The silence was painful to say the least, as Isabel stared out of the window of the car. There was a low hum coming from the radio, but it was so quiet she couldn't quite make out the song playing. Even the traffic outside the black car seemed to be nothing but a dull lullaby as she sat uncomfortably in her clothes from the previous night. Her feet were sore from those high heels, to which she instantly regretted wearing, but could not deny how hot she felt.
Though she refused to make eye contact with Harry, she could not help but sneak a small glance at his figure. Sitting with his hands clenched around the steering wheel as he drove her back to her small house. It was weird, as it reminded her of their first time out when she got wasted. Isabel was young, new to the world and wanted to show Harry that she was fun and a risk taker after he told her she was just too innocent.
The night had ended with Harry punching a guy who wouldn't leave Isabel alone, then herself throwing up and Harry taking her back to his place before driving her home the next day. It was heroic of him and only now did the older version of herself scream at young Isabel to not fall for him. That she should run in the other direction.
Though she would claim to hate him, they shared a life. She was young, naïve and he was older, mature and captivating. He was giving Isabel everything she could imagine, showing her the spoils of the world and Harry once upon loved her. Defended her, made her laugh and cry. Made her so angry she wanted to slap him, but made her feel so safe and wanted. Isabel just had to remind herself that he was toxic, that he was twisted and messed up and the reason for her trust issues. The reason she went to therapy for years to try and come to terms with her situation and mental health.
It seemed the drive was shorter than she expected as they came to the familiar house, Harry pulling up. Isabel sat up, already holding her keys in her hand as she finally faced him. "Thank you," she spoke getting out from the car, though it seemed he also had gotten out from the car.
"We need to talk."
"I don't want to talk Harry, I've made that clear," Isabel spoke, walking towards her front door and opening it. She kicked off her heels straight away, but didn't bother locking the door. He had a key she knew that, he would just let himself in. So she may as well save her energy.
Walking straight towards her bedroom, she heard Harry shut the front the door while she quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and removing the rest of her makeup before walking downstairs to see him sitting at the table in her kitchen with two mugs of tea, his arms crossed over as he stared her down.
"I don't care, I want to talk angel."
She gritted her teeth, rubbing her face in pure frustration letting out a huff before turning to face him once more. Licking her dried lips, she shook her head before finally spitting out her words.
"You want to talk and you don't care. Fine, but I'm doing the talking Harry."
"Isabel that's not what I meant-"
"No no no, this is what you meant right? Another thing that you're controlling, that I don't get a choice. You want to talk?" she spoke, feeling the pure anger rise within her, years of paranoia, frustration and hatred towards the man in front of her.
"What should start with? You lying to me, blackmailing, uprooting everything I've worked for?" A scoff. "How about the fact you played on my conscious about a small child, or that you promised to ruin my whole life by taking my passport and freezing my bank accounts."
Another scoff.
"Maybe we should discuss your issues, you stalk me, gave me a false sense of safety twice when I was with you, and then up in Liverpool."
The list never seemed to cease, and Isabel could see the look on his face. But she didn't care, for years he had destroyed her and he wanted to talk, so she was going to talk.
"Maybe we should talk about how you murdered someone in front of me? Or you are the reason I have trust issues and went to see a therapist about it. Maybe we should discuss how possessive you are, or fucked up in the head Harry." Isabel almost could laugh at herself.
"So Harry, what do you want to talk about?"
He sat quietly staring at her for a moment, tilting his head at her words. Isabel was right, Harry knew that, he just wasn't quite ready to admit that she was correct. Harry was a complicated man, who thrived on blackmailing people, creating his money and turning everyone's world upside down. He had blood on his hands, and just as the world seemed to get darker he met Isabel. The brunette with tears down her cheeks, to which he resolved soon and fell in love with her smile.
He was trying to be a better person, he tried for Isabel when they were together, when she found out his true self. Harry tried but she left him in the middle of night, and he stopped trying to change. When people see good they expect good and Harry didn't want to live up to that false pretence. He wasn't good, Isabel knew that when she met him. She just didn't realise how bad he was, until the night when she saw him completely reveal himself in anger.
She spent months trying to fathom it, to try and see Harry as the good man she loved. But she couldn't, every time she tried the blood that pooled around his feet haunted her mind, like the eyes of the deceased man that Harry had killed in front of her. How was one to overcome that? She tried so hard to forget, but every time she looked at him, it was a reminder that he was evil. That he was never going to change, always the villain of the story and never the hero.
"I never wanted to hurt you Isabel," he spoke softly, staring at her. Her hair was pushed in a ponytail, she wore her glasses and not a single trace of makeup was on her skin. Her sore feet were on show, as she wore leggings and a top, much different to last nights outfit.
"But you did and you are still hurting me," she whispered to him, her lips forming into a pout as Harry shifted in the seat. Isabel had changed, he knew that, he watched her change but the way she stood up for herself, for her beliefs was different. That she wasn't the same innocent woman he had met, but tainted by his cruel nature had made Isabel become tougher to face the world. Yet she still held onto the light inside her, that was shown when she agreed to move to London in fear of the life of a child. Harry would never cause harm to a child, but he knew Isabel wouldn't trust him to take that risk.
"You're mine angel."
It wasn't as aggressive as all the times before, where he would hold her arms and whisper it in her ear. Or how he would kiss her and tease her, making her smile and agreeing she was his. Even now the way he spoke it, wasn't harsh or in a warning matter, but rather almost begging, pleading with the brunette to agree.
"I'm not yours, I'm not property or a trophy Harry, why can't you see that?"
The question naturally caught Harry off guard when she said that. All his life he had worked hard for everything, and his father took everything away from him. When Harry built up his empire not fully legally, his old man tried to take that. When he failed he went after Isabel, Harry did everything he keep her safe. She didn't even know it at the time, and she still didn't. Harry never told her and doubted he ever would. But one thing for sure, the thought of loosing her made him go crazy, mad enough to even claim her like some property. She was right, she always was and that was a reason Harry loved her.
"Isabel I-"
"Just leave me please," Isabel begged really not wanting to talk or to even argue. She didn't want to deal with Harry, not right at this moment. Deep down she cared for him, of course she did, they were in love once for years. Isabel just didn't like the way Harry handled things or even her for that matter. Which made her try and leave it all behind.
"Please Harry."
He knew better than to try and argue with her. No doubt her head was killing her and he could tell all she wanted to do was go to sleep. So he nodded, finishing the rest of his tea before standing from her kitchen table, walking towards her. A frown settled over his lips seeing her tense as he stopped next to her. Her eyes glued at her kitchen rather than him. Isabel was perhaps right, he needed to leave her be for now and approach the topic at a later date.
"Of course," he spoke before pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "See you at work," he spoke. Though he lingered for a brief moment, he sighed in defeat seeing Isabel making no move to even look at him, that Harry grabbed his car keys and jacket before stepping out from her house and towards the car. Leaving a tired and somewhat hungover brunette alone.
apologies on the lack of writing.
i caught covid and though i am fully recovered, i have been working from home !
hope you like it
unedited