extra-long chapter for you lovelies! Harry crying makes my heart break omfg. Some of Harry's background is revealed in this chapter!

Movie 🎥 Die Hard (1990)

Happy Reading xx

~T

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S C A R L E T T 💣

  Harry seemed strangely cheerful after taking his pain meds, swinging our arms together as he tried to skip happily.

   "Harry stop frolicking around like a little girl!" I scolded him lightly, watching him wince as he skipped a little too enthusiastically.

   "But Scar," he whined childishly, making me laugh a little. He had already taken some of the painkillers and this was clearly the effect of one of them, him acting like an adorable five year-old.

  He started rambling on about nonsense on how his mission went as I unlocked the door to the apartment, swinging it the door open and waiting for Harry to step in. He started skipping again, wincing greatly before tripping over his own feet. I almost had a heart attack when he did that, breathing out in relief when he managed to steady himself. He looked back at me with a cheeky grin, making me glare at him in irritation.

  I tugged him along to the bathroom, carefully helping him strip down so he'd be more comfortable. His hands grasped my hips all of a sudden, lifting me up before setting me onto the granite counter next to the sink. He stood in between my legs with a faint smile, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, the sweet gesture making my heart flutter. I started using a wet cloth to clean up the blood from his face; examining it for any open cuts or wounds, happy to find out that there were none that were too serious.

  The skin under his eyes was dark purple, which probably needed ice to ease the pain there. The skin covering his right cheekbone was a harsh red and was starting to form a bruise. I made a mental note to get some ice for his eye and cheek later, once I was done with cleaning his face. My hand clasped his cheek gently, tugging it closer to bring the wet cloth up to his bleeding lip.

  My eyes focused on his heart-shaped lips, dabbing the lower one gently, trying to soak up the blood. My breath hitched in my throat when my gaze flickered upwards, meeting his minty irises. I was caught off-guard when he suddenly pressed his warm lips against mine, filling in the gaps created ever so perfectly. Fingers laced in with his curls, I sighed lightly into the kiss, fisting the strands gently when his teeth graze my bottom lip before sinking into it. He kissed me in a reassuring way, as if he was trying to tell me that everything was okay and he was going to be just fine, probably sensing my worry and anxiousness.

   "Scar," he breathed once we had broken the kiss, his forehead resting against mine as he stared deep into my eyes.

   "Harry," I simply responded, a heavy sigh falling from my lips as my eyes broke our intense gaze.

  It landed on the bandaged wound on his torso, my hand sliding down his chest slowly to trace it. A somewhat sad guilty expression appeared on my face. I was feeling somewhat guilty for not being there to protect him, it may sound silly if I told him but it was a serious thing for me. I loved him and it pained me to see him in agony, I know he'd feel the same way for me even if he didn't love me.

   "It's nothing." His voice broke into my thoughts, causing my gaze to snap upwards to meet his. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, before sliding into the gaps between my own, linking our hands together.

   "No it's not," I shook my head with an upset frown, making him mirror my own expression but with slight annoyance.

   "Jesus Scarlett, I don't understand why you treat me like I'm a weakling. It's just a broken rib and a scratch, nothing more," he grunted in irritation, making me bite my lip at the harsh tone he used.

   "I'm not treating you like that, Harry. I just don't like seeing you in pain, or injured. It reminds me that I can't always protect you," I told him lowly, causing his gaze to soften a little. "So when there's a way to at least prevent any harm from getting to you, I'd like to take that opportunity," I explained, making him nod slightly.

   "I get where you're coming from," he muttered, his gaze lowering a little. My hand moved to push his chin up to meet my gaze, before sliding it against his cheek to cup his face.

   "Wouldn't you feel the same way if you were in my position and I was in yours?" I asked him.

   "I suppose I would, but I'd probably be a hundred times more worried and upset. Like when you risked your life for me," he reminded me, making me nod with a small smile.

   "Now you understand."

   "I do," he nodded, leaning closer until our noses were brushing. "It's because you care about me, and I guess it's nice to have someone care about you this much," he grinned lightly, making me smile at the sight of his gorgeous smile.

   "It sure is," I agreed, kissing his lips sweetly before grimacing. "Your blood is on my lips," I wrinkled my nose, watching him laugh again.

   "Oh yeah, hold on," he said, reaching for the wet cloth that was next to me before bringing it up to my lips. He dabbed away at the smeared blood on my bottom lip, clearing it up before he handed the cloth to me.

   "Your lip is bleeding again," I fussed, clearing the blood up again. "Okay now it's stopped!"

   "Yay," he cheered fakely, before he pulled his boxers down all of a sudden.

   "Harry!" I gasped, my eyes widening significantly.

   "Could you leave please? I really really really need to pee!" he whined, chasing me out of the bathroom with his cock swinging about and boxers pooled around his ankles. The sight made me double over with laughter, even though I was locked out of the bathroom.

  I decided to head back to bed, snuggling under the covers, trying to find a comfortable position. After a couple of minutes, I heard the bathroom door open and close shut, before feeling some shuffling on the bed. A low groan escaped Harry when he jumped onto the bed, totally forgetting about the fact that he has a broken rib.

   "Careful Harry," I scolded lightly, watching him move slower to get himself comfortable. Once he was settled he looked towards me, a pout growing on his lips.

   "Why are you so far away?" he whined, making me giggle quietly before shuffling towards him a little.

  Luckily I was on the other side of his body where his ribs were totally fine, so I was able to cuddle into his side without causing him any pain. Soft lips were pressed against my forehead lovingly, his fingers playing with my long locks as I sighed deeply, trying to fall asleep.

   "Can I tell you something?" Harry spoke up after a few minutes.

   "Of course," I murmured with a smile, my eyes searching for his as he intertwined our fingers.

   "I never really told you the reason why I joined The Organization," he muttered quietly, feeling a little shy all of a sudden as he averted his gaze.

   "Tell me," I spoke, running my fingertips over the tattoos on his chest, the action calming him down a little as he breathed out heavily.

   "I think you know I was forced into this," he started, making me nod in response. "Anyways, before I was born, my mum and dad had a really horrible relationship. He was always so abusive and cruel to her. He was also an alcoholic; it was disgusting. He'd come home late every night from the pub, abuse my mother and ra-"

  Harry paused, too caught up with his emotions. He exhaled harshly, his eyes screwing shut as all his painful memories his him like a truck. My head immediately moved for my lips to press a kiss onto the skin of his bare shoulder, my palm smoothening down his torso in a soothing way. I told him gently that he didn't have to tell me if he was too uncomfortable, but he shook his head, saying that he wanted to tell me anyways. He spoke up again in a minute.

   "He raped her too," he uttered weakly, pain and sadness showing through his pale jade orbs. My heart ached at his words, my eyebrows up high when he spoke them. He continued. "There were other horrific things he did too."

   "Apparently I had a sister. Her name was Gemma, and she was three years older than me. Thank god my father never touched her; mom wouldn't let him. He always wanted to hold her and carry her, but my mother would forbid it, and because of that he became worse. The beatings increased, but my mother said she'd take it all just for Gemma. My parents were always broke, they barely had enough money to feed themselves. So when Gemma was born, my father kind of pulled himself together and got a job."

    "At The Organization," I muttered, and he nodded.

    "How he got it isn't important. But yeah, money started flowing in, things got a bit better financially, but there were still fights. When Gemma was about two, my parents had a huge argument; it was intense. He got so angry he left immediately, and once he got into the car he started pulling out of the driveway. But what he didn't know was that Gemma was playing in the driveway-"

   Harry stopped talking again, swallowing thickly as a harsh frown took over his sad expression. I was speechless from hearing all of this; I could tell what had happened when his father pulled his car out of the driveway. Poor Gemma was killed. My face had a sympathetic expression on, my hand moving to cup his cheek gently, turning his face to meet my gaze. He looked numb, his face was blank now, and it made a horrible feeling settle into the pit of my stomach.

   "I'm so sorry," I whispered, stroking his cheek with my thumb as he simply nodded in acceptance. He took a deep breath before continuing.

   "So yeah, Gemma died, and mom was devastated. She was depressed for weeks; my father was upset too. But once mom got over her depression, she got angry. It was as if Gemma's death caused her to snap, changed her completely. She kicked my father out of the house, moved away to a nicer area of England and got a job. She lived on her own for a few years, but then my dad came back. He had changed completely, it surprised my mom greatly and he wanted her to give him a second chance. I don't know how someone could forgive and accept a person like my father, but she just did."

   "They had a good relationship, but later on she found out he was still working for The Organization. She hated it. She was always terrified people would look for them because of my father's infamousness. Anyways, she dumped him; her constant paranoia that he would go back to being an alcoholic pushed her to do so. He thought she was kicking him out because she had met someone else, it wasn't true but he thought it. So he left, but he claimed that he would be back again one day and shit was going to happen."

   "Mom was still paranoid. But he never returned for a few months. But after those few months, she realized she was pregnant, with me. She promised herself that she would never let anything happen to me, she would never let what happened to Gemma, happen to me. However, the day she came back from the hospital with me in her arms, my father was at our house. He had other men there; she was completely surrounded. They fucking took me from her, Scarlett! Ripped me away from her arms!" he exclaimed all of a sudden, before wincing.

  There were a few tears in my eyes, and it was the same with Harry. He looked away immediately, his hands forming knuckles as he rubbed his teary eyes clear. Fingers wrapped around his wrists, I gently pulled his hands down, my eyes locking with his tearful ones. It pained me to see him like this, so vulnerable and weak. I knew he hated it that I was experiencing him crying.

   "It's okay to cry, Harry," I whispered gently to him, cradling his cheek dearly.

  He broke down. My heart immediately shattered at the sound of his noisy sobs filling the desolate silence. Holding him to me, I gently ran my fingers through his curls, whispering soothing words into his ear as he cried his heart out. He was there for me when I cried over my father's death, now I was here for him while he cried over his dreadful past. His crying didn't last long, which was good because the ferocity of his body-racking sobs caused him physical pain.

  He pulled his head up from my neck, pearl-shaped tears rolling down his mottled cheeks from his wide luminous eyes. My hands cradled his face was I kissed his forehead, his eyes fluttering close and a sigh leaving his lips at the action. I started raining kisses all over his face, kissing away his tears filled with pain and emotion. I understood. I understood why he was the person he was, before he changed. It was all because of his upbringing. 

   "God Harry," I sighed gently, my thumb stroking his cheek. "I'm so sorry," I said sympathetically, making him nod slightly in acceptance. "You didn't deserve any of that.

   "I know," he sniffed. "But I'm afraid that's just how the world works," he told me, making me quietly agree with his words.

  He continued telling me about what life was like in The Organization when he was a kid. Apparently his father knew nothing of how to take care of a baby, so the only person who actually offered to help him out was my father, Russell. Harry was apparently a very whiny crybaby who was always hungry and needed constant diaper changing.

   "Since I was such a nuisance to my own father, Ford suggested for Russell to raise and take care of me permanently. My father got so mad, and he tried to protest but he was also really scared of Ford at the time so he obeyed him," Harry told me, as he played with the strands of my hair, twirling the dark locks around his ring-cladded fingers.

  He continued telling me about how Russell had practically raised him as his own son. I was somewhat confused with how Harry still turned out to be such an insolent asshole, after my own father had raised him. I turned out decent, why didn't he? But then Harry explained to me how Russell had apparently lied to him that he wasn't Harry's biological father and that his father had died a while ago. Harry was a kid back then and he changed after that, once he had found out that he was taken away from his mother too he changed permanently. 

   "I think that's enough story-telling for tonight," he sighed heavily, wriggling out of my hold and moving back to his previous position on the bed. I suddenly remembered how Harry had told me he had killed his father the first night I slept here, I wondered if that was actually true and I wanted to ask him about it just then. But as he said, I think that was enough story-telling for the night.

  We laid there in silence for a few minutes before I spoke up.

   "Harry?"

   "Yeah."

   "You're not mad at yourself because you've cried, right?"

   He stayed silent for a few seconds before answering. "No." He lied.

   "Harry," I sighed, turning onto my side to face him.

   "What?" he bit back harshly all of a sudden, making me widen my eyes in surprise. Yep he was definitely mad at himself.

   "It's okay to cry," I told him, repeating my words from earlier. I touched his shoulder gently, shuffling closer to him until my body was inches away from his.

   "No it's fucking not. I haven't cried ever since I was a child," he grunted, a deep scowl forming on his features. "Just leave it alone, Scarlett. I really don't want to talk about this," he spoke in a stony tone, making me bite my lip in hurt.

  He couldn't really turn away from me as he was instructed by Sullivan to sleep on his back so he wouldn't ruin the healing process of his broken ribs. He shut his eyes, his dark eyebrows still tightly knitted over his closed eyes. But he was still awake. I could tell. I moved closer to him, pressing my lips against his bare shoulder before leaning my forehead against it. I intertwined our fingers together, inwardly sighing with relief when he didn't pull away but tightened his hold on my hand. That small action itself was reassuring enough.

  Both of us couldn't sleep for some reason. I was strangely enough, in a singing mood. I knew Harry never minded whenever I sang; in fact he loved it and encouraged me to do so. So, I silently laid there, listening to Harry's erratic breathing as I racked my brains for a good song to sing to correspond with our previous words. Suddenly it struck me. Without thinking I started singing, it was a song by Ed Sheeran called Even My Dad Does Sometimes. It was such an emotional song and it related to me on so many different levels.

It's alright to cry

Even my dad does sometimes

  I sang softly and cautiously, watching his face as I did. But he didn't open his eyes, however I knew he was listening.

So don't wipe your eyes

Tears remind you you're alive

  I continued.

So live life like you're giving up

'Cause you act like you are

Go ahead and just live it up

Go on and tear me apart

   "Scarlett?" His raspy voice halted my singing, making me slightly worried all of a sudden. What was his reaction going to be like?

   "Yeah?" I breathed in response, watching how he was now staring directly at me with a slight curve to his lips.

   "You have a beautiful voice," he told me honestly, his words making me blush and smile graciously.

   "Thank you Harry," I whispered, moving up to kiss his lips, which he happily accepted. "Are you still angry?" I asked him cautiously, once I had pulled away to gaze at him.

   "No," he exhaled.

   "Good," I breathed in relief, smiling a little. "Crying isn't something you should be ashamed of, even the toughest people have to cry sometimes," I rambled making him nod vigorously, pecking my lips to shut me up.

   "I know I know, it's just so unlike me. But I guess I'm glad it's you I cried in front of, I would absolutely hate it if it was someone else," he wrinkled his nose, while I blushed lightly, happy that I was the only one he'd want to allow himself to be vulnerable around.

  I responded with a light kiss to his cheek, cuddling into to his good side now that he was feeling calmer. His cushiony lips pressed against my forehead in response, his arm tightening around my shoulders as I draped my arm over his waist carefully.

   "Harry," I whispered once again, one single thought bothering me enough to speak up again.

   "Yeah," he murmured back.

   "Being vulnerable with me isn't a bad thing," I told him gently, feeling tense slightly under my hold, as if I had just read his thoughts.

   "Scarlett," he sighed heavily. "I-I just don't know if I- ugh I just- I just don't know anymore," he spoke wearily, his words confusing me slightly. Maybe he just didn't know if he could trust everything he was feeling and what was happening between us?

   "What are you so afraid of?" I tilted my head to look up at him, my cheek resting on the pillow now.

   "A lot of things, surprisingly," he answered quietly. "I'm afraid of losing you. It could be by a bullet to the heart, or just by me fucking everything up; either way if I ever lose you I-" he sighed harshly, his eyes screwing shut as if the thought physically hurt him.

   "Harry," I said quickly, my hand coming up to cup his cheek. "We're assassins, both of us are at risk of getting killed; that's just something we have to live it. But the thing about you messing up everything we have, I would never leave you for that," I told him seriously, my dark eyes holding his pale ones in a firm gaze.

   "You won't?" he barely whispered.

   "No, I won't. Harry I-" I stopped momentarily when I realized what I was going to say, my eyes noticing how Harry's expression had changed significantly when I halted my words.

   "You what?" Harry asked instantly, making me bite my lip before shaking my head. I almost told him.

   "Nothing. The point is we're all not perfect. We all mess up. We're imperfectly perfect. I could mess things up, would you leave me for that?"

   "No," he replied immediately. "I would never. I've grown attached to you," he admitted shyly, averting his gaze. "That's why I'm afraid of what will happen to me if you were to leave me," he told me in an anxious tone.

   "I don't know how many times do I have to reassure you, but just know deep down Harry, I care for you immensely and I don't know what I would ever do if I didn't have my curly-haired boogey-colored-eyed sweetheart right by me-"

   "Boogey colored!" he exclaimed loudly, his surprised tone making me laugh out loud. "Well, your eyes are the color of horse shit," he commented playfully, making me scowl.

   "Yeah so is your hair," I smirked, making him scowl this time.

   "You're forgetting your hair matches your beautiful horse shit-colored eyes," he giggled as I pouted my lips.

   "Shut up you frog," I grumbled, making him giggle even more, his lips stretching across to reveal his charming heart-fluttering smile.

   "Make me, Kitten."

   "Do I look like a fucking cat to you?"

   "Well do I look like a frog to you?"

   "Yeah you've got a face that resembles a very grumpy looking frog."

   "Yeah okay shut the fuck up, Scar," he rolled his eyes at me. "And I'm talking about Scar from The Lion King."

   "How dare you compare me to that monster!" I gasped, making him smirk, holding back his laughter. "He killed Mufasa!"

   "I know, how heartless of him! Kind of like you," he snickered, making me scrunch my nose up at him before turning onto my side. "Scarlett," he whined as I shuffled further to the other side of the bed.

  I merely grunted in reply, pulling the blanket over myself as I lay on my side now, facing the window rather than him. He kept murmuring and mumbling my name to get me to move back but I ignored him, biting my bottom lip to conceal my laughs at his adorable whiny self. It was around two in the morning now and I really needed to sleep. All this talking had worn me out and I could feel my eyelids getting heavier and heavier by the second.

  Before I could completely fall asleep, I heard some shuffling behind me before I felt the side of Harry's warm body pressed against my back. His arm came under me, wounding it around my midriff before pulling me back against him. I smiled lazily at the cute action, my eyes fluttering close along with a tired sigh leaving my lips.

   "Goodnight, my love," Harry whispered into the darkness.

   "Night baby," I yawned back, before I was out cold.

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-damn that was long. oh well, i need to make my chapters slightly longer because I'm gonna end up with like 80+ chapters if I don't sort everything out lmao.

-what do you guys think of Harry's past? Do you think it justifies the person he is now (asshole Harry)?

-I hoped that a/n with the sequel info was helpful to you guys. you should keep in mind that since there is a sequel, and it ends with Harlett living happily ever afte; because the ending of this book will probs make you forget that lol 🙃

Until we meet again...

~T