Crown of Thorns

Today's a student free day at Deltern and I've been doing nothing all day so mum decided to drag me out for some food shopping.
I scan the frozen food section, walking slowly as I push the trolley in front of me. On my right, mum cheerily hums along with Michael Bublé that this particular grocery is so fond of playing. As my gaze runs over the selection of frozen vegetables, my mind whirs with thoughts.
Dad left on Monday, staying a day late because he isn't returning for another month. Normally that would be a huge relief because all my stress would be gone. But now all I can think about is how many people is he killing, how many families is he tearing apart? What is he doing right now? Why hasn't he told us? What he's doing, what he's truly doing with his work? Why has he lied?
I look at mum and I wonder if she knows. She's smiling absently to herself, that same old sparkle in her eyes. Would she have that sparkle in her eyes if she knew her husband was murdering people? I don't think so.
And what about Harry? Dad and him know each other. Both of them have some sort of feud between them. What happened?
God, my head's hurting. Why does everything have to be so complicated? And plus I got no answers on the gangs that everyone's talking about. Harry hasn't been much help, I haven't seen him at all outside of school. We've both been too busy, I've been studying but what has he been doing? Do I even want to know?
My phone chirps and I fish it out of my jean pockets.
Harry: Can I see you tonight?
The corners of my lips turn up at the coincidence. Speaking of the curly haired devil.
Me: Sure
Harry: Come over at seven
So demanding, I think and my smile grows bigger.
Me: Say please
A minute passes before he replies and I wonder if he's smiling as big as I am.
Harry: Please
Me: Good boy
Harry: Don't eat before you come over
Me: You're cooking?
Harry: I'll try, Maurice is out
My mind flashes to the grumpy, sour cook that Harry has employed at the house.
Me: I'll help out :)
Harry: Thank god. See ya at seven then
Me: See ya
This time when I go over, I'll be getting answers.


~~~

I knock lightly on the door, it's seven on the dot and night has already fallen. The crescent moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silverly glow across the street. My breath clouds in front of my face and I aggressively rub my hands together for warmth.
Behind Harry's door I hear a scuffle of fast pacing footsteps. The door swings open and my gaze drops to the small black haired figure dressed in batman flannel pyjamas, tiredly scrubbing away all the sleep from his eyes. They grow big in excitement when they see me.
"Hi-Hi Mia." Max smiles shyly at me. I return his smile just as Harry loudly walks up to the front door. I can't help the blush that works up my throat when I see him. His curls all disheveled and sticking up in random places, he wears a plain white t-shirt, soft looking grey tracksuit pants and no shoes. He yawns absently and I notice he looks quite rumpled.
"Hey," I greet him, my voice a little breathy. Even in tracksuit pants he's still gorgeous.
"Hey," he replies back, his tone low and rumbling, "Max and I just had a nap. We're still a bit tired." My mind instantly flashes to an image of Harry and Max curled up together sleeping soundly. I have to bite back a girly scream. God, it's just too cute.
"Sorry, but we're baby sitting tonight." Harry moves to shut the door behind me as I step into the lavish house. I feel a small warm hand take my own and I look down to see Max absently rubbing his eyes again, probably not even realising that he took my hand in his. Harry, takes my other hand, also quite absently and leads me down the house to the kitchen. My face is hurting so bad from trying to stifle the biggest, motherfucking grin.
"The guys are out tonight, they're at a club. So they won't be back until late." Harry drops my hand and goes to the fridge to get the ingredients to whatever we're cooking.
"Wait, how old are they?" I ask, confused. Max lets go of my hand and climbs into the chair at the dining table. Harry smiles into the fridge, pulling out a packet of mince and a bunch of fresh tomatoes.
"Niall and I are the youngest. Liam's nineteen, Zayn's twenty and Louis' soon twenty one," he explains and I nod.
"Harry," Max says, sitting on his chair, the table up to his chin, "is Mia staying for meatballs and spag-spag-hetety?" I look to Harry in confusion.
"He can't pronounce spaghetti," Harry informs me then shuts the fridge and turns to Max, "yes she's staying for dinner. But she's not going to play with you." I open my mouth to protest but Max beats me to it.
"But she's my friend!"
"Well she's my girlfriend." I know that Harry and I are kinda dating but this is the first time we've really acknowledged it out loud. My heart flutters a little in my chest.
"You're married?" Max gasps, his blue eyes big and mouth open. "Does that mean you love each other? Eww!"
"You didn't tell me we were married, Harry," I exclaim in fake surprise, trying to stifle laughter. Harry's face is mainly impassive but a little incredulous. "We're not married, Max."
"Oh." Max's face fell a little bit. "Can we get married then. Can you be my wife?"
I laugh, "sure thing, sweetheart." I hear Harry sigh and turn around to face the working bench. "Stop chatting up Mia and come help me cook, player."
Max slips off his chair and steps up onto a stool beside Harry. I also get up and join them and for the next half hour the three of us cook spaghetti meatballs. Sitting down and eating at the dinner table with the both of them is lovely and adorable. Even though Harry doesn't really know how to behave and treat Max I can still see the care and love in his eyes. Harry seems to have a fierce protection over him, one that I've witnessed first hand. I know that he'll cut down anyone that might cause harm to Max.
Max on the other hand seem to admire and look up to Harry so much. He laughs when Harry laughs even if he doesn't understand my crappy joke. I watch Max carry his plate up to the sink after Harry so they can rinse their plates the exact same way. But it isn't until Max proposes the idea of watching Avengers, his favourite movie, that I realise how much they actually love each other.
We all sit on the grey L-shaped lounge, the lights turned off and the opening credits playing. Once again I am between Harry and Max. Max is hugging Mr Man to his chest, his eyes wide and unmoving from the screen. Harry's arm is resting on the back of the couch behind me, providing me with a small hallow up space to curl up next to him.
As the movie goes on I feel Harry's long fingers in my hair, gently combing through it's tangles. The action seems to be done absentmindedly, like he doesn't even realise he's doing it. I allow my body to relax against him, breathing in his amazing masculine smell.
Half way through the movie, Harry crooks his arm that's now around my shoulders and pulls me close. "You wore your hair down," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. I blush in the darkness and remain silent. I feel his lips take the shape of a smug smile as he kisses my hair.
Not for the first time this week I wonder how on earth Harry and I got to where we are. Not that I have any problems with it, but maybe it seems like we're moving too fast? Like we hated each other a couple weeks ago but now we're dating?
What do you know about relationships Mia? A voice inside my head asks me and I mentally return a shrug. I don't want to deal with my thoughts right now.
Max leaps up from his seat as the end credits roll and declares, "I'm Ironman!"
"No you're not, Tony Stark is," Harry replies.
"I wanna be Tony Stark then." Little Max crosses his arms over his chest, Mr Man tucked under his arm.
"Robert Downey Junior is Tony Stark," Harry says and is rewarded by a unhappy pout from Max.
"I'm Tony Stark and Robert Junior and Iron Man."
"Robert Downey Junior and you can't be him because Robert's a real person."
"Oh hush, Harry," I stand and walk over to Max, "Tony Stark is fictional. You wanna look like Tony?" Max nods firmly, a little scowl on his face, his mouth screwed up.
"Mia," Harry complains and I kneel next to Max and turn to face Harry still sitting on the couch.
"What do you think, Max. Does Harry look a little green to you?" I watch as a look of understanding slowly dawns across both of the boys face. "Yeah, he's looking really green. Harry, are turning into the Hulk?" I ask innocently and Harry glares at me but I can see a small smile playing with the corners of his lips.
I turn to Max. "You reckon we could use your textas?" Max nods, his eyes shinning excitedly. Harry groans.

~~~

Max sits on the table as I draw an absolutely horrid copy of Tony Stark's facial hair onto Max's cheeks and chin in black marker. I laugh as I accidentally smudge most of it onto his forehead and cheekbones so he looks more like he's come out of a sooty fireplace.
He slips off the table and pulls on his plastic Ironman robot gloves and runs around the house screaming at the top of his lungs, "I am Tony Stark the Ironman you fools!"
I laugh hysterically, sliding my iPhone out and taking a few shots. Thanks to Max I play the character of Captain Amiaica. I steal a red blanket from off the back of the couch and tie it around my neck to be my cape. My hair goes up in two high ponytails and Max helps me stripe the colours red, blue and grey (there was no white) onto my cheeks.
When I'm done, I look over at Harry leaning against the wall, a bemused expression on his face. I smile slyly at him and crook my finger at him. He sighs but makes his way to stand in front of me.
With the wicked smile still on my face I pick up a green marker from off the table. I open it dramatically, waving it in front of Harry's eyes. They follow the marker, his face full of mock horror.
I lower it onto Harry's arm, my hand coming up to hold onto his wrist. The tip brushes his skin and I slowly draw a line up his forearm, our gazes locked. A giggle escapes my lips and after a second, I begin to aggressively colour in his arm.
"Hey!" Harry shouts and playfully tugs his wrist away from my hold. I giggle manically as I scrub the marker up and down, my grip tightening. Harry's other hand comes around to tickle my exposed side.
"Max- Tony!" I shriek and bend my body to get away from Harry's large hand, "Get his other hand, hold it down. The Hulk's about to be unleashed!" Max rushes to my side with great gasp of alarm. He grabs a hold of Harry's non-green arm and pulls it away from me but by now Harry's fake growling and bucking out of control. I quickly smear the green ink onto my fingertips and smudge it into Harry's cheeks.
"Hold down this arm!" I order Mini Ironman and we swap sides, Max holding down Harry's green arm and me colouring in his other one.
"Noo!" I dramatically cry when Harry shakes us both lose. With a snarl Harry reaches behind him and pulls off his t-shirt, his green arms rising to the roof and his fingers curled.
"The Hulk has been unleashed!" I gasp and beside me Max squeals with delight.
"Roar!" Harry bellows and scoops me up bridal style. By now I'm laughing so hard I don't even try to escape. Harry carries me back to the lounge and throws me onto the couch, bending down to tickle me mercilessly.
"No! Max, help!" I cry past my shrieks of laughter. I fruitlessly try to bat Harry's hands away from my stomach. Max jumps onto Harry's back, latching onto to his shoulders. Harry pretends to fall under Max's weight. Both of them hit the carpet in laughter and mock growls. I can't do much but stay where I am on the couch and try to get my breath, little hysterically giggles bursting from my lips every now and again.
Max falls asleep pretty quick after all that. I don't blame the solider, we spent the rest of the night taking pictures and running around the mansion screaming and hollering at the top of our lungs. Luckily we got Max all cleaned up in time before he fell asleep.
It's about ten by the time Harry and I clean ourselves up and I would be lying if I said that I didn't enjoy help scrub off the highlighted green abs off Harry's real ones. Afterwards he slips back on his shirt much to my disappointment.
We lean against the sink after we're done washing our faces. I raise the hand towel Harry got me to my wet face and dry my cheeks. I feel Harry inch closer, his fingers undoing the ties in my hair. The wet tangles fall down my back and I drop the towel away from my face to see Harry lean in close.
His eyes are so green and bright, shining with happiness. Small droplets of water cling to his eyelashes, making them seem darker and longer. He smiles at me, his dimples grooving into his cheeks.
"That was fun," I say, my voice low and wavering. My heart pounds in my chest at his closeness.
"Thanks Mia," Harry sincerely says in a low voice, "I'm not very good with him and in the environment that he's been brought up in, this, I know, will mean a lot to him. Thank you for being here tonight."
Although my heart warms at the comment, it also chills at the mention of Max's dark situation. I think about Max being trapped in that house as his mother screams at an faceless man. It's this cold reminder that makes me think about what dad asked about Harry and about the answers that I promised to myself I was going to get tonight .
"Thank you," I respond and then take in a deep breath to prepare myself for what I am to say next, "Harry, my dad, he asked about you." And like a light that has been switched off, I watch the joy in Harry's eyes and the smile on his face disappear in a flash. He flinches back and I can't help but feel a sting of hurt.
Just like that, I feel all the light and happiness of tonight go down the drain.
"What did he ask?" Harry's face has closed up completely, no emotion leaking into his voice. I swallow nervously, not knowing exactly what to do now that I've opened up this topic.
"He just asked if I talked to you at all."
"And what did you say?" His eyes flash and I instantly regret starting this conversation. Answers Mia, we need answers! A voice urgently reminds me and I try to put on a brave face.
"I said yes and that's all."
Harry looks away, his jaw clenched, his expression stormy. "Good." He leans back against the counter, next to the sink, away from me. I stare at him in desperation. He's now not saying anything,talk to me Harry! What was so bad that happened?
"Harry," my voice is full of concern and fear of what might have happened. When I don't get any reaction I try again, "Harry." His eyes flicker to me and I can see that he's restraining something, anger probably.
Unlike before where his face was closed and indecipherable, now I can read it like a book. I can see the muscles in his jaw moving as he grinds his teeth slowly. His eyes are glittering with something dark and unsafe. I can almost hear the the wheels turning in his head as he thinks deeply about something.
Harry doesn't seem to be angry, he's furious.
I'm very much taken back by his reaction, I knew it'd be a negative one but I didn't expect this. "What happened between you and my dad?" Please, I need to know.
"Sit down," Harry harshly commands, flicking his head towards the table. I hesitate at first but then decide not to upset him any further, not trusting the look in his eyes that makes me believe he can snap at any moment. I awkwardly sit down in the chair closet to Harry, not at all liking this situation. But I need answers, I'm sick of these secrets and not knowing what's going on. I don't like being in the dark.
Harry doesn't move away from the counter, he doesn't look at me either. "My dad was an illegal arms dealer. He sold and manufactured weapons for a living. He was really good at it too, he made millions. Mum used to look after to me when dad was on business, I never used to see much of him. I was eight when they passed away," he begins, his voice rough with barely controlled rage.
I never really knew Harry's dad, Mr Styles, that well, even though he saved my life according to Harry. But I don't know how to react to this apparent truth of him dealing weapons as a job.
"My mum's sister took me in. She wasn't good for much, aunt Helen, she liked to drink a lot when she thought I wasn't looking. She lived in a shit house in a shit neighbourhood too. I went from having everything to having nothing within a week."
I almost forget to breathe, finally I'm getting a peak into Harry's life away from me, but it's nothing that I expected. Nothing at all.
"My parents left me money sure, but I wasn't allowed to touch it until I was eighteen. Helen didn't have much and I needed to get by. So by the time I was thirteen I was taking drugs and by fifteen I was selling them. A year later I joined a gang. That's how I met that fucker Sam. His parents had passed away as well and like me he lived with his aunt. But unlike me he still lived in Deltern and he had money where I couldn't touch mine. He excelled at school, I had been expelled twice. But he and I stuck together, in that gang, we were friends."
My blood chills when I hear Sam's name on Harry's lips. My heart picks up speed and I start to sweat. It makes total sense that they were once friends, they knew each other too well to be acquaintances or strangers. But the news still shocks and freaks me out.
"It was us. James and his merry men."
Now that is a name I know. I remember James well as he scared the crap out of me when I first met him at his party that Sam took me to. He was tall, good looking and he had cruel black eyes that seemed to see me right down to the bone. It doesn't surprise me that he's a gang leader.
"Sam and I sold a lot of cocaine and ice. We made a good team but he was sick. His father was an evil man before your dad killed him. He used to hit and rape Sam's mother. So after they were gone, Sam grew up thinking this was okay. That he could hit women and that was normal. I can still remember hearing him with one of James' prostitutes. She was crying and screaming so loud that all of us could hear it in that house. We could hear him laughing too."
Harry finally meets my horrified gaze. His eyes thick with hatred, disgust and deep regret. "I left soon after that night. I knew I needed to get out when no one, no one, neither cared nor questioned Sam after he came out of that room to greet us in the lounge. They sat there, through the entire fucking hour ignoring the whole thing."
I flinch back and drop my stare to my hands. My fingers wring themselves stressfully, pulling and pressing. Looks like I'm getting answers to questions I never asked. But I don't want to interrupt Harry, I feel this is as much as I'll ever get out of him again.
"I got out of there quick. On my own, I managed to find an old friend of my dad's who used to work for him, he helped me reinvent the company and start anew. And when I turned eighteen last year I traveled to Spain where my dad's company was based in and I reemployed everyone who originally worked for dad. Now I'm selling and trafficking arms all over the world. I'm earning millions and since I've moved back into Deltern your dad's concerned. A big underground name settling in his perfect city, right next door to his perfect daughter." I almost miss it when he murmurs, "he should be worried."
I shiver at that, my blood turning to ice. I feel sick and numb. I don't know how to respond, I just sit here, in my chair. I feel tears prickling in my eyes, I inwardly curse at myself for being so pathetic. This isn't even my story, it's Harry's. I shouldn't be crying.
I glance at up him, he's staring at the floor. His body is still and looks hard as stone. He's angry but I also think he's sad. What a life that must have been, to be so alone in that cruel world. Even though he had people around him, Harry had no one.
I want to go up and hug him, I want to hold him close and kiss his hair. I want to tell him that I'm here that he doesn't ever have to be alone again but I can't move from my seat. I want to vomit when I ask, "why does my dad kill people? Why does he know about gangs? What does he know about you?"
Oh that's brilliant, Mia. Harry just told you everything about himself and you changed the subject. You really must care. The voice inside my head snaps and guilt rushes through me like a tidal wave.
"Your father controls and maintains gang and criminal activity within the city. Gang leaders and psychos pay him to keep their identity and location a secret from the government. The city is so rich because there's so many criminals living in secret within these suburbs. Selling drugs, making money." Harry lifts his eyes away from the floor, fury cracking like lightening within the green pits. Now I really feel like I want to puke, this is all just so wrong and messed up.
Harry sneers when he says, "he's a smart man your dad, he's got the economy of the city running smoothly as well as keeping reported crime to a minimum. Deltern's apparently a safe place as long as your dad's around to keep it running. But as soon as someone forgets to pay, he flushes them out and either the police or other criminals get them."
I can't help the tear that escapes from my eye and rolls down my cheek. I sniff as I wipe it away.Pathetic. I nod slowly, swallowing the risen bile in my throat, accepting everything. It's just so surreal. My dad being a criminal, Harry being a criminal. These people I've grown up with, that I've known for all of my life, they're nothing what I though they were.
I stand up, still nodding, guilt and shock running through me. "Okay," I say weakly, rubbing my sweaty palms on my thighs, "okay." I blow air out past my lips, my legs trembling a little. "I-I needed to ask you, Harry." My voice is weary and sounds quite distant. "I don't like being in the dark, I had to know. I'm sorry, I know I've made you angry. But I just, I can't- I don't know. There's so many secrets and people keep lying to me. I needed answers, I just needed to know."
Although I think I sound sincere and honest and apologetic it seems to have no effect on Harry. He nods absentmindedly, giving the impression that he didn't even hear me. I sniff again as I stare at him as he stares at the floor.
"I'm sorry." I repeat, hoping he hears me. He doesn't move this time and I stifle the need to sob like a baby. This night has been perfect up until now, up until I opened my stupid mouth. I want to punch myself in the face, I feel like such a fucking idiot.
Then I remember Emma telling me about the double date on Saturday. I laugh out loud, a horrible coughing sort of sound. I have forgotten to tell Harry.
"Emma's invited us out tomorrow for lunch with her boyfriend." I may as well tell him. This night couldn't get any worse.
Harry doesn't even look up when he says, "I can't. I'm busy."
Of course he is. Says the nasty, sarcastic voice at the back of my head, he doesn't want to go anywhere with you now. Hurt cuts through me like a knife and yet I nod slowly.
"Okay. I've already said I'll go so I'll just go by myself then." I wait for him to respond but Harry says nothing. Desperation rises in my throat, I need some sort of reaction but once again I receive nothing.
"Goodnight then."
"Night," he mutters harshly and I wince. I hurry out of the house, fleeing from my own boyfriend. I shut the door behind me and cross over to my house. I wrap my arms around my middle against the night's chill. In my head I repeat to myself how stupid I am, how much I fucked up and how much Harry probably hates me now. But a smaller voice reminds me that I needed to do this for me. I refuse to be in the dark any longer.
But even as I reason with myself I still feel terribly guilty for ruining the night and causing Harry to get angry. Slamming the front door behind me, I run up the stairs of my home. Standing in front of my bed, I fall face first into my pillows and let out a muffled scream of frustration.

Notes

All credits for this story goes too the user doily