III
PERHAPS IT WAS THE WAY HE POURED ME TEA, that I clearly denied, or it was the way he gave me a disapproving look when I rejected, when I knew this wasn’t good. Or the fact he closed the door, but the presence of that Lawrence man, was still in me. I could feel myself being surrounded, not only being people but by emotions, tension and the thick air that lingered around us.
“You’re probably hungry.”
I raised an eyebrow and gave a challenging look towards Harry.
“Where are we?” I asked, as I scooted up the sofa to get closer to him. He sat across me, his elbows on his knees, leaning in with curious eyes.
We were sat in a room with big windows to the left that had an overview of the whole warehouse, meaning Harry saw me run away from the moment I hit the icy cold, metal stairs. He saw me struggle yet he did nothing.
The room was modern. It had leather sofas, large paintings, abstract art work, a laptop on the dark wood desk. It resembled slightly to Harry's flat in Holland Park, however this one felt less used, more of a quick decoration job to give this room more meaning. Harry was always a spectator of abstract art and really appreciated it in every aspect, that was no secret to me.
“Harry, I need an answer now. This isn’t funny,” I sneered, shaking my head. Harry stayed silent, sighing before standing up, walking behind the armchair.
“I wanted to tell you for a while,” he quietly spoke. I’ve never heard him this quiet ever. From where I was, I watched him view the warehouse from the window.
“And I was going to,” he mumbled, his arms clasped behind his back. “But I couldn’t wait forever.”
“Tell me what?” I responded, standing up. “Harry, you need to tell me what’s going on.”
His jaw flexed, whether it was the fact I stood up or because he was nervous, was a mystery to me. He suddenly became a mystery to me.
“You are different, Ivy. You actually mean something to me, and the thought of you falling between my fingers, kills me. You aren’t like the other girls.”
My heart fluttered, but I pushed down any feelings. “Cut the bullshit Harry.”
“There is no ‘right’ way for me to do this, Ivs,” he lowly spoke, turning to me so our eyes were locked. “I’ve been doing this for years, and kept it away from you.”
“Kept what?” I mumbled, my mouth suddenly dry.
He now completely turned around so he faced me. “I’ve been running The Wolves for four years now."
“The W-wolves?”
“I run West London.”
We both looked at each other for a few seconds. He was silent, so I was silent, however my mind was screaming. From staring at his pale green eyes, I could tell he was searching my brown ones for an answer, for a reaction. But I returned him dull, brown eyes.
“What does that even mean?” I spat, my hands found in my hair quickly. “You run a company? You don't work at an internship firm? You work in the parliament?”
Harry walked over, and I mirrored his actions, walking back. “It’s complicated.”
“Fuck you,” I cursed at him, and his eyebrow raised. He absolutely hated it when I swore. “Don’t do this. Don’t kidnap me, lock me in an ice-cold room for the night, tell me you do illegal activity and then when I ask you more, say ‘it’s complicated’! Don’t you dare, Harry!”
He sighed, his index finger and thumb pinching his forehead skin lightly. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
I snickered darkly, arms crossed. “Trust me, Harry Styles. You already did.”
His green eyes, always clear, never mysterious, turned obscure. “There’s so much more to come baby.”
It stayed silent, his dark words that danced aggressively in my mind gave me a look of skepticism. This wasn’t the Harry I met in the art exhibition.
“You don’t have the right to call me that anymore,” I spoke quietly, a tear letting go and falling on the floor. “I want to go home, Harry. Let me go home.”
“Not until you submit.”
“Bloody hell, Harry! I don’t want to submit to any of this!” I cried out, shaking my head in disapproval. “This is ludicrous. I’m not fit for your world, Harry.”
His face softened as he walked over. His hand came up to my face, without interruption he stroked the side of my face soothing me instantly. “Anyone can fit in, as long as you’re next to me.”
I stayed quiet, and let him explain himself.
“Being the leader of The Wolves gives me power and succession, Ivy. With that I can help you find yourself. Take you to places; let you enjoy life for the first time. From the moment I met you, I knew you were losing it and it would be game over for you soon. You're worth so much more than you project yourself to be. Let me help you out, Ivy, let me take care of you.
We can reign this city together.”
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Grey Area (Harry Styles)
Fanfiction“There was right and wrong, and then there was him; in the grey area." (Cover made by @Marlboros)
