oh, mr president | H.S.

NINETEEN: Filed for Corruption

"Conscience is the authentic voice of God to you." - Rutherford B. Hayes

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N I N E T E E N : Filed for Corruption

"I know things that will damage his reputation, and break hearts, Ophelia. Not just yours either."

        Her hands circled around the coffee mug she held, feeling the heat settle. She couldn't stop staring into space, her mother's words beating at her will. After Valerie left the charity event, Ophelia repeated the sentence until she memorized the exact patterning of her breathing when she delivered it. She was distant from the event, and her skin crawled with fear. The only times she managed to crack a smile from her stone cold exterior is when she had a glimpse of Harry playing with the children like a father would. A part of her pictured him with a child of his own, but the thought vanished when her mother's words stabbed into her stomach violently.

        As she sat in her office the morning after, she was anxious to know exactly what her mother meant.  She wanted to call her father and ask him what he knew. Harry butchered that choice; he told her that her father would only become defensive, and insist on the reason why she was so curious. Ophelia knew he was right about her father, but she still wanted to hear him decline, whatever the claim was.

        She rose the coffee mug to her lips, slipping away at the liquid that coated her throat with radiance. Ophelia had focused most of her evening to dissecting the statement, and completely forgot about the speech Liam instructed (or demanded) her to write. Harry was to deliver a speech for an up and coming senator from Massachusetts, Charles Randolph, at the political dinner they are having. Apparently, Harry and Charles went to university together and were roommates.

        A slight knock disturbed Ophelia. She flinched his muscles to the sound, then leaned forward. "Come on," She murmured to the party behind the door.

        Harry revealed himself in a light grey suit that is tightened to his figure. The material was fitted as he shook his jacket from his shoulders. He noticed Ophelia and how distracted she was from the environment around her. He pulled himself from his work, and decided to check on her.

        "Baby girl," Harry breathed as his dress shoes pattered across the carpet to a quiet woman. "Are you alright?"

        "I-I'm not sure." She rose from her office chair, allowing him to sit first. Once he plopped into the cushion, she snuggled between his broad legs for his arms to wrap around her torso. "What do you think she meant by that?"

        "Maybe, she could just be talking about something simple? You can't let this eat at you, Ophelia," Harry advised, seeing her shuffle.

        "You're right. She wants to meet me for lunch. Would you like to go with me?"

       Her chin leaned back to view the man's expressions upside down, seeing his mouth spread to a chuckle at her position. "I have a military briefing, and I have to meet with Charles Randolph about the dinner for tomorrow night."

        "So basically, that's a no." Instead of getting upset at him for avoiding the question, she inhaled his scent instead. He smelt fresh, like he just got out of the shower and decided to squeeze her tight into a hug. Her eyes closed, relaxing into his soothing hold. Her back felt his heartbeat pound, but at a slow pace, and his chest raise and fall as his nose fanned air against the top of her head.