Vigilante | H.S.

71 | Holmes

June 18

Diana De Angelais

Harry and I had been living out our own fantasy lives for just almost a month. A break we needed, even though we had the incident last week, when the car was attacked, we've had peace since then.

We stayed in that villa he had rented for the past few weeks, and spent every second together, whether we were doing absolutely nothing together, or trying to do one million things in a day.

One of the rooms had been temporarily converted into a studio for me to do paintings. I'd just been so happy the past few weeks that I finally found the motivation to start painting again, after not doing it for so long. Harry had gone out before I woke up one morning and bought loads of paints and canvases and brushes for me to use after I'd told him the night before I wanted to start painting again.

He surprised me with it in the morning, and he was jsut so fucking cute that I wanted to squeeze his face and kiss him a million times.

Living like that for the past month only made me want to stay there even more. I knew we couldn't, I knew it was impossible and it was only a dream, but I had never been happier in my life.

But I was a hundred percent sure Harry didn't want me to be able to use my legs ever again, because after the past few weeks, if he didn't stop fucking me into another dimension, then he was going to be taking me home in a wheelchair.

We were supposed to fly home to New York yesterday, but when we got on the private jet, Harry had gone to speak to the pilot and re-routed us.

So we made a pit stop in England before going back home.

He had taken me to his hometown; Holmes Chapel. It was a cute little town, and it was very homey. It was luckily a nice day today, not raining like I had thought it would be. We had walked about for a while, and he had given me a brief tour of where he had grown up, showing me some places he went as a kid.

It was strange for me to see, a place I had never been to before was so familiar to him. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, I could see that being back home was exciting for him. I caught the corners of his lips tugging up every so often when he was telling me a story, it made him happy to think back on the fun he had as a kid.

It was much colder here than it was back in France, I had on baggy jeans and a cardigan that had strawberries embroidered on it, that I now couldn't look at the same since Harry told me I tasted like strawberries.

Harry was wearing black jeans and a light purple knitted sweater. It was strange to see him in a sweater since he always wore his unbuttoned dress shirts. He looked so much less intimidating and so much more cuddly and soft. I knew I was crazy obsessed with him, but I just wanted to crawl inside the sweater with him and cuddle him forever.

"W. Mandevill, here we are" Harry had stopped walking, looking up to the building we were next to. I glanced up, feeling strangely excited knowing he had taken me to the bakery he used to work at. He squeezed his arm around my shoulders, opening the front door so the bell pinged. "It's always nice to pop in and say hello whenever I'm here"

The smell of freshly baked bread and pastries was just amazing, it was one of my favourite smells in the world.

"I do have to warn you though, the women, Linda and Mary, they can get quite excited, they might scream, and they'll probably ask you a million questions" he said to me, almost sounding embarrassed, "I've known them since I was like fifteen or sixteen, they can be quite a lot."

"That's cute" I teased, letting the smell of fresh bread and baked goods fill my nostrils. "You're cute"

It was so warm here compared to outside, there was one woman busy behind the counter with her back to us. She had short grey hair and an apron that I could see tied behind her back, packing pastries into paper bags.