Chapter 25:

Song For The Chapter:
La la la melody- American Horror Story


Harry has been gone for over twenty minutes now. No sounds of him could be heard from the doorway. The sounds of clinking glasses mix with the cracking of thunder and lightning. The world spins around, the dark hallways with flashing lights and beating of the natural bass. Sounds echoing in the empty and humid rooms. Laughter mixes with cries, shadows playing tricks to the eye.

My feet nearly making sound, my lantern only lighting up the space two feet in front of me. I crept closer and closer to the only illuminated door. Voices growing louder and louder. And finally the never ending darkness morphed into the dim kitchen.

Harry, leaning over the bar with a drink in his hand. Bailey, Lou, Niall, Casper, Zayn, Louis, Niall, Jay, Cruz, Liam and his girlfriend. Everyone I had ever officially met, from the gang, here. Conversing over drinks and a game of Poker, bets high.

"Look what the cat dragged in." Bailey dragged me in. "Styles, I thought you said you left her?" Bailey snickered.

"I did." Harry gave me a dead stare and took another sip of his drink without breaking eye contact.

"So why's she here?" Bailey kicked her feet up onto the only remaining spot at the bar.

Harry gave me a nod, waiting for me to explain. "You left."

"And?" He glanced up from the drink he was making momentarily.

"You think you can do that?" I started raising my voice. Anger building up within me.

"Let me tell you something. You don't own me, you can't control me. I left, I was done. Don't follow me, I'm not yours." Harry spit in my face.

"All I want is to know why." I lowered my voice, trying to remain calm.

"I'm no good to be around. I'll fuck you up and make your life shit in more ways than one. Stay away, a good girl like you doesn't need someone like me around them." Harry had a smirk at the end if his words.

"Yeah, I'm no good to be around, just because I'm the good girl who won't suck your dick or fuck you countlessly just cause you asked-" I was on a roll, there is no way in hell he's just going to treat me like shit right now.

"Can I speak to you alone?" The smoothness in his voice was soft and practice. I was just about to come back with something before he dragged me away into the back of the kitchen. "What the fuck has gotten into you?" Harry's voice and grip were tight.

"What? The good girl going bad is too much to handle?"

"Stay the hell away Paris, before you get hurt." Harry's tone was rough but hushed.

"I've already been hurt Harry, it's too late now to fix your mess. You and I both know you can't deal with me being gone. Each time you find some shit reason or excuse to as why you need me back."

"Then why I you keep coming back after I supposedly hurt you?" Harry yelled only inches away from my face.

"I don't know, maybe each time I think you will stay the person you are with me. That you'll change-"

"My attitudes a tattoo, that means it's permanent, so we should address it." Harry cut me off for the second time in the last few minutes.

"You and I both know that is a lie. Where is the guy I saw back in your room?" I paused and watched as Harry fidgeted with each word. "Where's the guy I sat on the swings with in the pouring rain? What happened to him?"

"Goddamn it Paris!" Harry swung around, knocking dirty plates and glasses on the ground. For the second time tonight, he sent items crashing down. "You are so-"

"So what?" I tapped my foot, waiting for the insult to come.

Harry's response never came, so I left. "Don't you turn you fucking back on my!" Harry commanded even louder than I had. His fists coming in contact with the metal counter. Leaving a small dent in its perfect complexion.

"I should have turned my back on you the first time I saw you." I roughing pushed my fists against Harry's chest. I don't even know why I'm here. I get too caught up with the idea of him changing. The hope that the person everyone sees is just a cover. And maybe this gang thing I committed to was a vast mistake. I always knew I would regret it, but never so soon.

"Just don't go." Harry reached his unclenched fist out to grab my wrist.

I pulled my arm back, "Don't you fucking touch me."

"Please don't, don't leave." Harry's voice toned down.

"Why not? Gonna hurt me some more, got something to tell me? More insults to throw in my face?"

"I would never purposely try to hurt you." Harry's voice was hushed.

"Really? Cause I find that hard to believed." I crossed my arms and pouted.

"Do you honestly think I would try to hurt on you purpose?" Harry's voice sank , now down to a quiet, yet forceful murmur.

I was hesitant about this, I only know so much about Harry. Although I feel like I know so much more. He's saved me before... But he has hurt me too... It was ruthless battle inside my head before I could reach a coherent consensus.

Anger arose from Harry after my pause. "You think I fucking would?" He argued before restraining himself to a calmer tone. "Well you're wrong." Harry's chest puffed out and then back in. His fists clenched tightly and then released, grasping out at the air. "I would never try to hurt you." Harry made his statement very clear. "You know that now." Harry turned his back to me once again.

"I should go-"

"Wait, I need to know something before you go." Harry stopped me by revealing himself from the shadows. "Will you give it a try?" He picked up on my confusion and continued. "Will you give this a try." He motioned between us. "A constant."

"We can't keep doing this-" I was cut off again.

"Doing what? We can do whatever we want. I know you need me, and I need you, so would you plea-"

"You don't need me, you practically hate me. One moment we're all fine and next I'm the convic. This isn't
good for either of us." I took a deep breathe to hold back my emotions. This bipolar situation giving me anxiety.

"I could never hate you." His words came out a dash louder than a whisper under his breathe. "You said it yourself, you need me. Just please-"

"Harry no." I let out a sigh.

"Goddamn it Paris, please!"

"No." I stood my ground. "You're only saying this all because you're drunk."

Harry's eyes flashed anger and frustration mixed with hope. "Tell me you don't want this. Look me in the eye and say you don't want any of this." He continued. "No cuddling, no fort, no diner, no rain dancing. None of it."

And just like that he made everything so complicated. I thought I had my mind all made up, but I guess not. And I guess I'm not ready for all that to go.

"Who are you when you are with me?" I waited to hear the response I needed to make up my mind.

"Someone I want to be." Harry let out with a sigh of relief.

"When I'm with you, I'm someone I don't want to be. I have to be this fearless warrior in the midst of a gang. And I can't condone this to be my life, cause this is not me." My words came out like a jumbled mess.

"Just stay the night with me. And I'll prove everything to you."

"I've spent the night with you many times before, it's all the same. Morning time comes and we are even more different and distant than before the night. We can't work-"

"I'll make us work." Harry took my two hands, miniscule to in his, and held them against his chest. "All I want is one real night."

"If it takes me this long to say yes, then it must not be a good idea." I tried to let him down easy.

"If it took you this long to say no, then obviously it can't be too bad." His voice was strong with dignity and hope.

Damn Harry. Why must you get in my head like this?

"All I'm asking for is one night, one night Paris." Harry pushed on. "Afterwards, if you don't want anything to do with me, it's all up to you."

The mental drain this argument had on me was voluminously grievous. I came in here with the sense that he had an explanation or some sort of excuse that would be an extra advance for me to leave. While now I ponder over the essence of whether I should write a new story or be forever shut out of someone else's . And this is not something inconsiderable. I was agreeing to an opportunity for something wild and new or to a better well being. But I like to stay optimistic, and in order to do so, you've got to take a risk. And this is where that first leap begins.

"Yes."

HARRY'S P.O.V.

Paris bit her lip as she mauled over the proclamation one last time. The nerves were getting to me, each second my drive slipper away. I had a large amount of uncertainty before I first proposed the idea, and now, little by little, I started regretting it. How foolish for me to beg for her, a rookie mistake. One simple aberration should be unacceptable by a pro.

And then the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, quickened. My heart beating even faster that hers. "Yes." Her words echoed in my ear drums.

It took me a moment to collect what her response was. She couldn't even begin to fathom the emotions I'm feeling right now. It's always been me against the world, and maybe this time I'll have a sidekick to fight by my side.

I must have looked pretty stupid with my mouth wide open with no words spilling out. Thankfully my voice ignored the fireworks in my head, and concentrated enough to let me get a coherent sentence together. Paris didn't have a reaction, which for the first time, she was speechless too.

"Kiss me." I breathed.

It was a small and subtle gesture, imperceptible to the naked eye, but Paris rocked back and forth. Her mind tell her no, but her body telling her yes. The hesitation was clear, her hint obvious to me. So I did the only instinct I had, I went for it.

My lips crashing into her. The darkness around us lifted and the light shone as Paris returned the passion. Our lips moved in sync, allowing the past conversation drift beyond us. The pounding thunder and flashing lighting stopped. The sneaking glances and eavesdropping by our friends we left back at the bar faded. The dim light seemed to illuminate the whole dark room. And everything in the world seemed blurry and irrelevant besides, one thing. Paris.

Paris perched ensconced on the metal counter top with her legs twined around my abdomen. Her arms were draped around my neck while her fingers were tangled in my dark curls. I have been trying to fix something up for the both of us to eat. The consumption of food would really help me sober up. And what girl doesn't like a guy who can cook? But with our previous argument beyond Paris, she had other ideas.
I love the way she clings to me. The way she forgets everything bad I’ve done in a heartbeat just to get that little sign of affection. I just hope she could continue to treat me like this, and I could continue this positive obedience streak I’ve been on. But I know one day she will look at me the way the rest of the world, along with myself, sees me.

“What are you thinking about? What’s going on in your brain?” Paris stopped and finally allowed me some space to actually assemble our late night snack.

“If you saw what’s inside my mind, you’d be in tears.”

“Oh.” Paris discontinued her playful tone.

“Dinner is served.” I set down the radom plates piled high with scavenged food. Paris raised her eyebrows at my masterpiece. Clearly she was underwhelmed by my amount of skill. “Only so much food doesn’t need to be cooked or refrigerated.” I took the plates back in my hands after handing our drinks to Paris.

After tiptoeing down the long and dark hallways with our small, candle lit lantern, all i have to say is one thing. It takes some serious finesse to safely wander through without either A. bumping into things. Or B. getting scared by every sound or shadow like Paris.

“Finally!” Paris let out an exaggerated sigh of relief as she set foot through the threshold of my door.

“Now eat up, I didn’t put my blood, sweat, and tears into that Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich for nothing.” I teased.

“Ew, on second thought I may not want to eat this.” She pushed away her plate.

"Oh no you don't. I made this, so you're gonna fucking eat it!" I forced the sandwich to her mouth, smudging jelly all over her perfect face. She squealed and attempted to crawl away from my tight grip.
And our night moved on at an exceptional pace. I had convinced Paris to eat the sandwich meanwhile we sat on the floor telling knock knock jokes. As lame as it is to admit, it was worth it to hear her playful giggle and smile. But that was long gone now. Since then things started to escalate at a fast speed. The tension and patience was thick in the building. Some annoyed with the down pour while others were enjoying the benefits of the loud darkness. Couples everywhere, doing god knows what. Other groups played fucking pointless games in the low light as a source of entertainment. As for me, for once I felt as if my little good girl was itching for trouble, for a terrible memory her innocent self would regret later. In baby steps that is.

"Do you have any of those glow sticks little kids play with, by chance?" Paris took a risk in braking the peaceful silence.

"I don't, but Niall might." I parted the en suit doors and searched the room on the opposite room for the items. "Here, four packs sufficent?" I tossed them to Paris, still unsure if the purpose.

"I've always wanted to do this." Her smile grew as she raced out the door and headed towards the pool. "Swim in the pretty lights." Paris tossed the illuminating sticks into the pool, the Eaoria spreading. And just like that, my little girl stripped down to her bra and underwear, not hesitating to submerge herself in the cool liquid. I'm not sure what has gotten into her, and I'm not sure I like it completely. "What? Don't give me that look? Join me!" She coaxed.

"What the fuck has gotten into you? Damn Paris." I watched her squirl around, waiting for me.

"I learned to live from the best!" Paris changed the direction of the water, little whirled pools circling her.

"I'm not sure I like this." Learning how to live from me would be the biggest mistake in her life. There so so many things she's oblivious to and it would destroy her to know. I will slowly deteriorate her. Drag her down to the gates of hell with me. There's no doubt in my mind that I won't rip her up into pieces, so small they will never be able to be fixed. It's one of the many luxurious talents than I'm fucked with. My life's a gamble I'm constantly loosing. And my chips are numbered.

"Come on!" Paris pouted and tugged on my legs. Such a sexy ass baby.

"Fine." I grumbled and joined her in the cold water.

And the good girl had gone bad. Swirling herself around me, while I stood frozen, unsure of her actions, taunting me with each movement and splash in my direction. However Her excitement was slowly drained after I didn't react.

"I bet I can dive better than you." Paris sounded unsure of her own words. Her worry and nervousness was obvious to me. She was hiding away herself so I wouldn't judge her, and I knew it.

"Deal." I played along and waited for her skinny little ass to strut out of the pool and over to the diving bored.

Paris's dive was impressive. Her "technique" as far as I know, was spot on. But then again, I bearly know how to swim, let alone dive. As I approached the board I was hit with a brilliant idea.

The moment came and the impact hit. My drive with "style" happened to taken a turn for the worst. I spun around and took the impact of the water with my back, the sting shooting from my head to my toes. So I waited, floating in suspension for Paris to come. Darkness surrounding me, with nothing but the sounds of frantic waves. Her weak body dragged me out of the water and onto a chair. Her breathing had shortened and quickened. I couldn't see her face, but I could picture the havoc look in her eyes. It's something sad I can admit, almost like I had seen that face of terror before, which is something mad to say.

"Harry? Harry, please!" Paris shook me a little and checked for my breathing. Luckily I was tactically skilled and held my breath long enough to scare the hell out of her.

Soon her life saving antics kicked in and she began giving me mouth-to-mouth. I couldn't resist the taste of her luscious lips on mine. It took all the restraints and control I had not to kiss her back. And the more I held out, the more desperate and strongly passionate they became. Her lips lingered for too long after a while, and I knew she hit the realization point. Shit finally became real to her. My eyes just barley fluttered open enough to make out her position. Head cupped in her hands, deep and heavy breathing in an irregular pattern. She was most defiantly crying. And it hurt me to think I execute a plan so devilish to an innocent flower.

But maybe that's the reason I did it, to prove to myself I am exactly who I think I am, slowly changing that little flower infront of me. And maybe I hadn't damaged her enough yet to have her change completely. And I needed that reassurance that I hadn't killed her off yet, burned her delicate petals. Only a plan like this could belong to a madman.

Her lips pressed to mine one last time, trying to light that spark inside of me. My arms swung around her, pulling her back into me as i returned her gesture. Paris tried to let out a little scream, but her cry was muffled by our lips moving on sync.

"How dare you, you little, little- fucker," Paris removed herself from me and shouted in my face. "You're such a fucking asshole! Who the hell does something like that?" She distanced herself from me.

"A madman." I let the word slip from my thoughts without any thought.

"WelI I don’t want to go among mad people," Paris let out a little smile.

"Oh, you can’t help that," I replied. "we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad."

"How do you know I’m mad?" Paris had a full blown smile.

"You must be," I couldn't help but grin. "or you wouldn’t have come here.”

"I'm afraid so. You're entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are." Paris mixed two of the marvelous words of Lewis Carroll's, Alice In Wonderland.

One of my favorite books, because it depicts a life I'm so accustomed to. A world of confusion and insanity. Smoke, drugs, and lots of violence. I'm probably Alice, cause I never expected any of this. Only I wish this was all a dream.

And everything faded off into the distance, just like the Cheshire Cat. All I could see was Paris, the girl who seemed to view me different than all the others. The girl who loved to read and write, and then girl who loved life too much. The dangers and distant screaming from within was silenced. The whole world was focused on Paris. And the two little words forming on her lips.

"Let's try."

Notes

Sorry I haven't been updating! I've been really really sick for the past four or five days so it's been hard. At one point today my doctor started laughing at me because i was on so many different medications (4) I forgot to mention one of my side effects, which turned out to be very important. To doctors it's kind of funny when you forget to mention your swollen throat or almost broken ribs, when your "high" on Meds.

thats all! Hope all my new, and old, readers like it! Thanks a lot!
xoxo
-E