Door Twenty-Six: Lions Den

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THE PARTY WAS still a live wire, ongoing with photo booths, fresh desserts, and lots more alcohol. The crystal clear champagne bubbled down her throat as Indira gulped down her third glass, ignoring Harry and his watchful glare. Every guest seemed to be having a great time, requesting songs from the DJ and dancing around like they weren't some of the richest people in the world.

Indira tried so hard to be like them and have a good time, but Beverly being the wet blanket that she was, didn't allow her to do so. What made matters worse was the fact that she was messing with her mentally, not even physically. Harry could see Beverly was quick to use her poison tactics on someone who was clearly vulnerable and defenseless.

"Indira," he warned her, his stature looming over her as she drank yet another glass of the spritzy alcohol. It was only the fourth glass, but it only took until the fourth to feel a little looser than she was when she first arrived. She thought it could help her relax.

"What? I'm just stress eating...or drinking...whatever," she shooed her hand at him. Harry grabbed her wrist mid air and stared her down again. When she stubbornly stared him down, he lightly placed her hand by her side, then going back up to sweep a stand of hair that had fallen out of place behind her ear.

A waiter passed by with a silver tray balanced on the center of his palm, but this time it was a tray of an expensive brand of bottled water. Harry swiftly grabbed it and handed it to her. "Drink it," he said slowly, knowing his deep and raspy voice would urge her.

Indira took a deep breath after realizing that he too was starting to get a tad stressed, more so than relaxed. She twisted the cap open and quickly gulped heavy sips of the room temperature water. Harry didn't say anything as he led her out of the crowd with just a head nod. When they were surely secluded, Harry sighed and ran his hand through his—now shorter—hair. She wished he didn't have to cut it for tonight.

"Are you okay?" He asked her, leaning against the cream colored wall.

"Yeah, totally fine." She shrugged her shoulders and leaned against the wall too.

Harry stood straighter, but continued to lean his weight on the wall. She was lying and he totally knew it, watching her as she hid behind the bluff of her cracked knuckles. Her eyes were weary, unable to keep them on his, and her breathing had escalated just enough to make it noticeable.

"You don't have to lie to me," he stated.

"It's nothing, Harry. I-I think I'm just overreacting and had a little much to drink that's all. I'm fine," she smiled, trying to convince him as she put her hand on his arm.

"Indira..." Harry pushed himself off the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose, agitation clear in his movements. "What did she say to you? Honestly."

She sighed before she spoke, wondering if Harry was blowing this out of proportion, or if she was just to alcohol driven to see the big picture. Indira knew something was off about Beverly, and it was proven by their conversation in the garden, and most importantly by the way Harry tensed up every time she was brought into subject.

It was then that she remembered how he expressed to her that everyone (usually) repelled him when they ever came in contact with Beverly. She recalled how his face fell after he had revealed that to her. With the little information she had, it was blatant that Beverly was not a good person.

Indira drank more from the water bottle to collect her tipsy thoughts into a coherent sentence. "Well...after I ran into—" She cut herself short, not seeing the importance of details. "—Someone, she came up from right behind me pretending to help, then she said that you told her to come find me because you were going to be talking to some people. I don't know it all happened so fast. One minute she was talking, and the next she was grabbing my hand and rushing me over to the photographers. And then that's when you came in."

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