six

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(comments were telling me to update more often; well my answer is I will try to update as often as I can, it's just all the school stuff and everything is getting in my way, but I'll always find time to update because i love you guys a lot ahah ok please vote and share and eat cookies and bake cakes and do all those nice stuff lmao ily)

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Being in Harry's penthouse really felt different from the last time I was in here. It felt unwelcoming and unpleasant. Not like last time at all. There's not really a worse feeling than feeling unwanted.

I sit down on the couch and he goes to he kitchen counter to make something that I'm not sure of.

"What are you making?" I ask out of curiosity.

"Hot chocolate. How many marshmallows would you like?" He asks.

"I thought you didn't like chocolate?" I question.

"This is exceptional - do you want marshmallows?" He answers my question briefly and repeats the question.

"Um, is it the small ones or the big ones?"

"Small."

"Six please,"

When he got done, he handed me a mug and kept one to himself. I thank him and he sits next to me. Closer than expected, but I didn't mind at all.

"What's your favorite TV show?" He asks.

This took me a while. I think hard on it and he seemed to think about it too.

"Law and Order. Or CSI," I reluctantly answer. I had a lot more in mind but that would take too much time. I honestly watch a vast amount of TV series and it drives me crazy sometimes.

"That's odd. I watch the same thing." His eyes light up and mine does too. I've been waiting for someone to understand my addiction and he might just be the one who would.

"Best part was definitely the muscle weaknesses and stretch reflexes, even though I don't get half the crap, it looks so cool!"

"No definitely not. Best part was Calleigh firing at the gun range in season six. Always." He says and I raise my hands up in defeat. "Totally forgot about that part." I say and he does the shrugs. "How do you even forget." He shakes his head and laughs.

"Do you like to read?" He asks furthermore.

"I certainly do." I smile and he nods, returning it.

"Favorite book?"

"Hmmm..." I think for a while, mentally scrolling through the abundance of books that I've read.

"Any of the ones written by Jane Austen," I finalize my answer. "They're too good to pick." I say, sipping a slight taste from the mug that slowly turned cold.

"But," I say, but stop, sipping one more time. "My favorites, like, my ultimate, all-time book that I never get bored of; is Romeo and Juliet. However, the ending was hella disappointing,"

"Impressive, Swift. Old English nerd?" He comments and I smile sheepishly at him.

"O Romeo, O Romeo, where four art thou Romeo?" The common lines roll out of my mouth without mistake. "Deny thy father and refuse thy name, or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love. And I'll no longer be a Capulet." I say the lines that are engraved in my memory and he chuckles.

He sips the chocolate from his own mug before speaking. "Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"

"'Tis but they name that is not my enemy; thou art thyself, though not a Montague," I continue, but before I can say anymore, he grabs my arm and drags me to another room.

I see a bed, but that's not the point, the object that seems to catch my eye at a full glance is the bookshelf. The vast amount of books in it opens my mind to a whole new perspective of him.

Without hesitation, I walk towards the big bookshelf that undoubtedly was a lot higher than my height. I had to be on my tip toes to reach the top. I slide my fingers at the different novels that were all placed on that very shelf. I can feel Harry's stare even though our proximity is distant.

"Oh my gosh, this is amazing," I gasp, I take one of my favorite books from the shelf; Pride and Prejudice. I flip through the pages - only to see a page full of different colors which I interpret as highlights.

Before I can ask anything, he speaks up first. "I highlight my favorite parts." He answers and I mouth an "oh", nodding to his answer.

I put the book back on the shelf, not taking my hands off it, but they don't follow my commands and moves to other books. I then realize that almost all of his books have small thin pieces of paper sticking out from the top; bookmarks, they are on multiple pages, sometimes they're right next to each other. I look through the patterns of books which are mostly marked. I look through the mark ones and notice a specific pattern.

Detect

Crime Scene

Techniques for Detection and Exposure of Mysterious Information

Criminals: Muscle Pressures

The Arts of Aiming

"I never knew you were this interested in crime scenes and investigations," I ask him, looking back, not daring to move because he was now very close to me. I can almost feel the fabric of his shirt coming in contact with mine, I take a small step back, but he somehow manages to keep his eyes on me.

"Exactly. And that's what you learned from me today," His voice sounds and I can't help but notice the rasp of it; like chalk pressed hard against a board.

"What did I learn from you today?" I question, tilting my head to the side.

"You said you wanted to learn things about me, well you did. And certainly, I do have more." He smiles. "People don't let their secrets out easily, you see and you can't just expect for them to tell you everything, Taylor, and I know that there's a lot to learn about you too, but as you can see, I don't ask, I figure it out," His lips curve up, forming a smirk. "That's what you're doing." He continues, pointing at his bookshelf. "You figured one piece of me and when and if you somehow get closer to me, you'll figure out more and as will I, however, Taylor, let me tell you one thing," He says and moves closer to me so that his mouth is close to my ear, sending shivers.

"It's just the tip of the iceberg," He drops a whisper.

(disclaimer: story will start from right about here)

subside. // haylor auWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu