A/N: I finally updated!!!!!!!! The writing in this is bad though. idk. I'm not happy with it.
I finally founf someone who looks like how I imagine Eleanora! Amanda Norgaard, the Danish model. Picture of her on the side.
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❝I'll walk you home safe, from the dark, I'll give you my jacket, I'll give you my heart❞
If there was one thing I learned about Eleanora in the four or so days I’d known her, it’s that she never passed up an opportunity. She’d see something we could potentially get involved in, whether it be in the form of a street performer asking for volunteers or a market stall advertising all their stock as half price, and then she’d look to me with a little twinkle in her eye which spoke for itself. She often got her way, and I’d find myself regretting my decision to give in less than a minute later.
But now, as the sky began to darken to twilight grey, I started to dismiss these little pleas and short-lived arguments with a simple ‘it’s getting late’.
We were still walking through the streets of London, but now we didn’t have any final destination in mind. So we were strolling, basically. The people we passed gradually merged from men in business suits to posies of chirping girls in cocktail dresses, further enhancing just how late it was.
“Do you think we should head back?” I asked, spinning my head around to the direction which I thought was ‘back’. But then I asked myself ‘wait, where exactly is back?’, and realised that we didn’t have a place to retreat to once we’d called it a day.
“I don’t know. Probably.” she shrugged, continuing to pad along the sidewalk.
“Eleanora…” I began, chewing on my lip. My voice came out high and strained as a result of me thinking about our current situation. We were in London. London. And night time was fast approaching. If we weren’t careful, we could easily have accidently wondered off into a dodgy southern neighbourhood, like Clapham or Brixton, and ended up in all sorts of trouble. My stomach lurched at the thought.
“Yeah?” she said, spinning around to face me while moving hair out of her eyes.
“W— where is exactly is…back?” I stuttered, nibbling on my lip even more, to the point where I felt a slight pain.
She briefly smiled before reaching her hand out to my shoulder, clasping it gently. “Aww, Hazzie. Look at you, all scared and unsure.” she cooed teasingly. I hated the nickname so damn much, but didn’t say anything.
I pulled her hand away, as much as I liked the feel of it resting there “Well I have a right reason to, yeah? We’re in a big city, and— and it’s d— dark and ‘m cold and we’ve nowhere to stay, and—“
“Relax.” she told me, her hand returning to my quivering shoulder. Her expression was no longer teasing, but comforting. She gave me a warm smile and squeezed my shoulder in assurance. “I stayed at my sister’s flat last night, remember? She’s still in Croatia and I have the spare key, so,”
“’kay,” I said, heaving a deep breath. I looked down to the worn pavement, the cracks and gutters along the road, causing my curly fringe to flop down over my face.
“Hey,” she said, her voice suddenly softer than I’d ever heard before. Her other hand moved up to push my hair away from my eyes. I gazed down at her questionably as her fingers traced the crease in my brow “’s alright, yeah?” she mumbled, her fingers now tangling themselves in my matted hair. I closed my eyes as she began to roam her fingers around, affectionately scratching my scalp. I leaned into the touch, feeling content.
“’s just that I’ve been away from home so long, and,” I muttered, shaking my head slightly and scrunching up my nose.
“Shh,” she whispered “s’ okay, Harry.” And then her arms were wrapped around me, hugging me close.
We were just two people standing in the middle of the footpath, enclosed in a tight embrace as the world progressed around us. It was a late night and there were car lights, making it so atmospheric and, well, just nice. Yeah.
I’d been feeling homesick, but standing there, with Eleanora nuzzling into my chest, the scent of her sweet strawberry perfume wafting around, I felt like I was at home.
Usually I associated her as something foreign; a strong, unfamiliar force who’d come storming into my life. But now, without me even monitoring it, I’d grown attached to her. Now she was the norm.
She pulled away with a sigh, refusing to meet my eyes. “Let’s go back, yeah?”
I nodded, probably more than necessary, and followed her moving figure as she resumed padding along the footpath, hair lightly soaring in the breeze. I aligned my steps with hers and watched the cars go by; watched how the headlights got brighter and brighter, shining on my face, before zooming off behind me. I listened to the sound of the nearby pubs, the occasional emergency vehicle siren, the soft wind, the gentle footsteps of Eleanora, and thought of home, and what was meant by that word.
“Hey, Harry,” she said a few minutes later.
“Mmm?”
“Are— are you sure you want to head back, because,”
I released a long sigh and tilted my head back “What is it?” I asked, my voice now low and slurred with exhaustion.
“I know you’re tired and stuff, but” she started off slow, the speed of her words gradually increasing “but I just saw something, and— and, please could we just, just —“
“What is it?” I repeated.
She didn’t give me an answer, just jerked her head back in the direction of a nearby alleyway. Upon first glance down the seedy walkway I noticed it was illuminated by dimly coloured flashing lights. Blue, red and green, changing in time to a pulsing beat. Through further inspection I discovered the lights were emitting from a half ajar window, which was small in size and sat high atop of a wall. I wondered what was so significant about it, and why Eleanora was being so insistent towards it.
“Now, look down there.” she instructed, tearing my eyes to the left, where I saw a mound of dressed up people, snaking around a building in an impatient queue.
“It’s a club.” I stated the obvious, looking at the stocky bouncer and the demeanour of all the twenty-something year olds lined up behind him, all rowdy and thirsty for a drink and a dance. “We can’t get into a club, you know that.”
“Yes, but just, like, look at the open window once more. I mean, maybe we could sneak i—“
“Oh my god, no. We are not sneaking into a club.” I said firmly, planting my feet more sturdily on the ground for good measure, in case she decided to drag me. That had happened far too many times already.
“C’mon.” she whined. “Don’t you think it would be a good way to finish the night? This’ll be the last thing, I promise. And, I mean, we did some pretty risky stuff today. Why should this be any different?”
“’Cause this is more risky than everything we did today combined. Fuck, I’m serious. We’re not sneaking in there.”
“You’re not, but I am.” she corrected, beginning to hook her toes into the gaps between the bricks, using the nearby pipes to assist her up the wall.
“Shit, Eleanora, I’m serious. You’re gonna like, die in there.” I warned, yet she ignored me.
She won’t actually do it. She’s just teasing, I thought as I watched her travel further towards the ajar window. I huffed in annoyance and made small comments about all the things which could potentially happen to her, persuading her to climb back down. She still continued to disregard my warnings, though, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t worry me.
Then, she clambered through the opening, disappearing from my sight.
“Eleanora!” I hissed, immediately dashing forward.
Fuck. A pretty sixteen year old girl like her wouldn’t survive in a club like that alone. Not that I would either, but two is better than one. And she was my only promise of a bed to sleep in tonight. If I didn’t follow her, I would be sleeping on the streets.
I began my ascent up the wall, trying to remember exactly how she’d managed her way up and attempting to re-enact her movements. I fell through the window with much less finesse, and discovered myself in a men’s bathroom. I gathered that from the fact it smelt like piss. Thank god it was empty.
“Knew you’d follow.” A voice said smugly.
I looked up and wasn’t surprised to see Eleanora, leaning against the door comfortably like she’d been there for hours. I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t fight off the relieved smile which etched onto my lips at the assurance that she was safe.
“C’mon,” I said, draping an arm over her shoulder for protection and using my other hand to push open the door.
Upon entering the main area of the club, we were instantly bombarded with a storm of flashing lights. I squinted my eyes a few times to adjust, and already found my ears ringing from the pounding music.
“Fuck.” I said, barely able to hear myself. There were so, so many people, it was overwhelming. I’d been in clubs before, for the tour and stuff, but nothing was ever quite as packed and loud as this.
I turned my attention to Eleanora, and noticed her eyes shining brightly as she observed the scene before her. So this was her kind of place, apparently.
“We are not, and I repeat, not, gonna try buy a drink.” I said into her ear, pronouncing every syllable clearly to ensure she’d hear me.
“I don’t really want a drink anyway.” she shrugged. “I just want to dance.”
She ducked underneath my arm and took a few steps forward, not to the centre of the dance floor, but to the edges, right where I could see her. I watched with wide eyes as she began dancing off time to the music; throwing her hands up in the air and shaking her hair about.
I laughed at her ridiculousness, laughed at how cute she looked, and crossed my arms, leaning further against the wall.
“Dance with me, Harry!” she shouted over the music, jumping up and down to the beat.
I shook my head firmly, inching further up the wall. “No way.”
“Then what are you going to do? Just stand there?”
And yeah, she kind of had a point. I’d look like less of a git if I danced, rather than clung to the walls like a tight arse. I tentatively moved forward, joining her.
In a few minutes, we were both throwing our limbs around like proper idiots, laughing all the while. It was honestly so fun, just letting lose and not giving a single care in the world. Well, it was fun, until I my elbow carelessly whacked into something and I felt a wetness at my feet.
I spun around, alarmed, and saw a man in his twenties with a quiff, holding a near empty glass and inspecting the ground with a crease in his brow. I soon realised I’d split his drink, and nearly had a fit.
“Shit— fuck, I’m sorry. God, I—“ I began rapidly apologising, darting my eyes around in search of a solution.
“Look at this punk.” I heard the man sneer to a group of men behind him, who I presumed to be his friends. I audibly gulped, beginning to regret our decision to sneak into this club more than ever.
“I’m sorry, I—“ I said, trying to ease the situation when really it wasn’t doing me any good.
“You wanna go, mate?” the man snarled, threateningly, opening his arms out and stepping forward.
Oh god, I was about to get into a fight.
“N— no. Not really.” I said lamely, my voice coming out high and strained “Uh, I’ll give you money to buy another drink.” I promised, slapping my hands to my pockets. They were empty, and I was screwed.
I shot a glance to Eleanora, giving her a sheepish look, and was relieved when she pulled out a five pound note and tossed it to me. I handed it to the man and he snatched it from my grip, a bitter scowl on his lips as he stalked away, friends following close behind.
“We have to get out of here.” I said immediately, grabbing Eleanora’s hand and pulling her back in the direction of the men’s room.
Once we’d safely climbed down and were back to wandering along the street, hearts still pounding and ears continuing to ring, I spoke.
“God, that was scary. I thought I was actually going to get my head kicked in.” I admitted with a shaky laugh.
“Me too, for a second.” she agreed, giggling.
“I think that’s turned me of clubs forever.”
“Mhm. Hey, do you wanna head back now?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Yeah.” I replied, nodding feverishly. “Yeah, I think I’d like to go home.”
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