lemon's curse h.s.

seven

unedited

emmalyn.

"What are you implying?" I'm quick to ask, not knowing what kind of trouble he's trying to stir up now.

Today was my first time ever even hanging out with Joshua; I don't even know the guy yet and Harry's already trying to manipulate the way I feel about him. It doesn't even make sense for Joshua to lie about his age. Why would he? What could you possibly gain from lying about something like that?

"That he's lying about his age?" Another question follows up, but Harry seems unfazed by my curiosity.

"What I'm implying, Emmalyn is that people are not always who they claim to be." He answers after a brief pause, his eyes staring back into mine for a moment when he says my name, like he wants to see the expression written on my face, like he wants to see the effects his words are having on me.

"Like you," the words leave my mouth without a second thought.

It's almost surreal that I'm diving into this conversation with him, especially when this is what I've been thinking about all day, about him and what he does in comparison to what he's appearing to do.

I don't regret what I just stated, in fact I'm a little proud of myself for speaking about what I believe is true. Though that doesn't mean I'm not a little scared too, about whether or not this may make him angry.

I seriously have no idea what boundaries this man has. He gets aggravated over the littlest of things and yet, the things you'd expect him to be furious over, he treats like a breeze. He'll threaten me over something as small as me rolling my eyes at him but won't say anything when I feel I'm sometimes downright rude and impolite towards him.

And me, I don't know if I'm that stupid or brave that I'm absolutely terrified of his man and his explosive, versatile behavior yet at the same time, I can't seem to keep my mouth shut whenever I'm around him. I speak my mind as the thoughts come to me, not even letting myself process them entirely before they're out in the open, free to be interpreted however he wants to do so.

Harry looks over to me again, one hand steady on the steering wheel while the other comes to settle on the arm rest between us, as if he's turning his stance towards me. A presumptuous sneer paints his face, one of his dimples becoming evident as he begins to grow apparently amused by what I just said.

"What are you implying?" he asks the same question, except in this case, he knows the answer.

"You know exactly what I'm implying," my tone comes off as playfully snappish, which he doesn't seem to be mind.

His eyes move back on the road, his arm still on the arm rest, "No darling, no clue," he speaks with obvious ingenuity. "Enlighten me."

Normally, I hate confrontational conversations like this but right now, with the mix of irritation, curiosity and frustration, I don't seem to mind.

"You're not just a 'government official'" I bring my hands up in the air, making quotation marks with my fingers.

I'm expecting him to say something, to react, to defend himself or offer me some form the truth. But only a silence follows us, during which my eyes remain on Harry. I'm not sure if I should just let this hang in the air for the rest of the car ride while we sit quietly or if I should say something more.

But when Harry briefly glances at me, I understand that he wants me to continue.

And so I do.

"You knew the police was coming that night and I know you knew why they were there" I begin, feeling almost relieved that I'm saying this all out loud.