The Gentlemen's Club // h.s. au

== eight ==

[rowan's pov]

I sat silently at the small wooded table as Harry set up breakfast.. or lunch? It was so late in that day, that I lost track of time.

I tapped my fingers on the table, thinking about what I am doing with my life. Will I really let Harry control my life? Will I really let him "play" with me?

To be honest.. I don't know. I mean, look at all of the damage he's done already. I'm physically unstable to stand up to a guy like him.

Harry then asked something, but I didn't really catch it.

"Err.. excuse me?" I meekly asked. Harry heavily sighed before shaking his head in annoyance.

"Water? Or orange juice?" He said more slowly.

"Water, please." I replied. I should've said it more harshly. But of course that I had to be a nice and kind person.

He placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me. I looked at it as if was foreign to me. Because it looked absolutely delicous. He made this?

I began to poke the food with my fork, is this even real?

"I didn't poison it, you can eat it." Harry glared at me, but the corner of his lips were twitching, indicating that he was trying not to laugh. I sighed and ate just a little bit. It tasted.. normal?

I thought he was going to give me something burnt and rotten. But.. this tasted really good.

But I'd never admit that. Especially not to Harry.

"I'm glad you liked it, babe." Harry smirked. Oh..

"How did you know I liked it?" I asked, frowning.

"Your face said it all." He casually replied. I squinted my eyes at him.

"Why were you looking at my face?" I snapped.

"Because you're hot. And is it such a sin to look at your face?" Harry leaned closer into the table, smirking. He looked amused.

"Yes. Yes it is." I huffed.

We ate in silence after that. It was so. awkward? I lived alone for a while, so being by myself was comforting. But with another person around, things just got really awkward.

After we ate, I just, hung around Harry. I didn't know where to go. Should I go back to my grey room? The living room? Stay in the kitchen?

But after Harry sent me a harsh glare after following him around, I knew he didn't want me around him. So I headed back to the grey room.

I laid down on the bed, just thinking. I thought about my parents, I thought about Mrs. Morris, the Olivers, and my thoughts even trailed back to Harry.

I don't know what he wanted to do with me. He hasn't sexually harrased me, or raped me. I'm not really sure what he truly wanted with me.

While thinking about him, Harry himself walks in the room.

I freeze, what was he going to do tonight? I closed my eyes, pretending to sleep. I was panicking on the inside.

But he just adjusted my pillow and draped a warm duvet on me. He sighed before standing in the same spot for a couple of minutes.

He shuffled a bit, and I almost flinced at the closeness of his lips to my neck.

"I know you're awake."

And he left the room. I jolted up, breathing at an erratic pace.

That's when I noticed the duvet was red. In a blatant grey room, there was some red.

There was some colour in the bland, boring, grey room.