Complicity [h.s]

37

PART 1 OF DOUBLE UPDATE

Aven Brooks

It's been two days since I ran out on Harry.

The last two days have been consumed by excessive drinking and an overwhelming schedule. Moving forward is my top priority, and the more he remains absent, the less I am induced by the chaos he dragged back into my life. I have neither the time nor the mental capacity to dwell on it. My life is already complicated enough without having to dig up the past.

"Hey," Zayn's voice blinks me back to reality.

Before me lies the sole light in this room—a blazing fire. Sitting on the oak floor, I remain curled up, with my knees pressed tightly against my chest. I turn my head up to see him standing with the end of his drink in his hand. Still in a black suit, his hair starts to lose its structure at this time of night.

"Go get rest, you've been here for nearly an hour." He glances at the fireplace.

I look back ahead at the flames, my chin resting on the tops of my knees. I grab the drink down by my side, take a sip, and place it back on the floor.

"You need to be up early tomorrow, we're hitting the road at dawn. Your father wants you in the Hamptons by nine." He reiterates everything we've already discussed.

"I'm aware."

"Then go to bed," he says sternly. "Or I'll carry you there myself."

I roll my eyes and look up at his serious gaze—downing the ends of my vodka and standing up to his request. As we face each other, I shove the crystal cup in his hand before walking away through the dimly lit living room.

"Goodnight, Ms. Mariana." A guard says as I pass.

"Night." I nod back.

I stroll through the expansive estate, reaching the stairs that seem to ascend endlessly. After a long climb, I finally make it to my wing and eventually arrive at my room. Pushing open the door, I'm met with a void of darkness that engulfs the space. The only sources of light leaks from the balcony doors and windows that accompanied them, casting a gentle glow over the room once my eyes adjust to it.

One of the doors is open, I feel a draft.

Seeing no one in sight, for now, I walk across the room. The breeze runs still the second I shut the balcony door. As I turn back around, I'm halted by the tall frame appearing in the centre of the room like a magic trick.

I don't flinch.

I remain unfazed and unsurprised as I suspected he would turn up eventually. He stands in the shadows, illuminated by the moonlight, wearing a black hoodie and ripped black jeans. I am always perplexed at how he consistently bypasses security. However, it is not surprising, considering he was taught by my father himself, who trained him in the art of breaking into banks and museums.

"I need to talk to you." He severs the silence from across the room, a slight demand in his voice.

I breathe.

"And to think you were actually going to leave me alone this time..." I shake my head, pacing past him and in the direction of my closet.

"Aven..." He says as I pass.

Through the small hallway, I enter my walk-in closet. It's dark but there's enough window light for me to perceive everything I need. I don't bother turning on a light. Towards my sleepwear, and I can sense he's following me.

"Do I look like him, is that it?"

My chest tightens, freezing with my back to him.

"You shouldn't be here." I make clear.