Farfalla

14.

6:13 PM

"I like Niall better," I said while Harry cooked away in the kitchen. It smelt amazing, I wondered if there was anything Harry couldn't do up to this point.

"And I like it better when your mouth is closed." Harry fired back at me. I saw this coming and tried to not take the things he said to me to heart. I knew whatever I did got under his skin so I no longer walked on eggshells with him.

Niall had left a few days ago, something about securing other locations in case Florence became unsafe. That left the company of only Harry and I, which I wasn't fond of. It didn't matter how I approached a conversation, Harry would always shut me down or say something to degrade me. I figured through our interactions he used this as a defense mechanism. He didn't want me to know anything about him and in return, he had done a great job at it. I knew nothing about Harry except for the fact that he was a complete asshole and shoved every bit of his superiority in my face.

"Are you always an asshole?" I asked not caring what the repercussions were when I spoke freely to him. I had learned that I might as well ask him my honest questions since he got irritated with my ordinary questions.

"Are you always an irritating b***h?" He shoots a glare and speaks with a voice that was dark and raspy. I had gotten over his scare tactics, they were all overused and now I wasn't afraid of his threats.

"Only when you are an asshole which happens to be the majority of the time we are together so yeah I guess so." I knew I was being smart with him but he responded in this way all the time. I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine of sorts.

"Look Princess!" He slammed his cooking spoon down that he was using to stir with. "I already told you this before, I'm not here to be your friend! I'm only here for one purpose."

"And what is that? Because I'm pretty sure I was taken by a human trafficking mob two weeks ago!" Harry was going to tell me his sole purpose for being here was to protect me but, some part of me wanted to hurt him. I don't know when I had become this person; this person that intentionally wanted to hurt others.

I watched his expression change drastically from annoyed to full-blown rage. His eyes dilating while his hands bunched up into fists, I had hit a nerve. His body tensed making his muscles more defined then they were before. He came over to me, I stood up from the stool and faced him feeling a little more intimidated now from his closeness and body heat radiating off of him. Backing up against the nearest wall his body was only inches from mine.

"The only reason I'm here is because no one else was willing to save your ass, Princess. Everyone is out to get you! No one was willing to put their life out on the line for you! No one but me!"

My eyes sting with tears beginning to form. It wasn't because I was afraid of Harry; even though at this moment I was. The more I tried to hurt Harry the worse he hurt me, the fact that no one wanted the job Harry had acquired made me feel that much worse. No one was willing to put their own lives in the line for me but Harry and for that, I had to be grateful, surely without him I would have been dead on the plane.

"So next time you have something to say, think before you speak." He gave me a cold stone stare before walking back to tend to the dinner he was cooking.

I took in a shaky breath hoping that it would calm my buzzing nerves. I was driven by anger over the way Harry treated me. I watched him as he went back to cooking and tending to food that sat in the pot he was stirring. I stood still with my back up against the wall, I felt like an i***t. I had nothing to say and thought if I spoke or said I was sorry I would only anger him more. My voice would only provoke him further no matter what it was I said.

I shouldn't have said what I did. I felt sick now for even thinking that it was Harry's fault I was taken. I knew that it was the man who took me, it was his fault, not Harry's. Harry was here to keep me safe and every time we came in contact with danger he was always on the front lines. Harry knew he was running the risk of possible death but it was his job to protect me. I was told beforehand that Harry was the best at what he did and I believed them. Harry moved with precision and had no hesitation in anything he did, that's what made him the best.

His body was less tense now. His black t-shirt complimenting his biceps and covering a few of his tattoos. Everyone has stories to tell through their tattoos and from Harry's many images I wanted to know what stories were behind each one. What stories laid against Harry's skin in plain sight?

I needed to take a new approach with him. So far none of my strategies have worked. I had tried being thankful for everything he did and he only became annoyed with me every time I thanked him. I had been a b***h to some extent and again that was a bad idea because it got me to where I am now. What was next? What else could I try to get him to open up, or to at least talk to me?

I couldn't live the way we were right now anymore. I hated feeling angry and upset all the time. I didn't want to be raging all the time because I don't want to be Harry. I knew Harry ran off of anger and I didn't want to end up that way. The last thing I wanted to be was Harry.

My question was how he became the way he was. Was he naturally this way or was it something that developed over time? What could have happened that changed or morphed Harry to be the way he was? Maybe his tattoos explained the past and were the key to everything. Despite them being plainly visible their meanings were not so obvious.

Wiping away my tears that had fallen into my cheeks I stepped towards Harry. Feeling small in his presence he continued to stir the pot of soup, not even bothering to look over at me.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said. I know it wasn't your fault." I told him in a softer voice that was vulnerable. I wanted him to see that I was sorry and that despite my fighting words I knew he tries his best to keep me safe. I knew this wasn't an easy job since we didn't know who our enemies were. The whole world had become our enemy and Harry was appointed to protect me from that.

"Why do you always want to fight me?" He spoke in a raspy voice that I found highly attractive. He still didn't look over to me but kept a concentrated expression in the soup he was peppering with spices.

"I don't, all I want is to talk but every time I try to have a conversation with you it turns into a fight," I explained hoping that he would see that this wasn't all my fault. He was partly to blame just like me, we both were to blame from the tension created between the both of us.

"This is just a job to me Princess so I don't care to get to know you. I don't care if you want to get to know me."

His words promote tears to once again stream from my eyes. He only looked at me as his job and nothing more. I begged for some type of relationship but he didn't. He didn't want the same things I did. Deep down I wanted something with him, a relationship that was anything but what we had right now. Anything was better then the destructive relationship we had now.

"I just thought-" I started but was cut off when Harry interjected.

"Well, you thought wrong."

"That's my mistake then." Tears brimmed my eyes on the verge of falling as I turned away and headed toward the hallway where my room sat. I wanted to be alone, I couldn't handle being around Harry anymore. I needed a break away from him.

-June 01, 2016