The Short Stories of Harry Styles

Neverwood: Part 6

Over the next several weeks you and the dark faerie have found yourselves falling into a routine.

Every morning you woke to pink and cream colored clouds, bees humming and birds chirping outside of your window, and the scent of peppermint tea wafting up from downstairs.

Not that he would have poured you a cup...no that would have been too kind.

He was up to his usual tricks and schemes but you oddly found yourself growing accustomed to them. Expecting him to magically pull your chair out from under you, his hissing at your cooking over your shoulder, his threats to gouge your eyes out if you even thought about rolling them at him again. It was all a part of the daily routine and you had to admit...

...it was almost better than being at home.

Almost.

Today, Harry was in a mood most foul. The worst sort. He'd woken up ranting and raving about how you did absolutely nothing around the house and that your cooking was "inedible shit."

"Fuck you!" You'd shouted at the glorious dark fae who towered over you at the fireplace as you poured porridge into a bowl for yourself. You'd even added lavender and vanilla to it to give it a better taste and with a dash of cinnamon it wasn't bad and yet here he was...bitching again. As you stared up at him you resisted the urge to groan. He looked excruciatingly gorgeous this morning, despite the paleness of his white skin and that seemed to fuel your anger even more.

"What did you just say?" He growled, his forest green eyes shifting between yours as you shoved past him to take a seat at the table.

"You heard me you beast! I said fuck...you. You stole me from my world and you won't let me go. Live with it. Don't like my cooking? Fine. Go out there and tear down the first living thing you see and destroy it like you destroy everything else you touch you disgusting creature of a man!" You slammed your bowl down, teeth gritted, jaw clenched, and just waited.

The shadows in the room seemed to crawl and snake their way over to Harry as his temper flared, his eyes went black, the warm air began to turn cold. His fingers extended into claws and his wings arched up and away from his body as if ready to attack.

He'd done this before. A bunch of parlor tricks to scare you but you weren't scared anymore.

And maybe that was the problem.

"Maybe I will tear down the first living thing I see. Maybe I'll start with you little mortal, hm? Maybe I'll plunge my claws into your chest and rip that pathetic excuse for a heart out of it and feast upon it. Maybe I'll dance upon your dead corpse while I lick the blood from my fingers. Does that sound good to you little mouse?" He took predatory steps towards you, his dark hair falling into his angular face, but you did not move. He didn't mean a single thing he said. He was a coward.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Besides...you weren't afraid of death. Your life had been a horrendous shit show back in the human world. One day blending into the next in continued monotony. An oblivion filled slumber sounded good to you at this point.

"Do it then. Then there will be two heartless monsters living in this home instead of just one." You seethed and as if a light switch had been flicked on, the shadows evaporated back to their original spots and the creature before you vanished. In its stead was Harry...just Harry, big green eyes hard but no longer shrouded in black. The sharp edges of his face became soft once more as he stared at you in shock.

He took a staggering step back, blinking his eyes as if he'd just woken up from a deep sleep. His brows remained furrowed and his hooded eyes only flicked to the floor once before looking back at you.