His Good Girl (h.s.)

one

I'm surprised the fire department hasn't shown up because I can barely see through this damn smoke. Thanks to the rain, everyone migrated indoors but refused to put out their lights. Damn business people and their damn cigarettes. I carefully weave through the drunk ladies and gents to the couch across the large living room. It's pushing one in the morning and I think more people have actually arrived than left.

My parents always drag me along to their business parties and I dread every minute of them. There is no one my age or even close to my age. Everyone is a good ten years older than me and business is the only thing anyone ever talks about. I finally make it to the couch and let myself sink into the plush cushions. I lay my head against the arm of the couch and try to drift off into sleep until I feel someone take a seat beside me.

"I don't know about you, but it is way past my bedtime." The man says next to me. I turn my head and am met with a pair of captivating green eyes. He runs a hand through his dark brown hair that falls gracefully around his matured face and my eyes catch his tongue run across his pink lips.

The silence has gone on for too long and I quickly bring my focus from his tanned chest peeking through his unbuttoned black shirt to his gaze that has not left me. "Oh, um, yeah it is pretty late huh?" I tuck my dark hair behind my ear out of nervousness and fold my hands in my lap, suddenly becoming very interested in my dress.

"That's a lovely charm bracelet you've got there." His hands reach for my wrist in my lap, his knuckles brushing against my thigh.

"Thank you. It was a gift from my grandmother." His massive hands make mine look even smaller.

I sit quietly as he fiddles with my bracelet, "You're a quiet one, huh?" he looks up at me with a smirk that displays his dimples. I don't know how to respond so I shrug.

"What's your name, darling?" my hand is still placed in his.

"Violet." I whisper.

"Beautiful name. It suits you." I blush at his words. "I'm Harry." And with that he stands from the couch, beckoning me from my seat. "C'mon, I don't bite."

He pulls me up and places his hand on the small of my back. My cheeks flush as he guides me through the crowd of drunk adults. I look around for my parents as we pass through clusters of loud drunks. I see my father with a lady who is definitely not my mother on his lap and my stomach drops. It's nothing really new, but it breaks my heart every time.

Harry ends up leading me out to the empty foyer far from everyone else. The ceiling is soaring, making my whisper sound like a shout.

"Why are we here?" I say towards the sky, admiring the beautiful stained glass art above.

"Because it's bloody loud out there." Harry closes the doors leading to the other rooms. "And I want to talk."

My brow furrows in confusion. "It was fine out there." I say walking back toward the door to the party.

"No. You're scared out there." he puts his hand on the door, preventing me from leaving.

"I'm scared in here."

"You're nervous. Not scared."

"You don't know that."

"If you were scared, why'd you come with me?"

I mentally curse him for his inquiry, but I like that he noticed. I lean against the wall and slide down to the cold marble floor.

"I'm sorry about your parents." The last thing I would expect comes out of his mouth catching me completely off guard.