You Know What They Do To Girls Like Us

“Robin, Robinnnnn,” a muffled voice speaks as I try to open my eyelids.

“Mmm?” I roll over on my side.

“Robin.”

I open one eye. Sara.

“Bonjour,” I groan.

“It’s time to get up,” she giggles. “Paula wants us in the dining hall in like 5 minutes.”

Her wide eyes express urgency, so I drag myself out of bed.

She sits patiently on my bed as I get dressed. Some black leggings and a large, tan sweater are already laid out for me in the bathroom.

“You didn’t sleep?” I ask as I cross the room to get a comb to brush my hair.

“I couldn’t,” she sighs. “I just started walking around the House. I didn’t really know where I was going, but I just needed to move.”

“I know the feeling,” I give her a sympathetic smile. “Okay, I’m ready. You know where the dining hall is then?”

“Mhm,” she hops up and we walk out the door.

As we take our first step into the hallway, Harry emerges from his room.

“Ladies,” he acknowledges us. “Robin.”

His dark eyes meet with mine. A small chill runs down my spine as we turn our backs on him.

“That was intense,” Sara looks back to see if he’s behind us. “He must have gone a different route.”

“Good,” the burning of his stare is off my back.

“Is he always like that?” Sara nudges me to take a right.

“Unfortunately, yes,” I glare at the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “At least he gave you a nice room.”

“What do you mean? I don’t think he’s capable of doing anything related to the word nice,” I ask as we take another right onto the stairs of the entry hall. Sara lets out a small laugh.

“Well, your master decides how your room looks,” Sara explains. “For example, I told Louis about how much I missed France and the little apartment I had. So he instructed that my room have a tiny balcony and look nearly just like my room in Marseille.”

“So Harry instructed to put all those bookshelves and everything in my room?” I’m aghast.

“Almost just like Louis’ room,” Sara grins.

“But why…” I wonder aloud.

“Ladies!” a crisp voice interrupts my thoughts. It’s Paula. “Come in!”

She beckons to us from across the hall and so we enter the dining hall. An ornate wooden table stretches the entire length of the room which is so long that I can’t fathom how many yards it is. I estimate at least one hundred chairs lining the table. The walls are pure murals of Greek myths judging from the togas and olive crowns. Five chandeliers like the ones in the entry hall hang across the ceiling. The entire room looks like it was taken from an extremely elite dinner party – which I guess it kind of is.

“Sit down, sit down,” Paula’s smile stretches as we take our seats across from our masters. Niall just stands by himself; poor boy. All of the boys are dressed rather dapperly. I look to Louis with a questioning look. He mouths back ‘interview’. I form an ‘o’ with my lips to signal understanding. He winks and I blush hastily turning back to Paula.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why you have been called here,” Paula clasps her hands together. A snort from April. I think I see Zayn try to hide a smile. “One Direction is hosting a masquerade dinner! It is absolutely crucial that all the preparations are made without any trouble, so we’re going to start getting ready now. The dinner will be held in three days. Each of you girls will be instructed by your masters what relation you have to them, for the sake of the public attention, and etiquette. You will find your masquerade gowns in your rooms. Try them on as soon as you can, so we can get them fit. You must absolutely follow the orders of your masters or there will be consequences.”

She hesitates on the last sentence.

“So now please follow your masters to their room to begin preparing your composure for the evening,” Paula claps her hands and the boys start ushering us out.

“Come on, we don’t have all day,” Harry towers over me. I lift my chin up and rise up from the chair to walk to his room.

We finally reach his room. He shuts the door as I softly pad to the center of the room. I watch him as he starts pulling casual clothes out of drawers.

“So according to management,” he starts taking off his tie. “You’re going to be posing as my girlfriend.”

“God,” I roll my eyes.

“I know you hate it, but for the sake of your safety and mine can you just suck it the fuck up,” he turns to me with a clenched jaw. His shirt is half unbuttoned exposing his sculpted ab – wait what no.

“Sorry,” I mumble and look down when he notices me staring.

“Anyway,” he turns back and pulls off his shirt. I can’t help but observe the way his back muscles move when he lifts his arms. “There isn’t much etiquette. Only speak after someone has spoken to you. Do not leave my side unless I give you permission. Do not dance with anyone without my permission.”

He pulls on an under shirt and turns to me. Leaning against the wall with arms crossed, he watches me fidget under his gaze.

“And no communication with Louis,” he starts walking past me to get to the bathroom.

“Y-you are so…” I stutter in fury. “You have no heart.”

Before I can turn to look at him, he grabs my jaw forcing me to look up at him.

“Do you think this is a game?” he whispers angrily. “Well wake up, Robin, because this isn’t a game. Nobody wins. This life we’re living is a one act play and you have to play your part perfectly in order to survive. It doesn’t matter who you really are or what you believe, you act like you are instructed to. It doesn’t matter how you really feel.”

For a second I think I see sadness cloud his eyes as he speaks the last few words, but a dark rage quickly masks it.

“Do you understand?” he holds my jaw tighter.

“Yes,” my voice just barely cracks.

He releases. My hand immediately flies to the soreness pulsing in my jaw.

Harry stands there for a second looking at me.

“Go,” he turns to go to the bathroom. He places both palms at each end of the small counter and leans forward slightly. Staring straight ahead, he studies his reflection in the mirror.

I hesitate before speaking.

“Harry,” I softly call out.

“What,” his voice is brusque as he doesn’t move.

“Thank you for, um, the bookshelves,” I want to smack myself.

He turns to look at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

“You’re welcome…” his voice is barely audible. He clears his throat and resumes his dark expression. “You should be grateful. Now please, leave.”

I nod and walk out of the room.

What the hell was that?

Notes

Ooh things are getting intense. >_>
Let me know in the comments what you thought of the chapter and the story so far! Thank you for reading, gems!
~christi ellie