asset [h.s.]

twenty nine // mr styles

Alicia

The next morning, after Harry and I have eaten a healthy breakfast of oatmeal and fruit, which he practically forces me to eat instead of the bowl of coco pops I would have preferred, he orders me to follow him out of the kitchen, telling me he wants to show me something. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion as he leads me through the empty halls of the house, wondering where on earth he's taking me. He stops at the end of the hall and pulls open a door which I didn't even know was there, leaving it open for me to follow him down a staircase leading to what must be a basement.

Due to the darkness, I bump into Harry's back when I finally reach the bottom of the stairs, letting out a small huff. He raises his arm and I hear the sound of a small click before lights that are scattered across the ceiling illuminate the room, revealing everything that the darkness was hiding. It takes no time for my eyes to adjust and take in all the machines and equipment spread out in front of us, as well as the huge wall length mirror displaying both mine and Harry's reflections.

"This place has a gym?" I ask in confusion as Harry moves away from me to take a look at the different equipment, walking over to the rack of weights and easily lifting one up.

"Yeah, that's why I picked this house," Harry says, setting the weight back down and turning to face me again. "I didn't know how long we'd have to stay here, so I thought I could use it. But then I thought that you could use it too."

"Me?" I ask curiously, arching one eyebrow as my eyes scan the room. I can't even remember the last time I was actually in a gym. "Why do I need to use it?"

"Because you could do with a bit of...." Harry trails off, clearly searching for the right words to say as he looks me up and down, the edges of his lips arching into a small smirk. "Toughening up."

I can't help but feel slightly offended by that comment. Of course, I know that I'm not some badass, fearless, killing machine that he seems to be, but I think I've managed to survive everything that's happened to me so far pretty well. Haven't I been the one who was kidnapped, held hostage, almost killed multiple times, and now is constantly shipped off to different parts of the world in order to not end up with a bullet in my head? Although a lot of this has very nearly broken me, I'm still here, stood on my own two feet and very much alive. I think I deserve some credit for that.

"I can be tough sometimes," I remind him, folding my arms across my chest as I jut my chin out slightly.

"Well yeah, mentally and emotionally, I guess....." Harry shrugs and I narrow my eyes at his words.

He guesses? Need I remind him that while I'm here talking to him, I have no idea where my dad is, or if he's dead or alive. I have no idea where any of my friends are or if they're even looking for me. I wonder if he's saying all of this to wind me up, because its working.

"Just not physically," Harry finishes by saying.

"Really? I reckon I could kick your ass if you keep trying to wind me up."

Harry lets out a laugh, clearly amused by my suggestion. "I'd like to see you try, princess."

I can't help but frown at him using that pet name in the old, patronising type of way just like he used to. It seems to anger me a lot more than it should and I find myself clenching my fists by my sides, memories of him saying that to me flashing through my mind as anger begins to rise in my body.