Over the next few days, I keep waking up in an empty apartment, going through the day exactly as the day before. I make myself food a couple of times a day, stalling every time so I'll have kept myself busy at least a couple of minutes more. Then, I sit in front of the television, watching Netflix, the number of TV-shows to watch rapidly decreasing. At this rate, it won't be long until I'm completely bored out of my mind.

I still haven't been able to locate a telephone charger, so I've been completely shut of from the outside world. Once, I have tried to put on a news channel, to make sure an apocalypse hasn't happened while I've been here, but it was blocked so I still couldn't watch it.

At the moment, I'm hanging upside down in the couch, absently watching Narcos, even though the show doesn't interest me one bit. The least it does is kill the deafening silence. It's around three in the afternoon and Harry isn't due back for many more hours. Not that I ever see him. He makes sure to come home later and later, so he doesn't have to run into me. I figured that one out pretty quickly, so now I simply go to my room at around eleven and try to bore myself into sleeping.

Not even the house maid talks to me, she doesn't even look at me! I think he forbade her to. So I don't even have to worry about keeping a clean house. Not that I'm an untidy person, I wouldn't mind doing the household chores, it would at least keep me busy. I've started to worry if Harry'll even let me attend school in a few weeks.

Basically, he's keeping me hostage here..

When the elevator pings, I'm not expecting it, so I stare at it for a few seconds more. I've probably started imagining things. But when the doors open and they reveal a frazzled looking Harry, I quickly roll out of the couch, hitting the floor with a thud.

"Ow."

I sit up and watch Harry stalk closer to me.

"How old are you, three?" he asks with disdain.

I scoff and cross my arms in front of me.

"Maybe."

If he thinks he can come in here and act like he owns the place, he's got another thing c-, oh wait, he does.

"Sorry." I mutter instead, looking down at the floor.

I hear him let out of a sigh and hear some rustling. I look up through my eyelashes, sneaking a peek. He's running his hands through his hair.

"What are you doing home anyway, you're never this early." I barely dare to utter the question, but it is very uncharacteristic of him. I could have prepared him a late lunch if he had bothered to inform me, or an early dinner, or set up a bath, or ...

I'm cut of from my rambling thoughts as Harry speaks up again.

"I got a call from the immigration services, congratulating me on my recent nuptials and to inform me they'd like to meet my new spouse."

I gulp, the way he's saying it, it's not an invite to have lunch together.

"What does that mean?" I hesitate to ask.

He crouches down, leaning his arms on his knees with his fingers knit together.

"I hope you're really as smart as your brother says you are, because you have one evening to memorize every single part of my life and you better not fail. Or else."

His gaze is menacing and he doesn't need to finish that sentence for me to know what he means.

My eyes flicker up to meet his emerald green eyes.

"What about my life, you'll have to answer questions too, right?"

His whole posture changes, intimidating me even more. I can't help regret my words, I've never talked back, which is probably why he picked me. He unhooks his fingers and as he moves, I can't help but close my eyes, bracing for impact. An impact that doesn't come, and when I next open my eyes, he's a few steps away from me, his index finger and thumb tapping against his chin as if in thought. Suddenly, he looks back at me and I back into the couch, afraid of his next move, even though he's never physically harmed me before.

"So what do you propose we do, silly girl?"

I ignore his insult.

"How 'bout we play twenty questions?" I know my suggestion is silly, a game for children, but it could be effective. "I mean, it's a start? " I start rambling, not knowing what Harry's thinking, but next thing I know, he takes place on the couch only a few centimeters from where I'm sitting on the ground.

Does this mean he's open to my idea? He looks at me expectantly, and I realize he's waiting for me to ask the first question.

I clear my throat and scramble up to sit next to him on the couch. I sit cross-legged and face him. He raises an eyebrow at my position on his couch, clearly not agreeing, but he doesn't say anything, so I don't move.

"First question, what's your full name?"

"Harry Edward Styles." He says, as though he's bored. "You should already know that though from our wedding vows, Rose Callie Styles, née Hadley"

Well, it's not like I was paying much attention to your name, while the bullets were flying around my head. I think, but I don't tell him that. Instead I say:

"Right, uhm, your turn to come up with a question."

He taps his index finger against his jaw, as if he has to think about a question for a while and then asks me what my favorite color is.

Did he really have to think about such a silly question? It's not like that's going to come up in the interview tomorrow.. Or would it? Damn, if I'd fail the whole thing because I don't know his favorite color..

"Uhm, pink, I suppose. What's yours?"

"Figures." He mutters, while rolling his eyes and I try not to get offended by his remarks. "Orange & blue." he answers then, without much hesitation. He then looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to come up with the next question. I decide to move on from the generic questions and onto the more important ones that will actually tell us stuff that we need to know tomorrow.

"Did you have any pets while growing up?"

His eyes grow a little bit distant as though reminiscing.

"A few actually, my first was a dog named Max, but I love all animals."

"Really? What's your favorite animal?"

"Turtles," comes his next reply, without hesitation. I nearly burst out laughing, until I realize he's absolutely serious. "Did you have any? Pets I mean?"

I hesitate, the answer burning my throat. "No... My parents never thought I was responsible enough to take care of another being and when they... passed, I didn't feel the need to have a pet any more."

He doesn't respond. Obviously he knows of the circumstances that led Roan to work for him, so he doesn't need to ask about it any more, for which I'm glad. I don't think I'd have been able to talk about them. I already can't swallow the lump in my throat.

"Favorite type of candy?"

I'm painfully thankful that Harry moves away from the sore topic, a smile immediately taking over my features as I try to think of my favorite candy. Well picking one more like it. I blow a raspberry with my lips and frown.

"How do I choose?!" I exclaim. "They're all awesome. You don't have any though. That's such a shame. Do you think I could add some to the shopping list? You're like freaking Dr. Oz when it comes to food!"

"Don't swear." he interjects, making me look up at him in surprise. Seriously? I only said the word 'freaking', does that even count as swearing?

"O-kay." I say, rolling my eyes and prolonging the 'O'. "Well, moving on." I say, for the sake of keeping the peace, while flipping my hair back behind my shoulders.

Eventually, we get over the awkwardness and snarky side comments and genuinely start to get to know each other, well into the night, until I can't suppress my yawns anymore. That's when Harry seems to realise how much time we have spent here and he clears his throat.

"You should go to bed." he says, belittling me again, standing up and already moving towards the bedrooms, leaving no room for discussion.

I frown, hating the way he decides things for me, instead of with me. But I guess I'm really tired and I really don't want to mess up tomorrow, so I follow him shortly after, entering my own bedroom, while trying to sneak a glance at his. Will I ever be allowed in there?