Twisted

I immediately began looking for any kind of excuse. I had a feeling that when it came to sex, Harry was not the “gentle” type—which I would have preferred to have someone very gentle to lose my virginity to. Who wants to have their first time with someone so rough? Some girls may like that, and it might even be considered rape, but I was not into it. At all. Things such as boyfriends never did seem all that interesting to me, but I was nonetheless a girl who dreamed about having their first time with a guy with dashing good-looks. Someone who cared about me.
Harry doesn’t care about me.
That’s one thing I did know.
But…did Harry care about anyone?
My eyes involuntarily fell on the body bag, a pool of thick blood forming around it, and just as Harry reached out to touch me, I blurted, “The body.”
For a moment, Harry looked confused. And then it dawned on him. Looking a bit irritated, he glanced over at the bag and mumbled, “I forgot about that.”
How can you forget about a dead body lying right outside of your kitchen?
He sighed and said, “Go upstairs. I’ll be up there in a minute.”
My face paled. “Are you going to rape me?”
He seemed to find that funny, as if I had just told him a joke. Honestly, Louis laughed at my jokes earlier in the car. He had a good sense of humor. Harry’s humor was a bit more…
Twisted.
“It’s not rape if it’s not willing.” He replied.
“That’s a cliché thing to say.” I spat bitterly.
Harry’s entire body froze from the tone of my voice. My entire body tensed up when his smile disappeared. “Claire. Don’t talk to me like that.” His eyes glared at me harshly and my throat tightened just from the look.
For a moment, I stood there, reluctant to say anything. But when he seemed satisfied with my silence, defiance rose in me and I said, “Respect goes both ways, you know.”
He froze and I continued. “You can’t expect me just to respect you when you’ve done nothing to earn it.”
“You’re right.” He replied, locking eyes with me. I struggled to stand my ground. His body literally towered over mine. I remembered that he had just killed a man just a few minutes ago with no remorse—even though the man was trying to kill me. He took a step towards me and I forced myself not to move away. Every other time he did this, I would back up. No. I had to show him. Show him what? I didn’t know yet. “You know, I could take you down to some smelly basement and rape the shit out of you.” His voice was almost soothing, yet there was some kind of threatening tone to it, one that made my skin crawl. “I could make you wish you were never a girl. I could starve you. I could beat you. I could force you to do drugs. Hell, I could really do some damage to you; I could turn your world upside down.” Images flashed in my mind and I was really starting to regret standing up to him. He even leaned down, his lips right next to my ear, and whispered, “All in all, you should be thanking me.”
In other words: I want you to fear me.
Numbly, I mumbled, “You’re a heartless bastard.”
I was expecting him to smirk back at me and say something derisive. Instead, he pulled away, looked me right in the eyes and stated matter-of-factly, “It’s called adapting.”
It’s called adapting?
What the hell could that mean?
With that said, Harry sauntered over to the bag and picked it up, keeping it away from his body to avoid getting blood on him. I immediately began heading upstairs, not wanting to watch him dispose of the body.
As I began making my way to his room, my thoughts wandered.
What could he mean by “adapting?”
Was he referring to Daryl? Did he feel like he had to be heartless in order to survive? Ugh. This was all so confusing. I couldn’t figure out Harry. And I was still a little shooken up from what he told me what he could be doing to me. I had to admit, he wasn’t that bad to me. He could’ve raped me. This, above all, confused me. Fran told me Harry did terrible things to girls all the time.
He hasn’t done anything absolutely terrible to me…so far…as of now, all he really did was slap me. Hard. But that seemed nothing to what other things I could imagine he’s done to other girls.
This thought filled me with dread as I walked into his room. I did feel a little proud of myself. I found it, without getting lost. Kudos. But as I took a seat on his unmade bed, dread twisted my stomach. Was it finally time? He partially said he wasn’t going to rape me. Then what is he planning on doing?
I waited a few minutes until I heard his footsteps. My heart began beating the closer he got, and I held a pillow in front of me, as if to shield myself. I watched the door closely, waiting for him to emerge and start laughing manically like the villains in movies do.
Instead Harry walked in holding a stereo in his arms. Yes, a stereo. With speakers and everything. He said nothing to me as he set it down on his dresser, bending down to plug it in. He was actually having some trouble reaching the plug, since it was behind the dresser, and I watched as he said a curse word, looking a bit irritated as he shoved the dresser roughly to reach it. When he had it plugged in, he checked the CD inside, closed it, and turned it on.
What was he doing?
He clicked play and immediately, the room was entranced with soft, classical piano music. Harry ran a hand through his hair and finally looked at me. My guard lowered a little as I asked hesitantly, “What are you doing?”
“Playing music.” He replied carefully.
“Why?”
He found the object lying on the ground and examined it like it was an artifact. “Do you have to question everything I do?”
Some kind of instrument—a violin?—joined the piano, and the music almost sounded…romantic.
Immediately I felt like my mood had shifted. Harry set the object down on the dresser and made his way to me. However, as he got closer, I held up the pillow defensively but he took it out of my hands without a word and tossed it to the floor. He immediately grabbed my ankles and pulled me closer in one swift, effortless move, wrapping my legs around his waist. A smirk tugged at his lips as his eyes glanced down at me.
Immediately I began trying to back away, unwanted tears springing in my eyes. “No—Harry! Please don’t do this.”
“Shh,” He hushed me, bending towards me to press our bodies closer. The music was growing louder, more instruments strumming with the others. Harry was smart to add the music. Music could have an effect on how you felt when listening to it. Listening to heavy metal rock music could make you feel bad-ass or dangerous; listening to rap could make you feel like a gangster. Listening to this calmed my nerves, yet even with it, I could feel terror gripping my heart when Harry pulled me close. The possibility of what he could do to me feared me.
“No!” I cried, feeling him lean down so my back was pressed into the bed. He practically lay on top of me, and my legs hung limply around his waist. I tried kicking them, but I didn’t have any room; and even if I did, it would have no effect. “Starve me! Beat me! Lock me up! Anything but this!” Being raped had to hurt. I remembered him shoving his fingers inside of me and that hurt so much. I couldn’t imagine having something much bigger being inside of me right now.
“I’m not going to fucking rape you!” Harry snapped suddenly, causing me to go still. His eyes were dark, glaring into mine heatedly. “So stop acting like this, Claire. Damn it.”
“Then what are you going to do?” I asked as the song had stopped. A moment of silence ensued before a guitar had begun strumming. Once again, soothing music began playing and as I stared into Harry’s eyes, I could see my own reflection staring back at me.
And for a moment, he just looked over me with an expression I could not fathom. It wasn’t sentimental, yet it wasn’t hateful or angry. I couldn’t put my finger on it. But he said nothing. He only pulled me closer, pressing our mid-sections together, and my body involuntarily responded. I closed my eyes tightly as I felt him pressed against me, his firm chest meeting mine.
Damn it, body! Don’t betray me.
His lips pressed against my neck and he began kissing and sucking, almost like in a frenzy. I didn’t know where this sudden lustful move came from, but I did feel his desire. Of course, my body wanted to press more against his bulge, but I stopped myself, gritting my teeth. Harry’s hands were on my hips, over the shirt, touching my skin.
The music continued playing in the background. It really did help. But I didn’t want to help. I wanted to continue to defy Harry as much as I could. Sadly, I could feel my cheeks heating up. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and I wondered if he could hear it, too.
He pulled away for a moment to lift his shirt off of him, revealing his strong chest. My eyes couldn’t help but regard it appreciatively, noticing the slight curve of muscles under my gaze. Harry was starting to lift up his shirt off of me until I quickly grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
“Don’t.” I said quickly.
For some strange reason, he didn’t press on it. Instead, he began kissing at my collarbone. I bit down on my lip, trying to force all thoughts that succumbed to this, and forced myself to keep a completely blank mine. I ignored all the pleasure and focused entirely on sitting there like a wilted, unresponsive body.
“How far have you ever been?” He asked suddenly, his voice husky. He brought his head back to look at me.
It was then I noticed just how his hair truly did curl at the ends. They all framed his face. I wondered if he had to put any gel or anything to make the curls stay like that.
“Have you been farther than this?” He asked when I didn’t answer him.
I shook my head.
A smile laced his lips as he said cheekily, “You’d better hold on tight.”
What the hell did he mean by that?
He pulled away to knee beside the bed, pulling my legs away from him for a moment. I immediately closed my legs at that, but his hands firmly gripped my knees and forced them apart in a smooth way. Even though I was clothed down there, I had a feeling what he wanted.
“You said you weren’t going to rape me.” I protested weakly, feeling my legs trembling. Damn it. Okay, so my body was a little turned on right now. But it wasn’t my fault. Harrywas, in a matter of fact, very fit in ways a girl could definitely appreciate. And this music in the background sure added—
I let out a surprised yelp—degrading my pride a bit—when Harry suddenly yanked down the sweats covering my leg. When he saw that I was wearing his boxers, an almost amused smirk spreaded across his lips. I immediately went to kick my legs but Harry used his arms to stop all movement. He began pulling down the boxers I wore, and my cheeks flushed even more. Even though he’s seen me naked down there before, it felt a bit more uncomfortable this time because of his close proximity.
“Stop,” I said feebly.
“We both know I’m not going to do that.” He replied simply as he tugged the discarded clothing off of my legs. Embarrassed, I couldn’t look him in the eyes as he looked down at the area between my legs.
“Harry—”
I broke off in a choked noise when Harry lowered his head. When his lips met my sex, my mouth fell open, and my entire body went completely stiff as he began working his mouth.
Sweet mother of god..
Pleasure immediately swarmed with in me as Harry began licking and napping at my feminine folds. My breathing picked up in only a few seconds upon contact, and the pleasure I felt completely overwhelmed me.
I began moving my legs and he stopped abruptly.
He pulled away for a moment—did I want him to stop—and he locked my legs around his head. He seemed concentrated on what he was doing, and he didn’t even look at me as he lowered his head again. Just the sight of his brown curly hair in between my legs made me want to let out a moan. But I held it in.
I was not expecting this. I’ve never felt this much pleasure before. It was so overwhelming.
Without my consent, my hips bucked a little towards him, wanting more. I felt him chuckle against my southern region, and I shivered a little from the vibration.
“You like this.” He stated smugly.
I didn’t reply. I only waited for him to continue. Did I want him to continue?
Oh god yes.
He brought up his hand to help him out, his lips moving expertly against my sensitive skin. I knew how wet I was at the moment, so when he slid a finger inside of me, it didn’t hurt. In fact, it…
…it felt good.
When his finger began rubbing my clit, I let out a shuddering moan. I knew he was smirking upon hearing that, but I didn’t care. This felt so damn good! This had to be unreal. I had to be dreaming.
Right now, I was practically panting. And like Harry said earlier, I held on tightly to the blankets on the bed, fisting them, and clung to them like I needed something to brace on to.
My orgasm was close. I could feel the pressure building in my stomach.
Unable to control myself, I began saying, “Faster—ah. Faster, Harry. Please, don’t stop.”
He began moving faster against me. Now, it felt more like vibrations against me, mixed with his tongue and lips. I closed my eyes tightly as I gave in to the feeling of ecstasy, and I let out a quaking moan as my body released. Harry continued lapping at me as I rode out my orgasm. In the midst of this, my hands found a good chunk of his curly hair and I forced him closely to me. When I finished, I released him instantly, feeling suddenly verytired.
The music was still playing in the background. This time, the piano was the dominant instrument being played.
Harry rose up, and I could still see the obvious bulge in his pants. However, my body lay back on the bed, and I was trying to regain my breath.
I felt like I had just left this planet. And I was back again.
I hoped he wouldn’t say something like, “Oh you’re going to return the favor.” I had literally lost all energy. So I felt a huge wave of relief when Harry left the room, probably to finish himself off.
I lay there for a good half an hour, just staring up at the ceiling. Did that really happen?
Did Harry just make me have an orgasm?
And more importantly: Did I like it.
The music from the stereo kept my nerves calm. Eventually I got off the bed and put his boxers back on, along with the sweatpants. I didn’t know what Harry was doing, but I was going to leave this room. I paused by the stereo, turning off the music. I unplugged it really quick and made my way out into the hallway. All the lights that I had turned on this morning were off again. Pursing my lip, I stopped at each one of them and turned them on. Take that, Harry.
However, just as I was about to reach the bottom floor, I could hear Harry almost yelling.
“Stop calling, damn it!” His voice carried over to me. I heard him pause. “No. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck. If you call this phone one more time—”
I ran into the room. There were two choices to who could be calling nonstop—either Fran or Kim.
I headed right into the kitchen, where Harry was leaning back into the counter—with his shirt back on—and took the phone right out of his hands. He obviously didn’t know I was there, because his eyes widened a little from my sudden appearance.
“What the hell are you doing to her, you bastard?” I could hear Fran’s voice through the speaker.
I turned my back on Harry and said quickly, “Hey, it’s me. I’m right here.”
“Claire! Thank God it’s you!” Fran exclaimed, sounding overjoyed. She then sprouted off thousands of questions, without a chance for me to even reply. “Are you okay? Has he hurt you? What happened? Where are you? What’s going on? Why haven’t you been answering my calls?”
I glanced back at Harry, who was only rubbing his temples in irritation, and walked out of the kitchen. There was a fire alive in the fire place, so I took a seat at the couch and felt the radiating warmth coming from the fire. It felt good.
“I’m fine,” I told her quietly. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Are you insane? How could I not worry about you? Where the hell have you been? I came by your apartment yesterday to find your door unlocked, and the place looked like it had been attacked by a tornado!” Fran sounded like she was beginning to panic. “What the hell did he do to you?”
I remembered why it was such a mess. I had forgotten how destroyed it was. I hesitated before saying, “He hit me.”
She was silent for a moment. “That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“He didn’t rape you?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Claire, you can tell me if he raped you.”
“No. He didn’t rape me. I swear.”
I could sense her confusion. “But I don’t understand! What the hell has he done to you?”
The memory of him shoving his fingers inside of me flashed in my mind, but for some reason, I didn’t tell Fran that. Instead, I said, “All he did was backhand me.” For some reason I didn’t tell her how I was held hostage at that club. Or about the guy breaking in and almost killing me. I supposed it would take a few minutes to tell her that, and now Harry was standing in front of me, listening to every word I said to Fran.
“Look, I have to go.” I told Fran, feeling a bit guilty. She had been worrying about me all day. “But I’m fine. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Claire, you—”
I hung up on her and set my phone down in my lap.
“Let me see your phone.” Harry said.
“Why?”
“So I can call Louis. I left my phone upstairs.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”
Harry’s jaw clenched. “So I can tell him to have Eleanor get us some groceries.”
I stood up from the couch. “Why don’t we just go?”
Harry’s face looked confused for a moment. “What?”
“I’d do by myself, but you probably wouldn’t let me go.” I told him, walking past him to look for a piece of paper. When I found none, I went back to pick up my phone, opening the “notes” tab to write down a list of groceries.
“I’m not going grocery shopping.” Harry said, throwing away the idea like it was ridiculous.
“It wouldn’t kill you to get your own groceries.” I shot back, writing down some of the things he was missing, like flour and butter. I racked my brain for things he would need in order to make certain things—like cookies. Cookies were a necessity.
Harry took a seat next to me and watched me type out the list. It grew very long, to where I had to scroll down to look it over when I was finished.
“That’s a lot.” He observed bluntly.
I glanced at him. “Can you afford it?”
Harry shot me a silencing glare. “Of course I can afford it.”
“Good.” I stood up, heading to the front door. “Let’s go then.”
“Wait.” Harry caught my wrist. “We have to go to the garage.”
I followed right behind him as he led me to the right, down a narrow hallway. This led to his garage, and when he turned on the lights, I saw that the garage was just as empty as the house. Dust was all over the floor, and I saw some cobwebs on the ceiling. There was a lone car waiting for us, and Harry told me to wait there as he hurried back inside to find the keys.
It actually took him a few minutes to find them. He unlocked the door and I got in, waiting for him to get in, too. The car smelled brand new, but there was a feeling that it wasn’t used often. The seats looked untouched. Everything was so immaculately clean.
Harry pressed a button that hung over the review mirror and the garage door opened slowly. He looked over his shoulder to back out. We were in the back of his mansion, and I looked out over the field of lush green grass. I saw the time on the clock and was surprised to see it was already 3 in the afternoon. It felt like I had just woke up 20 minutes ago.
He began driving in silence, and when we reached the road, he went a bit too hard on the breaks. I jutted forward a bit, shooting a confused look in his direction. He was too busy focusing a whole lot on the road, his entire body leaning forward.
“Harry?”
“Hm.”
“Do you have a driving license?”
“Yeah.”
“Where is it?”
“In the glove box.” He pressed down on the gas pedal a little too hard and we sprung forward, nearly hitting a car coming in the opposite direction. Harry swore at the driver, mumbling about how horrible drivers were, and centered in the lane.
I immediately went into the glove box to find a lone license. It was his. I looked for the date and found it was two years expired.
Harry looked a bit younger in the picture. I paused, looking over his serious face to see he did look two years younger. I wondered if he was the leader of the gang back then, as he was now.
“Harry!” I exclaimed when he almost turned a sharp left at a red light. He slammed on the breaks just as a car sped past us, letting out a honk. “You can’t just turn left at a red light. You have to make sure it’s clear.”
“I know how to drive.” He snapped quickly. I stared at him in surprise. Harry Styles was aterrible driver. Right now my hands were clenched onto the edge of the seat, and I felt like I was so much closer to death sitting here.
“When was the last time you actually drove?”
Harry ignored me and sent the car forward with a jump when the green arrow came up. He slammed on his breaks a little, and the car behind us almost rear-ended us, if not for the driver’s vigilant observations. My eyes were wide open, and I eyed Harry in horror.
“Harry.”
“What?”
“Pull over.”
He shot me a glare, looking immediately defensive. “Why?”
“Because you’re going to get us killed!”
He contemplated this for a few seconds. At first, he ignored my request. But when we almost hit a person in front of us, Harry reluctantly pulled over and got out of his seat. I climbed over the mid-console and strapped my seat belt, adjusting the seat so I could see properly. Harry didn’t look pleased to sit on the passenger side, and he glared at the window.
Honestly, I couldn’t help but feel a bit amused by this. Harry, a notorious gang leader, didn’t know how to drive a car. Well, it was obvious he was once able to drive. But since he didn’t drive for 2 years, he was really rusty.
“Hey Harry?”
“What?” He snapped.
I cringed a little from his irritated tone and turned on my blinker to get back onto the road. I felt a whole lot better now that I was driving.
“When driving through fog, what should you use?”
Harry turned to glare at me. “Don’t patronize me.”
I grinned weakly and said, “Your steering wheel.”
Yeah. This was me. Ever since I was in high school, I’d always try to cheer my friends up by telling lame jokes. Even though I wouldn’t consider Harry as a “friend” I tried using that old trick. Usually my friends would have to break at one point. Harry had to, too.
He didn’t really get that joke. He only continued to glare ahead. When someone cut me off, his jaw clenched and he didn’t hesitate to flick them off.
I decided to try again.
“Who has the right of way when four cars approach a four-way stop at the same time?”
Harry turned to give me a look that said please-just-stop.
“The pickup truck with the gun rack and the bumper sticker saying Guns don’t kill people. I do.”
He got the joke, but he only turned to look out the window. My smile vanished and I tried to think of another joke. However, I was surprised when Harry decided to give it a try.
“What has two legs and bleeds?” He asked.
“I don’t know.” I replied, putting on an encouraging smile.
“Half a dog.”
Shit.
“What’s better than winning Gold in the special Olympics?” Harry asked before I could speak.
“Er, not losing?” I said quietly, a little afraid to hear the answer.
“Not being disabled.”
“Harry!” I exclaimed, my mouth falling open.
“Why did the little boy drop his ice cream?”
“I…don’t know.”
“He got hit by a bus.”
I opened my mouth to say something but Harry cut me off. “Where did Sally go after the bomb exploded?”
I didn’t even answer.
“Everywhere.”
“Harry,” I said slowly, “do you honestly find those funny”?”
I could see Harry’s face. He wasn’t grinning or laughing. He had a solemn expression.
“Everyone has their own sense of humor.” Harry told me. “See why I don’t tell you my jokes? You don’t appreciate them.” With a steely glare, he said, “So stop trying to tell me your jokes. I find them stupid and pointless.”
I turned back to the road, my chest twisting in hurt. Couldn’t he have just asked me to stop? Would that have been too much to ask for?
I shouldn’t be surprised. Harry was a heartless bastard. Right?
I said nothing for the rest of the ride. When I found a grocery store, I quickly got out as quickly as I could, not even looking at Harry. For some reason, his little comment really stung me.
Why?
Because I was only trying to cheer him up. And that was my way of trying to cheer people up. Excuse me if my jokes aren’t funny to you. I know those were lame jokes. But did he have to be so harsh about it?
I walked into the store without even waiting for Harry. I had just grabbed a cart when I felt him following right behind me.
“What do we need first?” Harry asked, not seeming happy to be here.
“Look for yourself.” I snapped, thrusting my phone out at him. Harry looked genuinely surprised by my angry tone, and I began walking away as soon as I gave him my phone. I found the vegetable part of the store and began picking out tomatoes, potatoes, cucumbers, etc. I stuffed them in the plastic bags they gave me roughly, hating how Harry stood by the cart, watching my every move. For some reason, this pissed me off even more.
I moved the cart to pick up a loaf of bread. I continued to ignore Harry completely, not even looking at him. After awhile, Harry stepped in and began picking out things that belonged on the list as well.
He sure looked out of place. The people who passed us grew instantly silent. I heard them whispering to each other, wondering why Harry Styles was here—in a grocery store. And then they saw me, carefully picking out ingredients.
Eventually, as I was carrying two gallons of milk, Harry took them out of my hands and carried them for me. Under his breath, he asked, “Are you mad at me?”
I ignored him, going down another aisle to find some seasonings. I felt Harry following right behind me. When I felt his arms wrap around my waist, my body jumped, and I whirled around. My teeth clenched, I brought back my hand and slapped him right in the face.
The SLAP rang throughout the whole store. I knew people saw me slap Harry Styles. People literally scrambled away, dropping some of their products to get the hell out of there. And when Harry’s eyes narrowed dangerously from the impact, I instantly regretted hitting him.
“Claire,” He said slowly, “just because we’re in public doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”
I didn’t know what to say. He looked so pissed. So I quickly went back to picking out groceries, praying he wouldn’t do anything as soon as we were alone.
I was genuinely surprised that he didn’t hit me right then and there. I really was. I was expecting him to snap, lose his cool, and start beating the shit out of me. But he only followed closely behind me, keeping a cool distance, his eyes never leaving me. And soon, he didn’t look as angry. I guess his anger was slowly diminishing.
I got into the line for check out. The cart was filled to the top. Harry reached into his pocket to retrieve a wallet, producing wads of folded cash.
It took us a few minutes to get everything paid for. The guy working for us was only a teenage boy, and he was visibly shaking from Harry’s mere presence. I couldn’t really blame him. Harry was watching every move the boy made with close eyes, just waiting for him to slip up so he would snap at him.
However, just as we walked out of the store, I inhaled sharply when Harry suddenly grabbed me and had me pinned against the wall.
“Look,” He said, his eyebrows scrunched in thought, “your jokes aren’t stupid and pointless, alright? I…just said that without thinking.” He moved away, suddenly uncomfortable, and mumbled, “Claire, sometimes, you have to ignore insults people throw at you. Most of the time, they aren’t personal.”
Whoa. Was Harry, in a very subtle way, apologizing to me?
“And if you let them know they got to you,” He continued very seriously, “then it’ll only show that you let them have power over you.”
“Okay.” I mumbled, still very surprised he was telling me this. With that said, Harry stepped back and I continued pushing the cat back to the car. Harry even helped me unloading. He made sure to get the heavy things, such as the milk and some meats. When I had loaded the last bag, he pushed the cart away carelessly.
“Harry!” I chastised, chasing after the cart. Harry rolled his eyes at me as I pushed it back to the gates, where the carts were supposed to go.
“You didn’t have to do that.” He told me matter of factly as we got back into the car.
“That cart could hit someone’s car.”
“Who the hell cares?”
“How would you like it if someone hit your car with their cart?” I retaliated, turning the keys in the ignition.
He didn’t reply to that.
The ride was silent as we drove. Harry watched me drive from the corner of his eye, probably trying to gauge some memory by watching me do it. The silence honestly wasn’t uncomfortable, really. It was kind of…relaxed.
Our silence was interrupted, however, when a bullet had hit us from behind, shattering the glass. I barely had time to scream before more pullets followed.
In just a few moments, we were being bombarded with bullets from behind.

Notes

Now this was a LONG chapter. You're welcome :P Haha! What did ya'll think? Do you think Harry's past has formed him into this heartless person?

Do you think he's "softening" up to Claire?

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