Above Ground: A woman kept hidden, bred for perfection, everything she once was had been shattered and taken away from her.
Underground: A man a shell of his former self, a life of darkness shrouds him, his authority now mind-numbing.
A world that...
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"Why'd you agree to go to Blue Diamond?" Harry obnoxiously complained from under the duvet.
I was currently getting ready to go shopping with Lola in his bathroom. Last night, after our conversation, I had to keep moving to distract myself, unable to sit still and let my mind travel. Even now, my mind continually wandered back to those photographs.
Sick of always traveling between the two rooms, I brought most of my products into Harry's bathroom to keep my hands busy. It was comical witnessing all the products now stacked on his sink when before all it was his toothbrush and toothpaste.
Harry hadn't protested my flurry of activity in the middle of the night, just offering me one curious glance before returning to his work.
After the gun range, Niall had conspired for us to go to Blue Diamond, encouraging Louis to invite Lola as well. He had texted Harry late last night, advising him of the plan.
I had forced Harry to text Niall, asking if Lola could go shopping with me today, aware I had nothing to wear. I had also never been to a club, so her opinion was crucial. Plus, she seemed so sweet. Given that I was constantly surrounded by men, I was thrilled to be around some feminine energy.
Finishing up the final touches on my makeup, I exited the bathroom. Harry's head peeked from under the blankets at the sound of my appearance. I hovered over him, bending down to brush the curls out of his face.
I kissed his forehead tenderly, "Because I've never gone to a club before-" I paused for a moment, snickering, "And I'd only go if you're with me." I put on my best pout, blinking at him with wide eyes.
He rolled his eyes, groaning loudly, and I knew I had succeeded, beaming at his acceptance. Harry slid out of bed, picking up a pair of jeans that he had left strewn on the floor. I surveyed him, appreciating how he looked in just his joggers with no shirt. I gaped at him shamelessly, examining his tattoos, refusing to deviate.
Fishing through the pocket of his jeans, Harry retrieved his leather wallet. When he opened it, I caught a quick flash of the polaroid picture of us in the tree.
The butterflies smashed against my ribs, witnessing Harry doing something so precious in private.
He attempted to hand me a sleek black card, but I put my hand up to stop him.
Waving the card in irritation, he reasoned, "Use this if anyone asks you to pay."
"Please take my jewelry. I don't like you paying for everything, Harry."
Harry seized my wrist, shoving the card in my hand, "Oh, don't be coy. I like seeing you wearing whatever you got."
My nose scrunched in annoyance, but I relented. Not wanting to start an argument, I slid the card into my back pocket. The context behind Harry's demand wasn't lost on me, but it didn't make it any less bittersweet.
