Never - A Haylor Fanfic [discontinued]

Chapter 19 - Mi casa es tu casa

Not sure how to feel, I stuff a pair of fuzzy Christmas socks, despite it being September, into the already bulging bag sitting on my bed. I pick it up and heave it over my shoulder before scratching Meredith behind the ear as a goodbye and crossing the street.

After the trauma of the previous night, Harry took me by surprise and offered to let me stay at his place tonight. He made it clear that it was strictly because security will be at my house all night, but it's still the nicest thing he's done for me yet.

I cross the street speedily, hopping up Harry's porch steps with an excited feeling fluttering in my heart. Before I can knock, however, the door swings open, leaving me standing before Harry with my mouth open slightly in a grin and my hand raised in a fist.

Harry looks me up and down, before exhaling loudly and turning around to lead me into his extravagant living room. My eyes scan the spacious house surrounding me once again, the feeling of astonishment still present from when I first laid eyes on it.

"We'll have dinner in a half hour. All rooms other than the bathroom-"

He points to a glossy white door behind me.

"-are obviously off limits, as I'm sure you remember."

I struggle to take in the rapid words he's firing at me, but I think I get the gist of it, smiling as sweetly as I can at him. But it appears he's not finished.

"Oh, and you'll sleep on the couch."

I look up at him, seeing a bored look in his eyes as he gestures towards one of the plush, white couches behind us. Although I find the fact that he's making me sleep on a couch when it's rather clear that he has many other rooms I could stay in, I still try to be polite.

"Oh, ok. Uh, thank you."

"Well, you don't have to sound so ungrateful."

He spits back at me. I stumble slightly, trying to fix my apparent mistake.

"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to be ungrateful-"

"-well it sure as hell sounded like it."

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be- I am really thankful that you're letting me stay here."

I try to defend myself, but all I receive is a rude scoff in return.

"Yeah, right. Stay here until the maid calls for dinner and try to be less of a princess when I get back...?"

My mouth falls open as he turns and storms away from me, not looking back once as the front door slams behind him. Instantly, my eyes start to sting with tears, and I gulp desperately in an attempt to tame the constricting of my throat.

I can't believe I actually thought I'd grown accustomed to Harry's hurtful words, and that it wouldn't hurt as much when he insulted and undermined me anymore. Well, now I release how incredibly stupid that was of me to think.

The truth finally connects in my brain, and I can't believe how oblivious I was before. I can't take any sort of criticism. I've honestly never had to. I really am a typical, spoilt princess who's always had her rich daddy there to shelter her from the world and her mum's shoulder to cry on whenever someone says something mean. God, I even used my father's money to get out of that petty little world and move to New York, hoping to actually make a living for myself, yet I'm still the little girl who depends on everything and everyone else to get by in life.

I don't realize the minutes ticking by until it's been well over half an hour, and Harry waltzes in the door. His face holds it's usual blank expression as he locks the door behind him, but that's only until he notices me. His eyes widen, and I feel confused at first, until I lift my hand to my cheek and find it's sodden with tears.

Bolting up onto my feet, I dive out of the room and slam the bathroom door behind me, remembering Harry's words about not liking to see me cry, and I really don't want to anger him anymore.

Without even taking the time to appreciate the elaborate design of the lavish bathroom, I collapse onto the edge of the tub and my hands find their way to my face for the thousandth time. Having realised long ago that holding back tears does more harm than good, I allow myself to cry into my palms, which I would've kept doing for the rest of the night if not for a gentle knock on the door a couple of minutes later.

"Miss Swift? It's time for dinner."

The kind voice of Harry's elderly housekeeper brings me back to my senses and I weakly rise to my feet, making the wise decision to splash my face with some cold water before emerging.

As per her instructions, I follow the plump woman down the regal hall, eventually stopping in front of a grand set of heavy wooden double doors. My heart beats ridiculously fast at the prospect of having to face Harry after everything that's happened tonight.

"The dining room's right through there. Make yourself comfortable."

She says before scurrying off into a nearby room, which I assume is the kitchen, judging by the heavenly aroma drifting out of it. Using all my might, I manage to heave open the doors, finding myself staring into Harry's dining room.