Azalea Faye Larau - The sweetheart socialite with a fire underneath and an up and coming ballet dancer in London striving to stay afloat in an ocean of sharks, all the while dealing with heartbreak and loss.
Harlan Emeric Marchetti - The Italian Maf...
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It was late when Harlan arrived and the night was quiet, the only sound being the ticking of the clock and the faint rustling of the wind outside the window while I still sat numb on the couch, not having any energy in me to do anything at all.
The door creaked open, and Harlan stepped inside, his tall frame casting a shadow across the dimly lit hallway as I heard his footsteps come close and he came into view, his eyes falling onto me.
His red eyes flickered with an intensity that always made my heart race, though whether from fear or something else, I wasn't sure.
"You're still awake." Harlan observed, his voice low as he stood there.
I didn't respond, my eyes fixed on the floor. I heard him move closer, his presence filling the room. When he sat down beside me, I felt the heat of his body and the close proximity making my pulse quicken.
"Did you eat?" He asked quietly when I shook my head slowly.
"What did you do today?" He asked and I could feel his gaze on my face but I only shrugged.
We stayed quiet for a while, neither of us speaking or doing anything but revelling in each other's silent company when he cleared his throat.
"He came today, didn't he?" Harlan spoke quietly, his voice deceptively calm as my heart skipped a beat.
I should have known Harlan would find out. He always knew everything. Still, there was no anger in his voice, only a quiet disappointment that sent a wave of guilt through me for some strange reason.
"Why?" He asked in a quiet voice and I gulped, closing my eyes as I opened my mouth to speak but then closed it right after.
"He still loves you, doesn't he?" Harlan spoke after a few deafening moments when my eyes flicked up to his, my silence a confirmation of his question when his jaw clenched.
"You let him in." He spoke bitterly, looking away.
"I knew he was coming," I spoke for the first time, my voice a little raspy as I cleared my throat, "We had agreed to meet."
"You had—" He paused, his eyes flashing with something dangerous, "You agreed to meet."
It sounded more like a statement than a question when I simply nodded and looked down at my lap.
"What did you say to him?" He asked after a while when I shrugged a shoulder.
"The usual lies I keep telling everyone— I love you, you love me, we care for each other, we're very happy together." I replied a bit sarcastically and saw his brows draw together when he took my hand.
