GAHH this book has been getting more popular lately and I love you all for that 💓

Movie 🎥 True Lies (1994)

Happy Reading xx

~T

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H A R R Y 🔫

  Scarlett was tossing and turning around right next to me on the bed, but she wasn't having a nightmare, she simply couldn't sleep. I assumed it was the thoughts of her father that were constantly running through her head, preventing her from getting any sleep at all. She exhaled harshly, running a hand through her lengthy hair as she sat up all of a sudden. I groaned tiredly, flipping onto my back as I stared up at her back. My hand moved up to touch her lower back, smoothening down the expanse of her back as I tried to soothe her with soft touches.

   "Scar? What's wrong?" I asked her quietly, even though I knew exactly what was wrong.

   "N-Nothing," she stuttered, her voice breaking. She was crying.

   "Baby," I cooed, sitting up quickly and wrapping my arms around her, pulling her into my lap.

  She sat on my lap, her arms laying on my chest as I held her to me. She let out a body-racking sob, finally allowing all of the grief take over her body as she sobbed violently. I had never seen her cry this much before, she cried as if her brain was being shredded from the inside. Emotional pain flowed out of her every pore. From her mouth, came a cry so raw that even my eyes were suddenly wet with tears. I wiped them harshly, shocked and slightly angry that I was actually tearing up because of someone crying. But that someone was Scarlett.

  She cried as if the ferocity of it might bring her father back. Her upper body and shoulders wracked with every sob that forced their way out, chest rising and falling unevenly as she gasped for breath. She clutched my t-shirt tightly, her endless tears wetting it as she squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face into my chest. Every noisy sob of hers tugged harshly on my heartstrings, making me pity her immensely. I didn't know what it was like to lose someone I've loved, even though I've never really loved anyone in my entire life. I was clueless as to what to do in this situation. Instead I just held her to me as if she was a fragile porcelain doll, murmuring soothing words into her ear as her crying gradually died down.

  She pulled away from my chest, and stared up at me with her big brown eyes, the sight of her causing my breath to hitch in my throat. Heavy breaths were falling from her parted lips, as she gazed at me with her tear-rimmed irises, with her cheeks glistening from her desolate tears. Her eyes fluttered close and head bowing down slightly, her features contorting in grief as she started to cry again.

   "Baby, no," I murmured, with one rough hand under her chin. I angled her face towards me and kissed away her tears. Her uneven breathing was scaring me a little, worried that she was going to have a panic attack or something. "Breathe Scar, it'll be okay," I told her softly, sighing in relief to see her following my words.

   "I'm sorry," she spoke up all of a sudden. Her voice was raw from crying.

   "What?" I mumbled in confusion, furrowing my brows as I cradled her cheek. "Why are you sorry?"

   "F-For crying. I thought I was over his death, but I-I'm not. I miss him so b-bad, Harry. He was always there to p-protect me a-and now I feel vulnerable without h-him," she rambled sorrowfully.

   "Baby, I'm here to protect you now," I told her gently, tucking a strand of her dark locks behind her ear.

   "Promise me."

   "I promise." I sealed my word with a firm kiss to her lips, tasting the salty tears on them as I kissed her reassuringly. "Why are you sorry for crying though?" I asked her curiously; wondering why was she apologizing for that in particular.

   "I'm an assassin now. Assassin's don't cry," she chuckled dryly, stating the words that I said to her a while back.

  "I suppose only the strong ones can," I told her with a soft smile, making her mirror my expression, causing my heart to melt in my chest. Even now, with puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks, she still looked like a beautiful angel. "I want to take you somewhere," I told her all of a sudden.

   "Where?" she furrowed her brows.

   "Somewhere."

   "Now?" she questioned.

   "Yes," I nodded, knowing that she won't be able to sleep for a few more hours, so why not take her somewhere. I needed to show her something, now that she was thinking of her father; I might as well just get it done with.

   "Okay," she simply said, pulling away from me to climb off the bed.

  We quickly got dressed, throwing on whatever we could find before we left the apartment. I laced my fingers with hers and I tugged her along with me. Even her hand was impeccably shaped to fit mine. Unbelievable. We headed to the part of the warehouse where all the vehicles were kept. All types of vehicles were parked in a large space, ranging from motorbikes to armored fighting motor vehicles, something similar to the Batmobile.

   "Is that yours?" she asked me in a hushed whisper, tugging on the sleeves of her hoodie as she eyed my Harley-Davidson Street 750.

   "Yeah," I breathed, handing her a helmet, which she gladly accepted and strapped on.

  Once we took it outside, I got onto it, pulling on my dark gloves before firing it up. I turned to Scarlett who was still eyeing the thing cautiously. I gestured for her to come forwards, and she did. She slowly got onto it behind me, before wrapping her arms around my midsection.

   "Hold on tight," I told her, feeling her tighten her hold on me at my words, and soon we were off.

  I didn't go as fast as I normally would, just for Scarlett's sake, I could tell she was slightly nervous, as she has never ridden a bike before. I could feel her breath on the skin of my neck, where her face was nuzzled into the crook of it. Her arms were wound tightly around my torso; as if she was afraid she was going to fall if she let go.

  The ride was short, about five minutes long. Where I was taking her wasn't really going to cheer her up, but I was sure she would be grateful if I showed her the place. It was dark, about two o'clock at night as we sped through the streets and into a desolate area of Nevada. I slowed down when we had arrived at the area, feeling Scarlett's arms unwrap around my body as she moved behind me to get a better look at the place.

   "Woodlawn Cemetery?" she frowned, reading the large words engraved onto a stone at the front of the place.

  She got off the bike, taking her helmet off and handing it to me. I copied her actions, turning the ignition of my bike off and setting it against a tree since nobody was around right now so I didn't have to worry as much about where to keep it. Grasping her hand again, I lead her through the cemetery, ignoring the strange vibes I was getting from the place itself. We walked towards one corner of the cemetery, where a part of it was sealed off as private property. A part owned by The Organization.

   "Why are we here?" she asked me, still not having to figure out why I brought her here in the first place.

  I stayed quiet, holding her hand firmly as we walked around a few gravestones, some of the names engraved into them seemingly recognizable to me, others; not so much. My eyes scanned the area for one particular gravestone, spotting it in the distance, a few meters away from us. I stirred Scarlett into the direction of it, stopping in front of it once I reached there.

   "Oh my god," she breathed once her gaze focused on the familiar gravestone. Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared down at it, my bottom lip quivering as she pulled it into her mouth.

  Right in front of us, was Russell Jone's gravestone. It was as grey as charcoal. Under the steady glow of the moon it seemed to have an aura of its own. Scarlett crouched down on her knees, coming face to face with it. She reached out, her delicate fingers touching the marble and running her fingers over the silvery engraved lettering. It was beautiful, polished and smooth. It was the most expensive option in the catalogue, but we had chosen it without hesitation. He was a man everybody had respected and admired, for his strength, his wisdom and his intelligence.

   "This reminds me of something," she muttered softly, standing up again and wrapping her arms around herself.

   "What of?"

   "The day we attended my mother's 'fake' funeral," she chuckled morosely, her words making my heart sink. "It was a small funeral. Not many people came. I remember myself weeping crocodile tears, but my father, he never cried. His face was as hard as stone. I always thought he didn't cry because he was just tough like that and didn't want to look weak. But now that I think of it, it was just because she wasn't actually dead," she spoke softly, her voice growing gradually quiet as she talked.

  I moved to wrap my arms around her, pulling her into a warm hug. She responded by winding her arms around my torso, burying her face into my neck as I held her close to me. My lips pressed against her temple in a firm kiss, causing her to sigh deeply. Her arms shifted, tightening as the moved up my back and clasped my shoulders while she left out a soft sniffle. Her cries were silent and barely audible, muffled by my dark jacket as she buried her face into my shoulder. My heart ached over and over again for her as she cried once again, although this time it was less emotional, as if she's finally accepted her father's death.

   "I miss him," she told me, once her crying had died down.

   "I kinda miss him too," I admitted, causing her to pull her head from my neck to stare at me.

   "You do?"

   "Yeah," I breathed, licking my lips as I stared down at her gorgeous face. "He was the only person who sort of...cared about me," I told her, furrowing my brows a little and pressing my lips into a firm line. I was somewhat opening up to her about how I felt about her Dad, and it felt weird to me, foreign. I wasn't sure if I should just go with the flow or hold back.

   "I care about you, Harry," she whispered under her breath, averting her gaze immediately as if she was scared of how I would react.

  She cared about me? Me? Harry Styles, the man who abused her physically, verbally, emotionally and mentally? The one who made her feel even more insecure than she already was? The one who made her cry every time I did something stupid and hurtful? How on earth did she find it in her to care about me? After all of the awful things I did to her? Her words couldn't help but make my heart melt. I was happy that I didn't feel alone anymore because I had her, but I was afraid that her care for me would grow stronger and eventually turn into what I feared the most: love.

  I cupped her cheeks firmly, staring her deep into her chocolaty eyes as she waited for some kind of response from me. I had no words to say, I was speechless. Instead of speaking I joined our lips. Kissing her was probably one of the best happenings in this world. The way her soft lips would fit perfectly with mine always had me in a daze; the way her warm tongue would collide against mine had my body flushing with heat. I was obsessed with her and her kisses were like my salvation. They always distracted me from all the anger and loneliness I was always feeling, they always saved me from this cruel world we were all living in.

  I pulled away breathlessly, my forehead resting against hers as my lips stayed a few inches away while I took in a couple of breaths. Her eyes fluttered open, gazing into mine innocently. A look of hurt and confusion flashed across her features, it disappeared so fast but I still managed to catch a glimpse of it. Why was she hurt? What did I do wrong this time? Did I say something that upset her? Questions like these ran through my mind as I tried to figure out why she was hurt, but her speaking distracted me.

   "Can we go get frozen yoghurt?" she blurted out all of a sudden, a short laugh escaping her perfect lips once she realized what she had just said.

   "Frozen yoghurt? You want frozen yoghurt at two A.M. in the morning?" I cocked an eyebrow at her in amusement, watching how a beautiful smile stretched across her lips as she looked away timidly. I loved it when she acted all shy and innocent with me; it was fucking adorable.

   "Yeah, frozen yoghurt always makes me feel better when I'm down," she mumbled shyly, pressing her lips together to gaze at me pleadingly.

   "You're lucky I know a place that's still open, even at this hour."

   "Yayyyy," she cheered, her sad grieving demeanor vanishing quickly as a more cheery one took its place. She must be feeling better now after she had had a good cry over her father's death, and visited his grave. She could feel more at ease now, in a way. "Let's go?"

  I nodded, kissing her lips swiftly before I tangled my fingers with hers, pulling her along with me as we exited the cemetery. We got onto the motorbike, and sped off.

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- Harry is so sweet now sigh* I keep reading back on the older chapters and it amazes me how much Harry has changed throughout the whole novel 😱

- thoughts on this chapter? What would you like to see more of in this book? Y'know like more Harlett scenes, more scenes with Louis and Dex? Stuff like that, would totally love to hear your opinions and thoughts ☺️

- I have a joint account with some fabulous people and we've got a rant book up there, why not check it out? BADLANDY 💖

Until we meet again...

~T