a/n: when in the flipping fudge did I get over 300 followers?
I don't think I've ever took this long to update a chapter, sorry! This chapter is extra long. [3,300+ words]
Our trip to the cabaret was lengthy. I spent most of my time on the train napping or 'tossing and turning,' as they say. I even daydreamed of what the show would be like.
But vicious thoughts also came to mind, like what was the absolute real reason Harry and I are attending this cabaret? Not only is this trip so random but I also can't help but wonder that Harry possibly arranged this in order to 'get away' from his father... but then again, this is Harry and he loves to go to social events. I just don't know what to think.
Like the last time we were on a train, a number of people have also joined us. And by number of people, I don't mean our friends and family, I mean our bodyguards, whom seem like real nice men. The five of them seem to be really close friends with Harry and I can tell because all they do is laugh together... Okay, so it wasn't the best nap.
"Hey, are you up?" Harry whispers.
"Never slept," I admit yawning but Harry laughs, thinking I'm being sarcastic.
But surprisingly, I must have slept for some sort of time because we seemed to have arrived to our destination.
We all get off the train in an orderly fashion. The guards grab our two bags and we head over to a big black car.
Harry and I sit closely to one another, hand in hand until we reach our hotel. I keep quiet for the car ride too, not wanting to embarrass myself in front of five men and a driver, I'm supposed to be classy, after all.
The driver parks us in front of the hotel. I'm not sure how long we're staying here but I imagined us to stay for only one night, though if Harry thinks a hotel is necessary then it probably is. Who knows, I may be here the whole week. Two staff members from our hotel, stand by the front doors of the hotel, holding them for us as we make our way towards them. At a steadily pace Harry and I walk to them, our security guards all around us.
At random, Harry leans to my ear and whispers: "same rules apply here, Gisele. You don't go anywhere without my permission."
I bite my lip.
Next thing I know, he's squeezing my hand and standing still. Instantly, making the bodyguards and myself still too. "Do you understand?" He asks, cold-heartedly.
"Yes." I say, looking down, ashamed that our relationship is lacking trust.
"Okay, good." Harry nods.
We continue the walk with three of our guards ahead of us and two behind us. I kept my head down the entire walk, not only because I saw and heard the flashes of cameras or people shouting our names, but because Harry sometimes makes me feel degraded. I'm his fiancée for crying out loud.
Finally at the entrance, Harry and I rush forward. I look up for a moment wanting to see the interior of the hotel but am instead stunned to see that the staff in the hotel is all surrounding the lobby, clapping for us.
I give a small smile, my mood slightly getting better.
"How cute," I whisper to Harry.
He chooses not to respond and I huff. If I thought that the staff greeting us with applause could make me happy, leave it to Harry to ruin that for me.
I drop his hand, frustrated with his behavior. Instantly he grabs at my hand and squeezes it, again. He stops us from walking for a second time and looks at me; he holds onto my neck and kisses my lips, surprisingly.
I shut my eyes as he goes in for another kiss. He slowly takes his hand off my neck, "don't do that again." He sneakily whispers.
He grabs my hand for the hundredth time and we continue walking.
I'm sure if it weren't for all the people flashing lights at us and applauding, he wouldn't have asked me so politely to not let go of his hand.
And so I huff again.
We all cram into the pretty little elevator. It's gold all around and there is a mirror on the ceiling. I tap at Harry's shoulder and point at the mirror, wanting him to look at it. He does for a mere second then stares at our escort.
"Ten," Harry tells him.
The elevator escort presses onto the button of our level and the elevator escalates. A bell signals our arrival to the level and we are yet again moving to reach our hotel room.
A bellboy is sat up against the wall, beside our room, probably tired of waiting for us for God knows how long. However, once he spots us he stands to his feet, smiling. He has a cart next to him with our small bags. I don't question why we have a bellboy; I assume its just compliments of the hotel.
Harry and I are finally let alone as the security men go to their rooms, which are all on this level, mostly across from us.
When Harry swipes his hotel card into the door, we are granted access and we enter the hotel room. He opens the door for the bellboy and me.
"Just leave the bags in the bedroom." Harry says to the guy as Harry takes off his blazer and unbuttons his black dress shirt.
I take off my heels, my feet aching at how uncomfortable the new shoes feel.
Harry takes a seat on the couch, crossing his legs and looking over to me. "Come here."
I make my way over to him until I hear a loud sound of something tumbling over.
I gasp, "one sec!"
Harry sighs, "Gisele, he can handle it."
I widen my eyes at him. "Let me go check. What if he's hurt?"
"It's two fucking duffle bags." Harry says, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
"Well excuse me for being kind." I make my way to our bedroom and notice the bellboy holding onto a lamp only two inches above the ground.
"Caught it," the guy smiles.
I smile too, "good."
The bellboy picks up the lamp and places it onto the table. He stands straight and clears his throat. "It's a pleasure to be in your presence, princess."
My smile lingers, "yours as well."
Suddenly, Harry wraps his hand around my waist.
Somehow the bellboy stands straighter. "The bags are placed on the dresser, Prince Harry."
Harry only nods, placing a kiss on my neck. Unsure of what to do the bellboy glances to the floor, "I'll be heading out now." He explains. He walks around us and shuts our hotel door. I turn to Harry, hitting his shoulder, "what was that for?" I ask, referring to how he made the bellboy uncomfortable.
"What?" He dares to ask.
"You're unbelievable," I spit. I attempt to walk away but am grabbed.
His breath hits my face, "why are you mad at me?"
I look into his eyes, noticing how serious Harry is. His sad and soft look sort of makes me feel guilty.
"I don't know..." I sigh.
Harry smirks, "you don't know?"
"Well it's a lot of things," I say truthfully.
Harry licks his lips and tilts his head, puffing out a small amount of air from his lungs. "I'm sorry." He says to me.
But is he really?
I don't bother to explain why he's made me upset, I'm satisfied knowing that he apologized, knowing he was wrong. "It's okay," I forgive.
Men. And they say women are complicated.
"We should probably call up some food yeah?" He asks, moving over to the nightstand that has a telephone.
"Yeah."
I decide to go over to my duffle bag and grab out the outfit I'm going to be wearing for tonight. Thought I should hang it, so it won't be wrinkly.
I take out the dress, it's short sleeved, covering my cleavage and is extremely fit to my body. Its color is grey with medium sized sequences covering it all. I grab a hanger from a clothing rack beside the dresser and hang my dress. I even spot a makeup bag and pull it out, surprised to see that Harry would even put together a bag for me.
I unzip it, spotting a hairbrush, an unopened and unused toothbrush and paste. As for accessories, he's included a large bracelet and a pair of small chandelier earrings. There is hairspray, bobby pins, and a peach compact powder for my cheeks along with a blush brush, mascara, a mini mauve color lipstick and a thong?
I smile to myself.
Aw.
I turn over to look at Harry, who's on the bed, topless and has his belt unbuckled from his skinny, dark jeans. His elbows are crossed and he lays his head over them, his eyes shut.
I walk over to him, cautiously, wondering if he's actually asleep. I watch as he peeks one eye open then smiles at me.
"Hi," he says in the raspiest voice I've heard from him, yet.
I crawl over to him, laying my head on his chest and clinging my body to his by wrapping my legs over his and hugging his torso.
"I got us breakfast."
I hum, "sounds good."
The breakfast arrives not to long after Harry and I's cuddle. I don't eat much knowing I have an event to go to tonight. I stick to eating a bagel and half a piece of bacon.
Harry eats a lot of everything and finishes his plate right when I take the last I can eat of my bacon strip.
"That's all you're going to have?" Harry asks, furrowing his eyebrows.
I swallow, "yeah..."
Harry picks up a pancake and slaps it onto my plate, he grabs maple syrup and pours some onto the pancake, letting it drizzle all around the plate as well and then he picks up a cube of butter and sets it on the middle of the pancake. "You're eating for two." He reminds me.
I look at the pancake.
Harry grabs my fork and knife, cutting the pancake for me, "you've got to eat more, babe."
I shift in my seat. "Harry...Can I ask something?"
Harry places a piece of my pancake in his mouth before he puts my plate back in front of me, handing me my fork that he used.
"Anything," he says with his mouth full.
"What if the- our child isn't a girl? You've already tattooed an "A" on you..."
"Hm," Harry thinks. "If it's a boy... we can name him Adolf."
Adolf? "Um," Really Harry? "Do you have anything else in-"
"Jew mad?" He asks, unsmiling.
"Jew?"
"Because I did Nazi that one coming!" Harry laughs hysterically.
I crack a smile and a giggle too; glad to know he's just trying to be funny. "That was so awful," I grin.
His laughter soon dies down. "I like the name Aiden." Harry says, seriously. He puts his hand on my knee and gives me a kiss on the lips and I realize how good the maple syrup tastes. Maybe I should eat a portion of the pancake.
I lick my lips as he stares at me.
"Eat up, babe."
We spend most of the morning getting ready for the night. After breakfast Harry took out his suit and called for someone to come steam it for him.
I asked about Leah too because it would've been nice if she were here to help prep me for the night but Harry says he doesn't want me to be "too fancy" since he won't be.
During the afternoon Harry and I go to the downstairs restaurant of the hotel. Our conversations were kept short and I was only quiet because of my anxiousness for the Broadway show, as for Harry... who knows what goes on in that mind of his.
Not to mention we were the only two people having dinner in the entire restaurant besides our guards who sat a table away from us, so if Harry wanted to... behave naughty... as he usually does, then he didn't get the opportunity.
Once we got back to our suite, I basically jogged over to the bathroom, wanting to shower and just get ready to leave for the show. Nothing is more exciting than knowing you've got plans that you can't wait to attend too.
Once I get into the bathroom I take the hair tie off my hair and grab a towel. I slip off my multi-colored dress and put it beside the sink.
As I was about to take off my bra, I felt Harry's lips peck at areas of my neck. His hands were already on my waist, moving upwards to my breasts where he lifts, pulls and squeezes them. I watch in the mirror as he stains my skin by sucking and biting, I'm forced to hold onto the bathroom counter. I wince, trying to move away from his lips as the pressure of his teeth starts to become painful.
He ignores my attempted escape and instead presses his body against mine, where I can feel his well-known bulge against my bum. I unwillingly bend at my hips, my bottom pushed firmly against him. He groans, opening his lips and biting at my earlobe as I keep my moans in, my mouth only parted.
He grabs a fist full of my hair and I have to groan aloud. I put my hand on top of a knob that operates the sink and completely bend for Harry; his lips hastily marking every bit of skin he can possibly attack at the moment. He begins to pull down my underwear and loosen his hold on my hair, at the same time.
Of course I had asked my doctor if it was all right to have intercourse while pregnant. Not only did I ask him in person but Harry made sure that we called him to have a one on one talk about the topic...Harry was very... curious about it all.
According to Kenneth, my doctor, we could continue to have interactions till my water breaks, literally. Although he says if I face any pain it's best that we stop. I plan on us stopping once my bump is noticeable. But as long as Harry has a dick and I have a vagina, who knows exactly when he'll want to stop.
Kenneth did say I'd possibly have more of a 'vaginal discharge or moistness' now but that's 'only an advantage,' as Harry said.
I hit my fist beside my head, as my cheek is flat against the countertop.
Harry puts his fingers on my waist, letting go of my hair completely. He grabs both of my hips and grinds down on me so that he runs the tip of his penis along my slit. When did his boxers come off? I don't know. But his teasing starts to bring tears to my eyes.
"Hurry," I tell him, afraid that I'll orgasm sooner than usual.
"Don't be greedy," he says. He grabs my left hand and holds it against my back while his other hand is used to position himself.
He kisses down my spine before plunging himself into me.
I whimper, loudly.
"If they weren't there, you know I would've probably fucked you on top of the food. I wanted to spill that wine all over you. You should give me applause for having such good self-control. Maybe a 'yes, daddy' would suffice? Because going through a dinner without being explicit is simply breaking tradition and it's too soon to be doing that."
I smile slightly, well as much as I can since my face is pressed onto the cold, white countertop.
Harry pulls out and stands still. "I'm being serious..."
"Oh, um yes daddy!"
He caresses my ass. "Ask for it or I won't put it in."
I blush, enjoying this more than I should. "Give me it, daddy. Please?" I moan as he slides himself in.
"My... fuck, Gisele." He pants. He keeps a steady rhythm as he and I meet half way.
He orgasms before me, the feeling making me come instantly. He grabs me by my shoulders, turning me around and kissing me ever so passionately against my lips. I lay my head against his chest, exhausted as he wraps his arms around me.
"You're so worth it," he whispers.
<>
"Harry, they keep knocking on the door!' I tell Harry as I pass him, walking out of the bathroom and blindly putting on my earrings. He stands tall in his black long sleeve shirt that has white hearts and is in the process of pulling up his pants.
"Tell them we'll be out shortly," Harry says to me as he bends down picking up his socks and hurriedly putting them on.
I rush over to the door, opening it to stop the knocking and all the while holding the backing to my earring.
"Just a minute, boys." I tell the impatient guardsmen.
The tallest clears his throat, surprised. "Sorry, princess."
"We'll be out in five," I smile, closing the door and heading towards our bedroom, clipping my earrings in, successfully.
"Harry, we're late and this is the second time that we asked for more time," I shout.
I go to my bag and take out a pair of black suede shoes that Harry put in there, they're approximately four inches but I'm happy he picked these out so that I don't look too short next to him.
I slip them on and turn around watching him put on his black blazer.
"I like the hearts." I grin, pointing to his shirt.
"I like you."
Smiling wide I walk over to him, giving him an air kiss, "lip-stick" I point out.
He grabs my hand, "it'll start shortly but they know we're coming. So they'll stall till we're seated."
I nod, perks of being a Prince.
The drive to the show isn't long; it's almost ten minutes away from our hotel. The outside of the building is busy as hell, though. Valet men running around and so many people walking towards the theatre.
Once we're let out the car and from the moment my heels touch the red carpet, I notice flashes go off. Harry walks around the car, meeting me and locking his hands with mine. Usually, I'm too shy to look up to the cameras or am one to give any attention to paparazzi but this is the first time that Harry tells me:
"Look up and smile, give the cameramen a good look."
I try my best to hide my scowl, obviously disapproving how Harry is asking me to be comfortable with this when he knows I'm not. He's never said this to me before and I can only think that this- my face on a magazine is somehow related to his father... I don't know how, but I have a feeling.
I smile anyway, holding Harry's hand and looking up to him, hoping the paps will give us a good cover, for Harry's sake.
Inside, the theatre is busy, people chatting loudly and finding their tables. There are women in fancy dresses and men in suites. I'm not one to gossip but Harry and I certainly stand out in a way, in a better way I'd like to think. The crowd seems so... proud, confident and self-centered. Well we are in District Three.
Harry leads the way to our suite, which has a booth; we take our seats as the lights dim and everyone hushes. Looks like we came right on time; no pun intended.
"This is fancy," I smile to Harry as I pat down my dress and get comfy.
The dimples on his cheeks enlarge as he smiles back, "do you like it?"
"It's nice, so far."
"I'm glad-"
"Sh!" I shriek excitedly. "The curtain's opening." I bite my lip.
Harry puts his hand on my thigh and the show begins.
I don't know what to expect.
a/n: I'll have to edit later.
My absolute favs on FOUR are: Night Changes, No control, Stockholm Syndrome and Where do broken hearts go?
...yas.