Detached [h.s au]

Chapter 22: Confession

a/n: Read the author's note at the end, please! xx

Elizabeth's POV

"Well, that was some déjà vu, huh?" Harry speaks after what it seems to be hours. We still haven't reached the city border and I'm starting to think he's not driving us back.

"Where are we going?" I ask as I glance out of the window. I grew up in this city yet I don't really recognise this part of it.

"You'll see," he says. "As to that scene from earlier...I told you so. I told you you'll end up disappointed."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"No, but maybe next time the smartest thing to do would be for you to listen to me," he replies.

"I don't take orders, Harry."

"That's not what I meant." He rolls his eyes. "I meant that you should stop being so stubborn and try to take my advice in the future."

I remain silent, unsure of what to say. He's right, I am stubborn, but if I gave in every time someone told me I'm wrong about something or that I shouldn't do something, I wouldn't be what I am today. No one is born strong or fearless, you have to fight and face your fears which in my case was fear of being rejected for having a different opinion. I'm still not completely over it since I still get judged for my beliefs.

"By the way, thank you," he says. "For defending me in front of your father today. That wasn't easy, I'm sure."

"It wasn't, but he was wrong about you. You have to know the person before you can judge them."

"You're right," he glances at me. "I kind of misjudged you before, when we met. I never thought you had it in you – the strength to stand up to that piece of shit Gerald and now your father."

"Yeah, same," I admit. "It mostly comes from the fact I'm impulsive. I regret some of my actions, but it's too late now."

"We're here," Harry says while stopping the car next to the sidewalk, turning off the engine.

He steps out of the car before I get the chance to ask him anything so I do the same. I circle around it and walk over to him. "Where are we?" I ask as I gaze at a luxurious house peeking from behind a metal fence.

"We'll stay here tonight," he says. "I don't want to go through that tedious procedure on the border twice in one day."

He grabs the knob on the metal fence and twists it, its hinges creating a squeaking sound. We slowly start making our way over the concrete path leading toward the entrance, my eyes taking in lines of trees and red rose bushes on the sides before we reach the house door. I watch as he takes out a set of keys from his pocket and unlocks the door, pushing it open.

"I used to live here," he finally says, motioning for me to follow him inside. "We moved to the capital a couple of years ago after my father had decided his position is more important than his family." His words hold so much resentment, even hatred. He flips the light switch on, illuminating the living room. The room is cold, its walls plain and empty, the floor polished and shiny. There is one thing that catches my attention.

I walk over to the fireplace, taking a photograph placed on it in my hand, examining it. It's the photo of Harry and his family, but Harry and Gemma appear to be younger. Harry approaches me and snatches it from my hands.

"You look very cute here," I smile at his scruffy curls and pouty face. "Your hair looks...nice."

He cringes, placing it back up, but with its front facing down. "I was fourteen. It's the last photo we took as a family before everything changed..." he trails off, his eyebrows pulling in a frown.