C'est Ma Bête {H.S}

01

"Can I take it to a morning
Where the fields are painted gold
And the trees are filled with memories
Of the feelings never told?"

Bloom- The Paper Kites

Colette

"AH!" Harry shouts, playing pretend as he swiftly jams the wooden sword in the empty space between my armpit and my torso, acting as if he has impaled me with it. His attack was believable. Shoving it at me with force but being gentle enough to make sure he did not seriously injure me in the process. Although he know I was tough and I would be able to take it all together. It was one of the reasons he liked me so much. I was not afraid. I liked to believe I was more brave than him. And at times I truly was.

I play along letting faux noises of agony and pain fall from my lips. It sounded real to me though to him it was just forced grunts and grumbles making him hold in a slight chuckle at my dramatics. My knees slammed into the grass beneath our feet pausing a second longer before plummeting down into my chest letting out one final sound of death in defeat.

I lay there still waiting for his next move, to see if he will continue the play any longer even. And as I expected, I come to feel his boot rest upon the small of my back still a little too gentle for my rousey liking. I do not like it when he is careful with me.

"Ah-Ha! I, Harry Edward Styles have finally slayed the beast!" He preaches confidently to thin air in victory. I squint my eye peering up at him as he takes in the stance of a king who has just won in battle. "La Bête? Ha, not so tough for a beast if you ask me." He gets cocky. I smirk underneath him mischievously thankful he doesn't notice the wheels spinning violently in my mind.

Before he can blink, I twist my arm to grab his foot placed on my back, flipping myself over and pushing his leg up watching him slip beneath himself, falling hard to my level his feet now by my head. I immediately let out a cackle at his blunder sitting up and throwing myself down again to be face to face with him.

He lets out a pained wince at the force of his fall, though I don't let my empathy take over my own sudden victory. I had most definitely knocked some air out of him. His brows furrowed, eyes pinned shut, the scar painted across his cheek down to underneath his chin stretching on his skin as his jaw dropped releasing a bit of a whimper, the dimples in his cheeks still prominent through his pain.

"You know I am tough, mon ami." I spoke a grin still displayed on my face. I rub his shoulder in comfort as my own apology. "Sometimes I do not understand why you still doubt me." I poke at him, my lips still curled in pride and happiness.

I feel even better when I begin to see a smile break out across his features as he laughs. It was a laugh in pain but a laugh all together. Triggering my own.

"I hate you Cole." He says with a smile.

I turn, laying on my back beside him with a sigh. "I know you do."

My eyes close due to the brightness of the summer sun in France, soaking it all in. Today was warmer than usual. The flowers brighter than they were yesterday. The air thicker. I could not wait to run in the fields outside. So I had attempted to immediately run to the Styles' apartments to find Harry and drag him outside with me. Mère had to stop me, catching me out of the air due to how fast I was running. She did not want me outside in my pajamas, but course all I did was pout and obey, too giddy and eager to wait.

I could feel Harry's eyes on me, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Cole, do you think we could actually catch La Bête of Gévaudan?" He asks, his voice laced in curiosity, making a lazy smile stretch on my lips. My head falls in his direction, my face squinting to hide from the bright rays above us.