up at him. He removes his hand from my back and urges it to the hem of his sweater, tugging at it, a grin forming on my lips as I take it as an invitation. I move my hands to help him pry the sweater off of him, my eyes radiating at the view of his glowing body, my tongue grazing against my eager lips.
"It tries to help small businesses with tax breaks, but it could do a lot more. What's the situation here? .... Yes, it's getting worse. But I think it's a problem in most places, isn't it?" Harry's voice is low and steady despite my ambitions to devour him. "You need to iron out how you're going to handle transferring the money and drawing up the contracts..... I will not use my own capital to buy out the 46% share remaining." Harry sighs as I kiss my lips to his smooth surface, his hand caressing the small of my back. "You know what?" He clears his throat, "I need to discuss the buyout with my wife, can we continue this call at a later date? Or even in person, perhaps next week?" Harry extends over the phone, piquing my interests as the word wife is expressed.
I extract away from my kisses, a smirk radiant across my face as I raise a brow, needing an explanation. He winks at me cheekily, urging a refined kiss to my lips as he awaits his answer over the phone.
I leisurely move my way further down his body, my mouth weighting to each curve of his defined abs, creeping closer and closer to his precarious area, my body sliding away from him, my knees pressing to the floorboards.
My eyes glance up at him, his eyebrows furrowing, a smirk written across his face as he cocks his head to the side, trying to determine whether I'm bluffing or if I mean business while I'm down here.
He clears his throat as I unravel the string of his waste band, realising I'm not bluffing with every moment that passes.
He bites his lip while I lean closer and cautiously kiss down his v-line, gradually pulling his pants further down, revealing his growing excitement.
"No, I am sorry. I need to discuss this with my wife, I don't think I should make a decision on such a large sum of money without her, so, yes, we will need to discuss this at a later date, that is of course if you want my help." Harry tries to end the business call as I become frisky and sexually frustrated, struggling to contain myself and my irate cravings.
Harry rolls his eyes as I gaze up at him, mouthing a silent, 'I am sorry,' due to his business call taking far too long. I huff before taking the moment to be mischievous and spontaneous, my knees positioning on the floorboards, his eyes widening as I presumptuously concede with my thoughts, taking him pleasurably in my mouth.
I feel his hand press to the back of my head, benevolently guiding me to continue and to go further, his voice moderately becoming shaky over the phone, but still professional. He clears his throat, doing his best to stay calm. My own calming pleasure fascinated with the soft roundness of what he has to offer.
"I will talk to my wife and see, we can meet Thursday... Yes, that works for me." Harry clears his throat again, biting his lip as he glimpses down at me, holding back a moan.
"Elise, do you want me that fucking badly?" He murmurs the minute he hangs up the call, drawing me up to his lap, my hands pressing to his chest.
I bite my lip, nodding my answer. "I want to have sex," I whisper, sliding closer to him as I straddle his front.
He rolls his eyes at my obvious comment, "Gathered that much." He grins with mysterious grey eyes, "You teased the fuck out of me while I was on the phone, you're going to have to pay." He informs me, his hands rapidly playing with the hem of my shirt, stretching it over my head, his eyes staying focused on mine despite the cleavage and his beloved bra being held against my boobs.
"I didn't mean to tease you," I stammer, his finger pressing to my lips.
"Shhh, you knew what you were doing." He grins, brushing his lips against mine, skimming the edge of my lips with his tongue to give me a brief taste of what I'm yearning for.
I let out a breath the minute his lips touch my skin, skimming across my collar bone, inching down to my cleavage, my hands twirling their way through his fluffy hair, tugging lightly every time he gently bites the delicacy of my skin, working his charm in a negligent manner.
I concede his kisses to wash over my body, the feel of his fastidious lips urging to my body fills me with enough pleasure to keep me wanting more, his tongue occasionally leaving streaks and a wet sensation with every inch he covers.
His hand moves to the hem of my leggings, his hand gliding further down to graze against the sensitivity of me, teasing me with modest strokes, having no desire to yet put me out of my misery and slide under the material of the leggings. I allow the torture, knowing I deserve it for what I did to him while he was on the phone, plus, we are both enjoying this teasing moment. "Are you sorry?" He whispers as I squeeze his shoulder carefully, his agile hands making my head spin with every tantalising stroke.
I shake my head with a grin, my eyes observing as he narrows his eyes onto me, amused by my response, "No remorse, damn I corrupted you." He chuckles, carefully moving to lay me on the couch, tangling his tongue with mine, removing my leggings with ease and at a leisurely pace. "Are you okay?" He mumbles against my lips, easily removing my underwear, deciding to put me at ease with his teasing.
I mumble a response. I have been ready since last night when I first wanted to participate in these loving actions. It was hard for me not to take him in the bed this morning, I was tempted, very tempted, but did not want to make a pass at him while he was a bit groggy and sleepy.
He eases my knees apart delicately, his hips crown against mine. While I feel the texture of his body, my hands feeling the beautiful landscape of plains, tight abs, and smooth skin, he slowly enters, his body surging into mine, a crumbling barrier of resistance exhaling my lips as I let out a small groan. Enthralling me with his touch, he takes bold control of my lips, slamming our mouths together with a great, passionate force, my legs tightening around his body with each pleasuring motion.
My fingers tangle within his silky curls, the grips of them tugging mildly, his grave words becoming uttered against my skin, "You okay?" He mumbles, seeming to be determined to make sure I am fine, for what reason, I do not know.
My body closes tightly against his— a hot flavour of desire becoming a growing need that needs feeding. My knees clamp his naked sides, his moderate repetitive motions moulding our bodies to work in the same rhythm. I feel the rippled pleasure beginning to make itself identified, a sharp spasm of need exercising itself in our presence. Tangy taste and male scent fills the air as I arch my back imperceptibly, taking a deep breath, our bodies knowing each other well enough to know he is close. I let out a breath as I absorb the feel and fill of him, closing my eyes for a moment as he groans.
I move enough for him to squeeze beside me on the couch before move to rest on his sweaty body. I lay my head on his bare chest, his fingers travelling through my hair cautiously while we catch our breath, his other hand resting in the small of my back.
I can't lie and say that was the best we have had, but it was better than nothing. He seemed to be soft and holding back.
"We need to get ready for that event." Harry breaks the silence the moment I close my eyes.
I lift my head and prop myself to hover over him, gazing into his eyes.
"Do we have too?" I question, leaning down and kissing him profoundly, dragging away teasingly with my teeth cautiously between his bottom lip. "Because I much rather go again." I glide my index finger down his chest, his hands immediately moving to cup my face. I'd much rather go again and maybe actually climax this time.
"Baby, I would love too. But, I have to make an appearance." He informs me, politely turning down my offer,
"You can be late," I whisper, leaning down and kissing him again, surprised when I feel the feathery strokes of his tongue kissing back, his hands beginning to wander my body again.
"Baby, I have to get ready," He mumbles against the wetness of my lips, "How about later tonight? Hm?" He gently pushes a few strands of hair behind my ear, his eyes beaming into mine. "I'll make it worth your while, promise." He winks, my teeth sinking between the edges of my bottom lip.
How can I turn down a fulfilment of promises?
I agree to his promise with a small wink, kissing him one last time before he carefully sits up, forcing me off his body. I lean down and grab his sweater, allowing it to fall over my body to cover me enough.
"Shower?" He offers and I look over my shoulder as he pulls up his sweat pants, grabbing my leggings and underwear, throwing them towards me. "A clean shower, nothing dirty, Ms Cheeky." He quickly adds, catching onto the glimmer in my eye.
I sigh, a little disappointed that he is not up for another round— the one time I am really eager to feel him again. "What's up with you today? I know you love me, but you seem extra cheeky." He questions, causing me to frown,
"Are you complaining?"
"Fuck no. Just curious." He shrugs, giving me a slight wink as he glides his hand over mine, gently tugging me away from the living room.
"Mhm." I hum, not bothering to respond to him as I walk towards the stairs.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, why do you keep asking?"
"You've been a bit shaky and dizzy after us having sex, just making sure you are okay this time." He responds, catching me off guard.
I did not really think he paid too much attention to the few times he has left me remarkably quivery and with a bit of soreness.
It comes with the territory of great sex. I can't complain.
"You purposely went slow, didn't you?"
"I don't like hurting you or having you dizzy." He responds, guiding me up the staircase, his fingers intertwined with mine.
"You don't hurt me, it is fine. Thank you for caring though." I give him a small grin, pulling him towards the bedroom, "That is actually really fucking sweet." I continue, kind of admiring how attentive and caring he is.
*** ***
For the first time in the history of Harry Styles, I was not prompted with who to talk to and who to stay away from, Harry today, did not give me a list of things to remember regarding the charity event; however, he did specifically request for me to stay by his side for the evening and not wonder off.
Harry has failed to let me out of his sights, his eyes seeming to watch everyone and everything like a Hawk.
"Elise, nice of you to finally join."
Logan approaches me as he's wearing a burgundy tie around his neck, his eyes flickering towards Harry, "Styles." He nods, earning him an inclination back from Harry, but nothing more. "I have some people for you to meet." Logan comments, gesturing over towards a crowd of people that are more than likely discussing the same business desires that Harry is going to engage in.
"Hm, I think not." Harry finally speaks, causing me to internally groan. "She's coming with me." Harry continues, his voice deep and full of authority.
"Styles, what do you think I am going to do? Steal her and whisk her off to fucking Mexico?" Logan rolls his eyes and I benevolently press my hand to Harrys arm.
"I actually prefer to stay with Harry, there is someone who I want to meet and it is through his business." I intervene before Harry can respond with a comment that I undoubtedly know would have been snarky and barked at Logan.
Logan nods, eyeing Harry before glancing towards me, "I need you to donate on your behalf for the business," he signals towards the donation table, again, implying for me to make his business resemble a comprehensive company that is involved with everything.
I am all for donations, but if he keeps it up, I will have no paycheck, he signs them off to charities.
"Sure, I will see you later, good luck with the draw." I smile towards Logan, wishing him the best of luck with the whole business competition thing that is going on. Logan nods, dismissing Harry and I and Harry takes the lead.
I accompany Harry to the bar, observing as he orders himself a stiff drink, glancing at me as he grasps his wallet, "Want anything?" He proposes, "I heard the champagne is nice," He continues, something about him seeming incredibly off to me. I shake my head, having no desire to have any sort of alcoholic beverage this evening; I am not really in the mood for anything, not even champagne. He shrugs, paying the bartender and waiting for his drink, his hidden eyes scanning the area like they would if this was one of his business routine meetings/events.
It is unusual for him to be relatively quiet with me at this sort of thing, we have only been here a short period of time, but I can tell something is up, what it may be, I do not know. As we stand at the bar, he has yet to make any sort of comment to me, not even so much as holding my hand or showing me any sort of affection.
He takes the drink from the bar and escorts me towards the donation area, his arm not wrapping around me like usual, nor does his hand intertwine its fingers with mine. It is almost as if I am not present and walking beside him, if I did not know any better, I would think he was pissed off with me, but he has no reason to be. Just before we got ready we surged together with sweaty bodies, he was satisfied— I am not sure what happened.
Harry signs his check and places it in the guarded donation box, turning towards me as I sign mine, "How does it feel to have to sign a check on behalf of jackass?" Harry whispers just for me to hear, my eyes rolling at his comment.
Either way, the check is going to good use, no matter which business it is supporting. "Harry, please don't start," I warn, sliding my check into the box, stepping to the side, waiting for Harry to take the lead on where he desires to wander off to next.
I don't know why, but Harry wants me by his side tonight and that is where I will be. My wish is his command when it comes to certain things. He might put on a confident face, but I know part of him is somewhat concerned about how the night will go down. Being outranked by Logan is a possibility and despite this being a donation event, there is no way in hell Harry is going to go down without a fight. I know he is ready to bid on every single auction just to outrage Logan, their dominance between the two of them bound to rise.
We walk towards an empty table, taking our seats as Harry stays quiet, barely speaking a word to me.
"Is something wrong, Harry?" I softly challenge as we get a moment alone, taking note of his tense shoulders, and his smouldering eyes that appear as if they are ready to pounce on someone and slaughter them.
He just has this appearance, a threatening demeanour.
He shakes his head, turning to glance at me, his hand finally making contact with me for the first time tonight. He presses his hand to relax on my thigh, leaning back imperceptibly in the chair.
"Just tired, that is all." He clears his throat, not sounding too convincing within the slightest bit.
"Earlier you referred to me as your wife," I bring up his comment when he was on his business call, still thrilled at the word leaving his lips.
He nods, "Yes," ... "You are going to be my wife, I will refrain from using the term if you do not like it."
"No, no, I liked it." I immediately assure him with a smile, "I didn't expect it," I continue, my eyes moving to follow Harry's as he keeps his eyes firmly on a group of businessmen at the bar.
"Mhm, I've noticed you helping with Addy's wedding, you plan on starting ours?" He questions, causing me to knit my eyebrows, a frown forming to resemble across my face. His tone of voice automatically indicates there is a bit of tension brewing between my neglect of planning our wedding.
"Mhm." I hum, "So, what was that business thing you are meant to discuss with your wife?" I change the subject, not wanting to discuss logistics of our unplanned wedding.
He shrugs, his mood reflecting towards a bitter tone. "Harry." I draw our his name, straining his prying eyes away from the Bar. I have no idea what his intentions are with that group of men, but I have a feeling is ready to pounce.
He responds to my comment, his voice not low and soft within the slightest as the words leave the tip of his tongue. "Well, my wife does not seem to want to plan our wedding, so she is currently not involved in my business strategy."
"Wow, you're in a pissy mood, what the hell is wrong with you?"
"I am fucking exhausted, Elise." He mutters, his hand lifting from my thigh, he sighs and rubs his temples, "Fuck this fucking shit, I'm going to get another drink and make my rounds. You, stay here." He comments, my eyes narrowing down on him.
"Excuse me?" ... "Why are you being a dick to me?" I tug at his arm as he goes to stand, forcing him back to his chair. "I don't know what your problem is, but I suggest you knock it off because you are borderline close to the damn dog house."
"What are you going to do? Kick me out of the bed?" He challenges, something about him telling me he is on edge about something, this is not just stress and exhaustion speaking.
"Just go, Harry. You're in one hell of a dick mood." I stand from my chair, walking away from him, mingling myself with a few of the women I have met previously before at a few events.
Harry stays away from me, glaring over at me to make sure I am still alive, I guess, while he mingles and keeps his drink firmly gripped in his hand. I have no idea what the fuck his problem is, but whatever it is, if he does not get over it by the time we leave, his ass can sleep in the guest room, or on the couch for all I care.
His pissy moods and taking things out of me is going to stop. He can't just say he is exhausted and think that it is a legitimate excuse for being a dickhead to me for no damn reason.
I am distracted from my eyes focused on the bar, contemplating on whether to get a drink or not, when I hear Harry's voice. "Elise," Harry tenderly pulls me to the side, "I have to go." He informs me, glancing around the area of other people, seeming to be on alert.
I go to question him, but he instantly stops me, "I have something to do, I will see you at home, okay?" He comments, the appearance in his eyes making it known that I do not need to challenge anything; it is best if I just nod and accept that he is leaving.
I can only assume something has happened within the business world, perhaps a stock market fall or one of his employees have fucked up again, he seems to have a lot of those happen.
"Okay, are you alright? You seem tense." I challenge, somewhat concerned, I have never seen his eyes come off as very menacing, at least, not around me.
"Yea' just a headache." ... "I need to go, I am trusting that wanker to make sure you get home safely." He comments, his eyes casting towards Logan Meyer.
"Harry," I sigh, something deep down telling me something is up. He gives me his full attention, his eyes seeming to have softened from their menacing glare moments ago.
"Yes, sweetheart?" He delicately takes my hand, finally making contact with me after being an ass and neglecting me most the evening.
"Nothing," I shake my head, probably reading far too into him, it presumably is just a headache that has him tense and a little on edge. "How late will you be?"
"Dunno, I love you, I will see you later." He leans down and kisses me sweetly, giving me a faked smile,
"I love you, too. Be careful." I respond,
"Will you text me when you are on your way home?"
"Yes, text me when you get home. There is the last round of snow coming through, make sure Logan gets you home safe, I have made it known I will personally torture him if he harms you." Harry comments, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he is walking away, leaving me at an event that is for his benefit and not my own.
*** ***
Logan was kind enough to take me home earlier than he probably would have liked, once Harry left I was not much for wanting to stay at the event. Logan offered to take me home at midnight and I took up his offer. Although, I am sure it will come at some sort of cost when I go to work.
I overhear the front door downstairs, my hands drawing at the covers as I only assume it is Harry finally getting in. I think nothing of it, not bothering to even check the time as I lean over and turn the bedside light on, deciding not to make him stumble his way around the room in the dark.
I hear his footsteps get closer before his tall figure walks through the door, his eyes widening as he notices me still awake.
"Baby, I thought you'd be asleep." He comments, drawing his jacket around his front, my eyes immediately catching a glimpse of his hands.
"Harry," I gulp, my eyes seeing red smeared across his hands.
"Go to sleep, Elise." He instructs as I get out of bed, unsure of whether I am seeing things clearly, all I see is red.
He attempts to conceal his hands, but it is too late.
I observe the blood painted across his knuckles, his hands slipping from their position, revealing his transformed white button down.
I gasp, observing his scarlet stained shirt.
"What the hell happened?" I hasten over to him as he shrugs his jacket off his shoulders, no longer attempting to cover the claret stains or the slight pain in his body as he winces imperceptibly.
He does not acknowledge my inquiry, he just sighs, placing his jacket to rest on the bed, my eyes focused on the blood staining his hands, dripping to the floor.