Alouette looks away from Harry, her heart beating so fast in her chest that she fears it will break out of it.

The city is bright and loud, rushing past the window too quickly for her to focus on any of the buildings, and it does little to ease her stress. She can sense Harry's presence next to her and his woody but fresh smell impregnates the air in the vehicle, and she can't think of anything else.

She wants to hit herself for deciding to go out even though Harry told her not to, the stupidity of her actions shocking her now that she thinks of it. At the same time, though, she knows that he isn't truly mad at her because of that — the reason why he's so livid is that she caught him. She doesn't know what The Den is but, judging from his reaction, it's surely nothing good. He's terrified of the simple thought of her going around and telling people was she saw. Not that she has any intention of doing that, anyway.

Right when her thoughts are starting to soothe her, Harry finally speaks.

"Why don't you get me a coffee, Mathias?"

The guard reacts immediately.

"Of course, sir." He stops the car on the side of the road and gets out, leaving Alouette to wonder if Harry himself hasn't timed the request perfectly as well.

The vehicle gets locked again in the second he puts his foot on the pavement, and now Alouette and Harry are alone in the car.

The silence is heavy.

She dares to send a little look his way. He isn't looking at her, and from the impassive but burning of silent anger look on his face, she can tell he isn't planning on ever doing that.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, as if she actually believes it could fix whatever broke between them.

His fingers are long as they fiddle with the lock button. Normally she'd read it as a sign of nervousness, but there's certainty in his little skilled movements, and she's the one that gets nervous.

"I'm going to be honest with you, I'm disappointed," he says. "Do you know what it means to disappoint me?"

"I don't." Her voice trembles.

He hums, like a cat contemplating whether to lie some more under the sun or to kill a bird on the balcony right next to it. "Pray you won't find out."

She is taken aback by the explicit threat, and gulps. That's a side of Harry she's never seen before, one she made herself believe didn't exist. She was wrong, and if she had to put it in his words, she'd say he'd been indeed kind to her.

Until then.

But this is who he truly is beyond all the teasing and the pining and the playing and the bickering. To see him switch like that is terrifying, and it is a grim foreboding of what will happen in the eventuality he finds out what game she's been playing.

No amount of seducing would save her from his wrath.

"Let me tell you something about this world. It doesn't matter how smart you are, how rich you are, how old you are. If you want to survive,  you have to make the right friends." His fingers still on the button. "Do you think making me your enemy is a smart choice?"

A chill runs down her spine. If this is how he's reacting to whatever happened that evening, she doesn't want to think— she just doesn't want to think. "It isn't."

She does have the right friends, but she's sure none of them would be able to save her from the man next to her if he ever finds out the kind of friends she favours.

"Then why, Lark, would you go against me?" His tone is condescending, and anger simmers through her veins.

Still, she clenches her teeth and forces herself not to say a word. She doesn't need to make the situation even worse.

She wonders if that's how Harry rules the country. Apparently calmly and kindly, but ready to crush under his foot whoever goes against him— no matter who they are. It's obvious that he doesn't take opposition of any kind. His opinion is the only one that matters and everything anyone else says is irrelevant, he's ready to ruin whoever doesn't fall in line. She can only hope it'll be his downfall, too.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't care." The reply is cold. There's ice freezing in her chest.

The guard gets back inside and hands Harry a steaming cup of coffee, its strong smell filling up the vehicle and momentarily hiding the one of his cologne.

The car starts again and Harry puts it in the cup holder. He doesn't touch it again.

Did he only ask Mathias to get it for him so they'd be alone?

The silence between them is heavy again, but neither attempts to break it. Harry keeps staring ahead and so does Alouette, watching the road through the windshield and side-glancing at Harry from time to time, as if she expects him to jump her all of a sudden.

In the instant the vehicle stops within the protective walls of the palace Harry gets out and walks to the entrance. Another guard standing close by leaves his spot to run after him, quickly falling into the task of protecting him even within the walls of his own home.

Alouette sighs and says her goodbyes to Mathias before getting out as well. When she gets to the lift, Harry is nowhere to be found.

•   •   •

There's one thing Alouette found out in the last couple of days: Harry can be really complicated when he's mad.

And there's no denying she made him very, very mad. She'd never seen him that angered— until two days ago, at least. Even when she met him in the lift a little more than a week ago, he wasn't that upset. If his anger showed then, the opposite is happening now.

She's convinced nobody can be quietly seething as well as he does. If she wasn't as terrified as she is, she'd say he turned it into an art; the art of making sure whoever angered you knows you despise breathing their very same air.

Her pride is wounded and screaming on the ground, clutching its shoulder.

While if it was anyone else she'd pick it off the floor, scrub it clean, give it a new fancy dress and send it out to seek revenge, she knows she can't do that now. It doesn't matter how much Harry ignoring her pisses her off and makes her want to slap him just to force him to look at her, she can't say a word about it.

He's the president after all, and in a sense, the words he said to her in the car are right: she does need to make some friends if she wants to complete her task successfully, and unfortunately he's one of the friendships she has to keep for as long as possible.

Alouette has never liked delayed gratification much. She likes it even less now.

So even though it hurts her dignity whenever Harry glares at her or acts like she doesn't exist, she still takes it without saying a word, because she knows how irrelevant it all will be when the moment comes. Maybe, when the only thing standing between him and his death is her, he'll rethink his priorities. Unfortunately for him, that's a case he won't be able to plead.

So she bows and takes scraps and apologises over and over again even though she hates it, even though it's crazy to expect her to do all that for days when her only charge is to have got out when he told her not to. But she doesn't mention how ridiculous it all is, because she has to fix what shattered between them, that little sliver of glass that held them together. Now that same sliver has turned into sharp shards that clash against each other whenever they get too close, leaving them bleeding in their wake.

She's lost all her progress in a single afternoon, and now Harry wants nothing to do with her. She either has to convince him not to hate her again or find another way to weave the threads of her plan together so that the same end result will be guaranteed.

But it isn't easy to convince him to stay long enough to explain her reasons. It's like he decided to completely cross her out of his life, which makes no sense to her— until some days before, he couldn't stop telling her how interested he was in her, now he doesn't even look her way. Is it truly so easy to lose his trust?

If getting a hold of him is impossible, convincing him to hear her out is even harder.

The only time in the last two days she managed to stop him right as he was getting out of the video room, he turned her down with a glacial, "I do not wish to talk to you."

Before she could even figure out how to work her way around that, he was gone.

She ran after him in hopes of getting in the lift with him to physically force him to listen to her, but when she turned the corner he was quick to press the button to close the doors, sending her a deep glare before the metal doors hid him from view.

Now she's at her desk, working her way through a thousand papers she isn't even paying attention to. She might have to consider asking Evie what she did to get him to forgive her, now. It seems a too complicated task for her, and she doesn't care about him enough to come up with a complicated apology by herself.

All of a sudden Harry enters the room.

He doesn't even look at her before reaching Evie's desk. She stands up immediately and the conversation is quiet. No matter how much she strains her ears, she can't hear what they're saying.

When he's satisfied he walks into his office and closes the door after himself. The corridor is so silent that the sound echoes for a moment.

He didn't even acknowledge her existence.

Evie stands up and leaves. Some minutes after, she comes back with a cup of coffee.

It only takes a moment for Alouette to understand its purpose, and she stands up. "I can bring it to him if you want, you're already so busy."

Evie glances at her. "I don't think it would be a wise idea."

"Did he say anything about this explicitly?" She asks her, rounding her own desk.

"He didn't."

"Then please," Alouette begs her, "you know how it is when he gets mad at you, I need to fix it but he won't even listen to me. He won't even look at me. How am I supposed to make things better if he refuses to let me do just that?"

Evie sighs, but the sound is enough for her to know she already won. "Very well, I'm not responsible for whatever happens though."

Alouette sends her a grateful smile and takes the cup from her, knocking on Harry's door. She supposes it isn't the best time to get in without knocking, now.

She hears his low reply coming from the other side and opens the door, walking inside before he can say a word.

"Here's your coffee, sir," she says, trying to ignore the way her voice sounds a bit tense. She hopes he can't hear it.

She dares to look up at him as she nears him and there he is, majestic as ever, looking at her like he just caught her going through the wardrobe in his bedroom.

Alouette bites the inside of her cheek to keep herself from making any kind of comment that would make her situation even more complex to get out of, her grip on the cup tightening.

She reaches him and puts it down on his desk more forcefully than she intended, and watches in terror as some of the coffee overflows and spills on his papers.

It isn't much, but she knows it's enough. Dread fills her even before Harry can react.

He shoots to his feet and moves the papers away. "Is this a joke?" He hisses, his burning glare so hot that for a second she expects to go up in flames.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Out. Now."

Alouette doesn't let him tell her twice and rushes out of the room, her eyes wide in shock and her hands trembling.

This is the time he decides to murder me in my sleep, she thinks.

Evie sends her a confused glance, having heard the commotion coming from his office, but she just shakes her head, sinking into her seat.

The next time Harry gets out he doesn't acknowledge her again, but she welcomes it. Being ignored is better than whatever grim fate he could force down on her if he wanted to.

When her work day is over and she's finally able to go back to her room, though, she knows she has to come up with a plan b.

In the last weeks she got so comfortable with playing around with him that she forgot to do what she's there for— get every kind of information she needs.

In a sense, though, she didn't need to: after all, if she got close enough to him, she would have easy access to all she needs. Unfortunately for her, though, she messed up that part of the plan.

She isn't a spy, but she knows she has to do things the classic way now if she wants to finish what she's there for. It'll be easier to get caught this way, but she doesn't have any other option.

She sits down on her bed and crosses her legs.

Point one: she's supposed to shoot him.

Nathan informed her that he'll give her the gun only some days before she's supposed to do it— they don't want to risk anyone finding a weapon on her, so it's wiser to make sure it's in her hands as little as possible.

Point two: in order to do that, she's supposed to bring Harry out of the palace.

According to the plan, this part will have to take place only some minutes after the Revolution attacks the palace. If she does it too soon, the guards at the lower levels will stop her. If she does it too late, the entire building will be on lockdown, and they'll be stuck in the upper floors while the battle roars beneath.

She has to find that perfect moment to make him disappear, the one when the lower floors are in shambles enough to get distracted but the main alarm still hasn't rang, leaving the upper floors unaware. Communication at the palace works in segments: it takes a couple of minutes for information to rise from the bottom to the very top. That's the time she has.

If she's too late, Harry will be taken into custody and every soldier of the Revolution will die. She has to be quick, so that they too will be able to retreat before things get tough.

She doesn't even want to think of the possibility of Elijah being amongst the brave people that will attack Harry's palace just to give her a chance to kill him and escape.

But taking Harry out of the palace doesn't seem an easy task now. She was hoping to lure him out, but now it looks like she'll just have to threaten him with the gun and hope he's scared enough to do whatever she says. She can't imagine Harry ever being scared.

But she can't just take him down the lift with a gun to his head, she'd surely be stopped like that.

Point three: she has to find a way to sneakily take him out of the building.

She'll have to explore in order to do that.

And, lastly,

Point four: she has to find out where he will be when the attack happens.

She has to get a hold of his schedule. More than that, she has to know everything about him.

The disaster of some days ago let her know that not everything he does is on Evie's schedule, so stealing it isn't enough.

It's time for her to gather every scrap of information she can about him, no matter how small or irrelevant it is, and she just might know where to start. If the president wants to play, she'll create her own rules.

Over the last few days, Harry visited the mysterious inhabitant of the room next to her two more times.

Thankfully she couldn't hear them, but she heard his steps stopping in front of her room and his knocks on her door at the oddest times, his whispers in the corridor. She saw the cloud of smoke rising into the night sky from the balcony opposite to hers, once.

Whoever that girl is, she's a good enough starting point: close enough to give her a bit of information, distant enough from Harry to make sure he won't get suspicious.

That evening Alouette stays in her room and only eats a candy bar as she waits for her to leave to go out to dinner. It's the best way to guarantee she'll have enough time to take a look around.

When she finally does, she throws away the wrapper and walks to her balcony.

One part of her believes she's going crazy, and she probably is. But trying to force open her neighbour's door is too risky and she could easily get caught.

The cold air of the night hits her when she steps out and she shivers. She's glad she put on a warm sweater.

She takes a deep breath, forcing herself not to look down at the deadly fall that waits for her if she loses her balance, and then hesitantly hoists herself on top of the railing.

She stands up on it carefully and puts her hand on the wall, for a moment fearing the wind will make her fall down. The glinting lights of the city get her attention and she glances at them, but looks away quickly when her head spins.

Keeping her hand on the wall and the other on the little separation between the balconies, she puts her foot on the other railing. It isn't a small step but it isn't a big one either, and then she's on the other side.

Alouette swiftly jumps down onto the balcony and glances at the room through the glass.

The light is still on, but she knows her neighbour left. What a waste of energy, while the Revolution has to deal with shortages every other night.

She tries the French window and smiles when it opens easily. After all, who would bother locking their balcony door when their bedroom is about three hundred feet above the road?

She leaves the window open and glances around, taking in the messy bed and the multitude of objects and clothes on the desk. The wardrobe is open and some clothes are hanging out. It looks like someone had a difficult time getting dressed that evening.

Alouette ignores the messy bed and scans the desk, shaking her head when she realises nothing interesting is on it. Then she gets to the nightstand and pauses.

There's a forgotten badge on it, belonging to a certain Mia Walker.

She takes it, reading the name on it and making a mental note of it in case it'll turn out to be useful. It doesn't say much else if not her age — she's 3 years older than her — and her date of birth. From the coloured line on it, though, she can tell she works in the room where Harry shoots his videos.

She wonders if that's enough to suppose Harry likes to go there often during the day, even though he doesn't seem the kind to run away from his daily duties to hit on someone.

All of a sudden she hears steps coming near the door, and before she can realise it someone is typing down the code to get in the room.

Alouette puts the badge down and is only able to get out on the balcony again before the door is opened.

"Wait for me, I'll get my badge. Can't believe I forgot it here, I'm such an idiot sometimes."

She presses herself against the dark corner of the railing, hoping nobody will get close to the window enough to see her.

"Your room is a mess, do you ever clean?" A female voice replies, and Alouette starts to panic when she realises she's going around the room to tidy up a bit while her friend looks for her badge.

She has to leave now.

She's breathing so quickly that she's afraid she'll pass out as she gets on top of the railing again.

When she tries to make the step, though, her foot slips.

She catches herself quickly and grips the separation wall harshly, getting an eyeful of the ground that's six hundred feet below her.

She's about to throw up, she's sure of it.

She tries to make the step again and this time around it works out, and she lets herself fall in her own balcony, lying down on its floor and looking up at the stars as she catches her breath.

That was so close.

When she's sure her internal organs aren't about to melt inside of her, she stands up and walks back into her own bedroom, throwing herself on the couch. If she closes her eyes, she can still see the asphalt.

The next couple of days go by in a similar fashion when it comes to Harry, and even though she doesn't dare to go on any other missions again while her last experience is still too fresh on her mind, she makes sure to observe whatever Harry does and note everything she sees in her mind first, and on a piece of paper when she gets back to her room, that she always makes sure to hide somewhere it won't ever be found.

Harry keeps ignoring her or glaring at her, and Alouette is starting to grow tired of having to find ways to get him to forgive her. She's starting to think it won't ever happen, regardless of what she does or says.

And so she keeps track.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter x
Miki