Dust Bones [Harry Styles]

049

sorry for the wait. i have been dealing with school, sports, and personal issues. but tonight i'll try to update everything as though i feel more at peace with myself when i write.

as a recap, Harry has been sent off with Niall, Jinx, and Devon to Paris (a 13 hour drive from Italy, where they reside) and their plan is to take over an under-the-table bank.

hope everyone's doing much better than i am. much love,

- zeffervescent

A boisterous storm broke out around us. It kind of worsened my mood. I was anxious already, and with the mere thought of an accident with water and slipping roads deteriorates the conditions of any over thinker.

I was sent to my bedroom a few hours later because my interest was interfering with my sleep. Inside that bedroom, all I could think about was Harry and his touch and his scent. And how damned I'd be if it were to disappear.

Eventually I fell asleep. Quite suddenly, though, I wake up to silence. The peaceful tinge made me nauseous. I got up and pushed my body off the mattress, sighing heavily. The bad taste in my mouth induced my need to brush my teeth.

Leaving the bathroom, I started down the quiet halls. Downstairs, the men were still glued to screens, surprisingly holding themselves up despite the early hours they woke up.

"Miss, I thought we said you should sleep?" Marco says behind me as I stand in the middle of the set up.

I glance around me, wrapping my arms around myself. "I did. What time is it?" I ask, my voice on the more hoarse side.

My tired eyes glance around me, feeling a tinge of relief that no one is remotely close to looking alarmed. Marco states, "It's ten twenty in the morning. You've slept for four hours."

"Four hours is enough." I reply with a sigh, eyes glued to the monitors. I briefly glance at the guy that is in charge of Harry's mic. He seems casual and relaxed. Good.

A minute of silence progresses until I hear, "You seem to really care about Harry."

In the moment, I snap my eyes towards him and quickly say, "He took care of me. I'm grateful."

"I suppose. He did do a very brave thing," he comments casually, then adds, "Look, Miss Gates, I am no idiot. I know where there's love and where there's not. Gratitude and love are two very distinct things."

"Love?" I sputter out, stunned, as if it were not already established between Harry and I. "Never was there love between us."

But he doesn't fall for it. Marco looks at me. His green eyes were much vibrant than Harry's in a way that expressed a more sympathetic, cheerful man. At the same time, his held a strong rejection towards pain.

"Yes. There was not, but there is now. You don't have to hide anything from me," he says almost in a whisper, the conversation strictly between us two. "I get that feeling from you two. It's very obvious, but everyone else in here is immune to anything nowadays. Their eyes are on the money."

My eyebrows raise and I wonder if I should say anything in return. Reject the idea or admit it. I stick to silencing myself, because I tend to screw up nearly everything. I look away from Marco, jaw clenched in half rejection and half 'you caught me'.

"I am convinced. I don't think it's any good, but at the same time I think it's all the good here."

He nods at me and walks away. I look in his direction for a moment, deep in thought. I didn't know whether to be alarmed that he suspects or be relieved that at least someone else knows. But by his words, I'm convinced I don't have a choice but to accept it.