One Sole Direction

7 - Every fucking door.

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass: there was nothing on it but a tiny golden key.

from Alice in Wonderland

Lewis Carroll

Cambridge, January 16th 1937

He didn't even had time to get up and grab his jacket, and already Harry had slipped out of the classroom.

Damn Styles, I've decided to do some chasing, and this time to reach him I had to be ready to run. 

And I hated running.

We were not yet able to exchange a few words after Dover.

He had slept in the car all the time and was not fully awake when I left him in Pembroke.

But we had to talk.

I did not want the night to Dover was let go to oblivion, I wanted to clarify the situation.

It was not like the night in the pub, the memory of which had been a burden to both for a long time.

I recognized his voice that I was almost on the porch where a few weeks I had clumsily tried to kiss him.

'Wait Peter, beat me will not make you become more intelligent.'

'First learn for you I'm Mr. Marquis, you little shit. .

Then, beat you plebeians is something I do just for fun. '

'How had to be miserable for you to think that you will never have my intelligence, because you can not buy it, nor inherit it.'

I saw the strong push of Cavendich and Harry slamming violently against the wall.

I felt the blood to the brain and the adrenaline filling my wrists and my hands.

I not even ran, walked back under the same porch, as a few weeks before, with the same enthusiasm, but with a different anger.

I was out of myself, again.

I saw myself and I listened but I was not myself.