The Short Stories of Harry Styles

Neverwood: Part 5

The aged clock that hung on the stone wall overhead mocked you with its incessant ticking. You thought of knocking it down a peg or two by plucking its hands from its face and then ripping them to shreds in front of it so that it could never remind you of how long you'd been here ever again...but those would be the actions of a mad woman...and you refused to be mad.

No, instead you sat there, ladle in hand as you stirred the stew every ten minutes or so to ensure it was cooking thoroughly before serving it to him.

Yep...you were still here...here being the Land of Faerie.

Your first day here had been, well, exactly how you'd expected.

After marching you through the meadows and holding your breath whenever he damned well pleased, your settling into life here had been as gruesome as it was overwhelming.

Harry's home was a modest one and you had suspected that no one as beautiful as he would be living in something so...ugly, but with time and further inspection you began to realize that things as they were now...were not how they had always been. Hints of the estates former glamour shown through in the elegant paintings that adorned the walls and intricate carvings in the stones. You could imagine a very different home altogether if you really focused hard enough on those small details but Harry would yell at you for gawking and to get back to work and all the ugliness of this place made sense.

It matched who he was on the inside.

Speaking of, his ugliness had made a wonderful appearance that first night in the form of dinner.

He'd yelled for you from your chambers and you'd sulked the whole way down and plopped unceremoniously into the chair at the opposite end of the long rickety table and stared down the length of it at the gorgeous faerie who had summoned you.

He'd had his hands folded underneath his chin, his elbows resting daintily against the table, and there had been a wild and knowing shine to his eyes that unnerved you but, you sat still and didn't waver in your stare down. He'd smiled that cruel smirk of his and then sat back, arms resting on either armrest.

"It seems it is time for feasting little lioness, and yet...we have no meal before us." You'd rolled your eyes and shrugged, not catching the hidden meaning behind his words but you weren't entirely stupid either.

"Look...the offer for my pinky finger has come and gone. I have decided I'd like to keep all my limbs, thanks." You chastised and that dark brow of his lifted ever so slightly at your tone.

"No, a pinky finger won't do...I am dreadfully famished."

"Not my problem." You replied short and direct and then he leaned forward again, lacing those fingers together to sit just below his nose, covering his delicious mouth, his long hair falling around his face.

"Go...fetch us food." He ordered and you just sat there stunned.

He did not truly expect you to go out there and hunt down a fucking squirrel.

"Um...got any money for some McDonald's?" You asked jokingly but that gleam was still there in his eyes and you knew that he was not in the mood for joking...at least...not your kind of joking.

"A lioness knows how to hunt...so don't be a mouse and bring us back some dinner," you slowly rose from the table and wandered aimlessly to the door, stressed at how on Earth you were supposed to pull this off when he spoke again, "Oh and do be quick about it mortal...I might take that pinky of yours whether you're offering or not."

With a rigid back you'd fled the confines of that blasted hellhole and rummaged through bush and tree for any sign of life when you'd finally happened upon a stream. It'd taken you a bit but you'd managed to catch two trout with your bare hands and you had been so fucking impressed with yourself that you'd practically skipped in the moonlight back to his humble abode.