Prince and the Pauper

Chapter Nine

The sun was already hiding itself behind the buildings of Adlington behind us, leaving Wentworth  in dusk shadows as Harry drove over the towns center line. The minute the street lights flickered on and flashed on and off a few times before the oil burned in the lamps, leaving the dark streets in amber coloured flurecent lights, Harry pressed a button and a faint click sounded in the car. I exhaled loudly through my nose to voice my thoughts on his prejiduce actions.
"So what, we enter my neighbourhood and you instantly lock your doors like some criminal is going to press a gun to our heads, and steal your flash little Range Rover?"
"It's possible." He mused, looking at me cautiously, anticipating a punch in the shoulder.
"That's ridiculous." I scoffed. "Everybody in Wentworth recognizes their own kind. They'd point the gun at your head, not mine." I smirked up at him, and despite the potential for him to take offence, he coughed into his fist to hide his smile.
"To be fair," Harry gave me a pointed look, "Wentworth has a high crime rate."
"To be fair," I mimicked, "the worst crime we've had all year was done by your  brother." Harry's lips thinned into a line and I huffed, glaring out the tinted car window. Silence filled the interior of his flash car, his scent intoxicating and filling my senses. The strong smell of mint from his expensive cologne hit me the moment I had opened the door. It was as if a dark cloud had settled over the car now, and the minute the car neared the corner store where the accident had happened, Harry instinctively sped up, as if I hadn't recognized the street that had changed my entire life. My eyes followed to the dairy where it had all happened, and it felt like a hand squeezed at my heart, leaving me breathless. Closing my eyes to block out the memories, I balled my hands into fists as the screams of my brother filled my ears. I could still feel the physical blow to my gut I had felt when I saw the blood spilling from Geordie's head as he hit the floor. The sensation was like anticipating one extra step on a staircase. Only it didn't return to the ground. The memory was so powerful it felt like I was re-living it, and the emotions were over-whelming.

"Geordie!" I  screamed, the sound that escaped my throat was hysterical, and I fell to my knees beside him. "Geordie, oh God no. C'mon, open your eyes!" I pleaded, too scared to touch him. My hands shook as they hovered above his shoulders. I wanted to shake him until he woke up, but I was afraid the slightest touch would make things worse. The blood. So much blood, from my tiny brother .  Tears were rapidly pouring from my eyes, and I pressed my forehead to the cold ground and a strangled sob filled the air. "You monsters!" I shrieked, banging my fist on the ground, one, twice, three times, again and again until  my knuckles throbbed and slipped on the ground, showing I was bleeding. But that wasn't a patch on what blood was leaking from Geordie.
"This was all your fault." His demonic voice taunted from above me. "You're filth." He spat down at me, and then when the sound of wailing police sirens echoed around us, they dashed off, out the back door.
"Nononono." I chanted as Geordie paled before my very eyes.
"Mam, are you oka-" A deep mans voice trailed off as he entered the store. "Bloody hell." He breathed out, before pulling out a walkie-talkie and calling for an ambulance. Yes, it was a bloody hell. So much of it, and my innocent brother was lying in it. Pure white mixed with dark, sinister red. An angel with wings of shed blood.
"You're going to be okay." My voice cracked.
"Miss, medics are on there way. Can you tell me what happened?" The police officer placed a hand on my shoulder, and I glared up at him.
"That rich brat did this." I spat through gritted teeth. "Dante Styles." I hissed, shaking my head like a maniac.
"Styles?" The cop repeated, doubt tangling with his words. Another siren sounded, and a stretcher was raced into the room, the medics surrounding my brother, and one of them pulling me back, preventing my from following.
"Yes." I snarled, turning to the officer before me, "and I am going to make sure he pays for it."

"Devonne!" My eyelids flew open and I saw two frazzled looking eyes staring at me. I glanced around and saw we were parked on the curb on the street, and Harry had his hands on my shoulders, looking panicked.
"You were having some kind of panic attack, or a flashback, or-" Harry stammered, running a hand through his dishevelled curls. "Bloody hell you frightened me, Dev." I took a deep breath, and slowly placed my hand delicately on Harry's shoulder.
"I'm sorry." I whispered, looking down at my lap. It had all felt so real again. So painfully real. I rubbed my eyes to wipe away my tears and pulled my hands away only to see black smudged on the back of my hands from my eyeliner. I groaned and Harry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.
"What...what was that?" Harry asked softly, and I took a deep breath. "Do you have panic attacks often?"
"It wasn't a panic attack." I mumbled, wiping the coal black mess from my eyes. I knew I looked a wreck, but my heart was still hammering and my thoughts were so focussed on Geordie my messed up make-up was far from any concern.
"Sometimes I," I gulped in some air and grimaced. "It's like I have a flashback, only it feels more real." Harry grabbed my hand in his, engulfing it, and I continued, ignoring the rush of heat his simple touch provided me with.
"You know when you have a dream, and you only know it wasn't real when you wake up? The majority of the time in flashbacks you're aware you're just re-living it. You know it's already happened. When I have those...episodes I don't. I feel like I'm trapped in this personal hell every damn day." I bit my quivering lip.
"Maybe you could go to a counsellor-"
"No." I denied instantly. "They can't help me. Nobody can."
"You don't know that." Harry argued, and I glared at him. "Have you tried it? Don't knock it till you try it, love."
"I don't need to get stabbed to know I wouldn't like it." I sneered. "You wanna know the worst part about all of this?" I gestured his ruined handkerchief and my tears.
"What?" Harry whispered, his eyes soft.
"Every morning when I wake up, there's the brief, brief, moment when you forget it all. When you forget your life is ruined. But then..." I shook my head and my chest heaved with another breath I forced into my burning lungs. "Then you remember." A dark manic laugh rumbled out. "Oh you remember, and it's like hearing those words all over again." Harry's thumb reassuringly rubbed circles on my hand, the gesture oddly calming. "Every morning I wake up and relive that hell of the doctors telling me he was in a coma, and the chances are he won't ever wake up . Every.damn.morning." I braved a look at him, and he was staring at me with such intensity it was like he felt every emotion I was drowning in. I felt a strange sense of companionship in that stare, and the bad blood between our families seemed in disappear. In truth, it always did around Harry. The moment I met him I had felt like he was the polar opposite to his brother. Where Dante was ice, cold and unfeeling, Harry was hot, with warmth and passion behind every word he spoke. That heat was now simmering below me skin, my face heating up from his hand still gripping mine.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you." I muttered, shrugging my shoulders trying to reign back in any illusion of  in-difference to Harry I had fabricated.
"Don't apologize, Devonne." Harry smiled, his hand squeezing mine. "I wasn't frightened because I didn't know what to do in general. I was frightened because I didn't know what to do with you."  His touch suddenly become  scorching hot, and I knew my cheeks were burning red. I loathed myself for it, and yet I couldn't bring myself to pull my hand away from his.
"I still don't." He whispered. The hidden meaning behind his words struck me, and I was beyond stunned. I remained silent and pulled my hand from his grip. The faintest sigh emitted from his lips and then he was pulling away from the curb, driving down the run down street once again. No more words were exchanged between us in the car ride, and when Harry pulled up on the curb to my apartment, I removed my seat belt, and angled my body so I was facing him.
"Please don't think I'm crazy or deranged now." I pleaded him. "I know what happened back there was probably highly disconcerting but-"
"I don't think that at all, Devonne." Harry said honestly. "You went through something horrific, you still are, and you still get up out of bed every morning, even though you feel like there is no reason to. That makes you a fighter. Not crazy. Not even the slightest." His words hit home, and I smiled down at my lap, fiddling with my fingers. When I braved a look up at him I saw he was smiling at me, his lips tilting slighting higher on the right of his mouth, that damn endearing dimple peaking through. He was beyond handsome.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Harry he whispered, his eyes sparkling. I laughed as Harr placed a coin in my hand and curled my fingers around it. I considered admitting my thoughts, and the humiliation that would be sure to follow, so I settled for a compromise.
"You have a dimple." I admitted shyly.
"Good thing or a bad thing?" 
"Good." I smiled. He laughed lightly, the sound almost melody like. A melody I wanted to hear again and again, and I cursed myself for it. I wasn't supposed to like him, and yet I found myself so drawn to him. More frighteningly from the look upon his beautiful face, he was thinking something similar about me. The thought sent my nerves onto over-drive. Harry's  eyes were still latched onto my face, and I felt my blood vessels float to the surface of my skin under his assessing gaze.
"Penny for your thoughts?" I mimicked, offering the coin back towards him. His tongue slipped out and slid along his lip  before smiling again at me, his eyes practically glowing.
"You're beautiful." I blushed, and awkwardly stared out the window. I didn't know how to react, and focused all my attention on the streets out his car.
"Oh look, it's Lucifer."  I fake gasped.
"What?" Harry laughed, sounding amused and yet confused. "Don't change the topic."
"The stray cat." I explained, pointing to the black cat that sat perched on a trash can. "It belonged to the old landlord but when he moved it got left behind and-" the rest of the words caught in my throat as Harry's hand snaked out and gripped my chin in his long, lean fingers. The rings on is hands provided a relieving cold chill to my heated skin, and the moment our eyes connected I was rendered speechless.
"Other guys might let you run away from them, Devonne." He brushed a stray auburn lock from my face, his face leaning in closer. "But I'm not like other guys. I'm not letting you run." His words made my mouth open and freeze, as words failed to come. He flashed me a charming smile, and he used his spare hand to push my jaw back up, closing my mouth, and then his thumb brushed along my plump lips, as if trying to caress words out of me.
"Hmm?" He hummed. 
"I'm not running." I finally spoke, my voice soft.
"No?" Harry grinned, leaning in. I instinctively leaned back against the car door, and Harry chuckled.
"Maybe a brisk jog." I tried joking. Harry closed his eyes and laughed, his chest rumbling. To my relief and yet also my disappointment, Harry leaned back and climbed out of the car. He jogged around the sleek car and opened the door for me.
"M'lady."  Harry curtsied before reaching underneath me and hoisting me up effortlessly, cradling me against his chest for the second time today. Naturally my body leaned into his chest, his heart beating rhythmically through his chest. He spun to look for the door to the old black brick building, and paused, his brows knitting in puzzlement.
"Where on earth is the door?" Harry questioned. I pointed to a metal fence.
"Down that alley way." He looked down at me in horror, and I laughed at his assumption.
"I don't live in the alley, Harry!" I said. "The door is just located off the street." I shrugged, not understanding why he found the idea so peculiar. 
"I think you need to move sooner rather than later." Harry grumbled as he headed down the alley, his eyes scanning the alley. It was dark now that the sun had set, and only the faintest orange glow lit the alley. Metal trash cans lined the brick wall, and where the metal fence ended, the door stood. A meow sounded behind us and we saw Lucifer that cat had followed.
"Ugh, it follows me around." I groaned. "It noticed I often came home with left-overs from working at the dinner and expects home delivery nightly." Harry glanced back and forth between me and the cat. "It's a scavenger, a pain in the ass, and vicious when not fed. Hence me naming it Lucifer." I spoke, poking my tongue out at the mangy looking cat. 
 "So you live in a troubled neighbourhood, with a cat named after the anti-Christ, and off an alley-way?" Harry summed up, sounding horrified. His expression matched it. I meekly nodded and shrugged. I pulled the key from my pocket and opened the door, with the assistance of Harry kicking the bottom corner to force it open. His long legs easily carried us up the old stairs and once again I opened the door as Harry held me to his chest. Then Harry carried us inside, and his eyes were everywhere. The room was small, so it didn't take him long to get a gist of the whole  apartment. The bed was folded up into the couch, with clothes sprawled all over it and the floor. I was thankful the dishes were done, the confined kitchen area mostly clean, just a few stray mugs littering the wooden bench. The yellow walls had wallpaper peeling in places, and the curtains by the small round coffee table had mould in the corners. All in all, it probably looked like a scene from a horror film to Harry.
"Ah, home not-so-sweet home?" I perked up at Harry. It had been an attempt at a joke to lighten the mood, but Harry looked just about ready to pass out.
"This...is the whole apartment?" He spoke at last, and I nodded.
"Spare me the comments, please." I sighed. "It may not be Styles worthy, but it's more than what some others have. I am blessed to actually own a home. Did you know people who have a home, bed, food in the pantries and clothes on their back are in the top ten percentage of the wealthiest people in the world?" Harry smiled at that, and admiration filled his eyes.
"No I didn't know that." He spoke quietly.
"You can put me on the couch." I said lightly. He glanced at it and frowned.
"That's also your bed..." he trailed off when I groaned.
"Yes, and it works just fine." He gently placed me down on it, and looked at me carefully.
"Are you  going to be okay tonight? On your own?" Harry inquired. "Mother said to keep your foot rested and I don't know how you're going to get the bed and what not on your own."
"I can just sleep on it like this." I stated matter-of-factly. "I do a lot of the time anyway."
"Devonne, you can't just-I mean-this is a couch." He emphasised the word with much disdain.
"Yes, and over there, is a table." I used his same tone. "Now that we've stated the obvious, you leave. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" I asked.  His remained silent, observing me with a pained expression.
"When was the last time you slept in an actual bed, Dev?" Harry asked at last, his head tilting to the side. I wrinkled my nose  up at him.
"Does it matter?" I snarled.
"Yes. Answer my question." Harry snapped, his attitude suddenly very short.
"Why does it concern you?"
"Dammit Devonne!" Harry growled.
"I never have! Okay?" I yelled aggravated. "I've never owned or slept in a bed." I confessed, looking at my feet that were propped up on the couch. My ankle still looked swollen and purple and black bruising dotted around it.
"Never? "Harry choked, and I pathetically bopped my head.
"No."
"But your parents, I mean, surely before they up and left they would have made sure you had a bed?" He tried reasoning, but I shook my head.
"They had a bed, they only just managed to afford a single bed for Geordie. I was always contempt on the couch."
"You were  a kid then!" Harry sounded appalled. Angry even. That made two of us who held resentment for my pathetic excuse of parents then.
"So?" I scoffed. "Money doesn't have an age-limit before it gets tough on you." I folded my arms behind my head and lazily smiled up at him. "Some people are born into money, and some people are born into slums. Circle of life and all that jazz."
"I still can't believe they couldn't afford a bed for you." Harry shook his head. "When your parents were still around you were, what, thirteen?"
"Twelve."
"Twelve." Harry repeated. "If I had a twelve year old I would to my damned best to get her a bed. You know why? Because that's what parents do. Provide the needs for their children."
"It's not exactly news my parents missed parental class 101." I argued. "My mother loved the bottle, and my dad loved the pokies. There were more important things than saving up for a bed."
"That's disgusting." Harry snarled, and I laughed in bitter agreement.
"Tell me about it." I agreed, quirking a brow at him.
"I'm sorry." Harry suddenly said after a few beats of silence had passed.  I hadn't even known my eyes closed until I cracked my left one open at his speaking.
"What for?"
"For getting angry." He shrugged. "You're a good person, and you've been treated like dirt. I don't-I don't like seeing people I care about getting mistreated." I pursed my lips at his confession, and then offered an understanding smile.
"Don't worry about it. I quite like the idea of you getting angry at my parents. Now we have common ground." Harry laughed at that, and my eyes closed at the delightful sound.
"Tired?"
"mmm." I hummed. I heard shuffling and then the soft fabric of my blanket being draped over my body. I jerked slightly when I felt his warm lips press to my forehead. My heart beat faster as his lips lingered, ever-so-slightly, his warm breath caressing my face, before he withdrew. I forced my eyes to remained closed and to remain composed, even though my heart was battering in my chest. I heard the door creak open, and his soft voice before I was lulled into sleep and blissful dreams of a beautiful, green eyed man.
"See you tomorrow, Devonne."