Prince and the Pauper

Chapter Twenty

The car ride from the hospital to my scrummy apartment was both too long, and ended too quickly. The silence that hung between Harry and I was enough to make it feel like time was crawling by, especially since the electric current between us had always had us burning with passion, but the ride also didn't give me enough time to process what had happened, and what I was going to do now. I had sobbed relentlessly back in the hospital corridor whilst Harry and rocked me back and forth in his chest to try and soothe me, but when Nicki had handed me the poems I had written and hung up in my brothers room, I had gone silent. It made it seem too morbid, like Geordie had passed away, and I had to collect up and pack away his belongings. The thought made my heart shatter itself into a million pieces, and now I had no idea how to piece things back together. Geordie had been the glue  in my life, keeping me together, but now that he was gone there was nothing left to hold me together. I had Harry, but seeing his face was just a beautiful, yet painful reminder of what had just happened. What I had just lost.
"Devonne." My eyes flew open to see we were parked outside the alley to my apartment, and Harry was holding my door open. I drew in a sharp breath, trying to calm myself down.
"I can't do this." I whimpered pathetically, shaking my head. Harry's face softened with sympathy, and he crouched down, so he could be level with me still sitting in the car.
"I know you don't want to, and I know this is hard for you, but it's for the best, baby." His warm hand grabbed mine, and he slowly raised it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.
"Harry, I can't move in with you." I shook my head. "I...God this is a mess." My voice cracked for the umpteenth time.
"Yes you can. And you are. You said you wanted to save up money to buy a flat uptown. Well think how much quicker you'll save up if you're not squandering it on this dump that is quite frankly, a miracle it is still standing."  Harry argued, using his grip on my hand to entice me out of the car, and reluctantly I stood.
"But then I'd be relying solely on you." I huffed. 
"Isn't that what lovers do? Lean on each other when they're too weak to do it alone." Harry pulled me into his side, and led us through the alley.
"Yes, lean. Not carry them. If I move in, I am doing nothing for you, whilst you're doing everything for me." I protested, and Harry shook his head.
"Devonne, do you have any idea how much I care about you? Six days ago I met you for the first time, six days. In those six days we have argued, kissed, admitted we love each other, and spent the night together. I've never done that with anybody before. The longest relationship I've ever had was two months, and we only ever kissed. No emotions, no connection. We were only together because my father pushed on it for appearances sake."  He drew me into his arms, and pushed me gently up against the metal link fence in the alley. His eyes bored into mine, and he pressed his forehead against mine.
"When I am with you, I lose all logic. I can't think straight, and you are all I see. When you're gone, and I can think clearly, you're all that is consuming my thoughts. What you're doing, are you safe in this neighbourhood, does the distance drive you crazy like it does for me." My fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, and he stepped in closer, the fence biting into my skin, but I welcomed the cold touch, proving a relief to the heat spreading throughout my body from Harry's intimate stance.
"So what if it's moving too fast?  If I know one thing about you it's that you don't give a damn about what people think of you." I smiled at that, and Harry beamed up in triumph.
"I care what you think about me." I whispered, and Harry smirked, his hands closing around my hips, and he pulled my hips into his.
"That is a conversation for a private room." Harry winked, making me laugh lightly. "Now c'mon, let's get your things and get going." I unlocked the door we headed up the old stairs, creaking and groaning in protest with every step we climbed. The minute I practically barged the door open by ramming my shoulder into it, a heavy sigh left my lips.
"Well look on the bright side," Harry mused, sauntering into the small room, "it will be pretty easy to pack." I rolled my eyes, and grabbed a plastic bag from in the corner of the room. Harry grabbed my limited range of clothing, and helped shove them into the bags.
"How do you even make these last all week?" Harry asked, half jokingly, yet with an edge of genuine curiosity.
"Newsflash," I grumbled slightly, "some people actually wear the same clothes twice in a week. Or three, sometimes four." Harry looked startled, pausing his actions to look over at me.
"How do you clean your clothes?"
"In the sink. I hand wash them, then hang them out over the fence in the alley." Harry gave me a look like he hoped I was kidding, and I mimicked him, returning his stare.
"Don't people..." he treaded carefully, looking for the right words to say without offending me. I rested my hands on my hips, and Harry scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean, doesn't anything go missing? Like carried off in the wind? Perhapsbyathug." He gushed out the last part under his breath. Ordinarily I would have been pissed at that statement, but given the emotional ride I had gone on in the last hour, I let out a sarcastic laugh. It didn't sound amused, and Harry picked up on it. I shook my head, dropping the bag of clothes, and ran my fingers through my tangled hair.
"Ridiculous right?" I flashed an ironic smile, hard edged. "It's all ridiculous. This," I flicked my wrist between us, "is ridiculous. I am."  I collapsed against the back wall, and slid all the way down, burying my head into my knees.
'Hey, hey," Harry was by my side in a flash running his hands down my arms. "You are not ridiculous. The way you have survived all this time on your own amazes me. God knows I wouldn't have a clue how to hand wash my own clothes. I mean, bloody hell, I thought that was just a myth." He joked, and I smiled, genuinely this time, and licked my dry lips.
"I thought washing machines were just campfire tales." I tried calming myself down, and Harry grinned, dimples and all.
"Stop doubting our compatibility by comparing our financial situations." Harry reasoned softly. "When I was surrounded by woman like me I didn't care for any of them. And I see the way males around here look at you, Sebastian, those other waiters at the diner, and you felt nothing for them right?" I nodded, and he smirked, pulling me into his side. "Perfect lovers don't come from two perfect people, Angel. Perfect lovers  come from two imperfect people filling in each others flaws, and loving them despite it. Every puzzle is a mess until the pieces are put together correctly, and then they make something beautiful." Our fingers laced together, and I looked up at him.
"Your quite philosophical." I said dryly, and Harry playfully bumped our shoulders together.
"I like to think it comes from all the reading." Harry teased, and I laughed, leaning my head onto his shoulder. Harry was quick to press a kiss to the top of my head.
"Alright." I sighed heavily, rubbing my hands together. "Lets finish packing."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Devonne, what have we got here?" Bash asked playfully, racing up to me upon seeing the bags Harry and I were carrying. I was shocked to see him here and was about to ask him, when I looked over his shoulder into the Styles Hotel lobby, and saw his mother. She looked cosy with a smartly dressed man, and I assumed that was her new sugar-daddy husband Bash had told  me about.  Bash kindly took the bags from my hands, and raised his brows, expecting an explanation.  It had embarrassingly enough only taken five bags to carry all my clothing and essentials. The bed slash couch had been abandoned and Harry had made a remark about burning it. Basically my entire life could be carried into five small plastic bags, and it was a kick in the gut.
"I'm ah, I'm-"
"She's moving in. With me." Harry snapped coming to stand beside me, his sudden serious tone shocking myself, as well as Bash given the look on his face. I furrowed my brow at him in questioning, and Harry shrugged carelessly. I was about to ask him what the hell was wrong with him, when Bash beat me to it.
"Look, Mr Styles if this about the other night then I am sorry." The dots suddenly connected and I gave Harry a disbelieving glance.
"As long as we're being honest here, I am going to make it clear that there will be no more nights like that again. Understood?" Harry spoke sternly. The sharpness in his voice was so far from the Harry I had come to know and love, and it shocked me. I knew from that night Harry was a protective lover, but the jealousy was something quite childish, and I intended to diminish that factor immediately.
"Harry, that's not your choice to make." I argued.
"The hell it isn't." Harry growled, stepping in closer to Bash, who stood his ground. The two sized each other up and I watched on, horrified at how primal the two were being. Harry was easily taller than Bash, but Bash had stubbornness that made me look like a push-over. I tried tugging on Harry's arm, but he didn't budge. He just glared at Bash like he was dirt on his shoe, and it angered me, since everybody else in this area looked at me the very same way.
"Harry." I hissed, but he ignored me.
"She's not yours to control." Bash reasoned, and Harry let out a dark laugh.
"She's not yours to steal."
"Both of you, cut it out now!" I tried coming in between the two, but they glared on like I wasn't even present. Harry swiftly pulled me into his chest, burying my face into his chest, and I cussed in disgust.
"I know all about you Sebastian." Harry spoke so darkly it was the very first time I had seen how he could be related to Dante or Drake. I couldn't see Bash's reaction but he remained silent.
"Stay away from my girl, or I will ruin you. No matter what the cost." I gasped, and tried struggling out of his grip, but it was a futile effort. I was dwarfed compared to Harry. The top of my head was level with his beating heart.
"You don't have the sack for that." Bash spoke just as venomously, and Harry made a deep sound that sounded like he was daring Bash to make one more comment to give him cause to lash out. I knew if I tackled this heated moment with anger it would be the kerosene to the flame, so I tried a new approach.
"Please, babe." I whispered into his chest. Harry's eyes darted down to look at me, and they softened with guilt. His hand stroked my long hair, and he sighed wearily.
"I mean it," Harry spoke sternly to Bash, "stay away from Devonne." And then Harry had snatched the bags back from Bash, and ushered me towards the elevator. The minute the doors closed, I spun and smacked him in the chest.
"What the hell was that?" I shouted. Harry remained composed, and I made a sound of frustration. "Bash is my friend!"
"That cocky little bastard is not your friend." Harry shook his head. I ran my hands down my face, annoyed at how possessive he was being.
"How would you feel if I acted like that with Zaiden? I fought with him and told you that you couldn't be friends anymore? Huh?" The doors slid open, and Harry threw my bags onto the floor of his penthouse suite, and wrapped his arms around me.
"I didn't say he couldn't be your friend anymore. He never was one to begin with." I scoffed, and tried pulling away, but Harry wouldn't allow it.
"How could you say that?" I cried out.
"There is a bigger picture here, Devonne. Something you don't see, and I don't want you to. It's better for your sake if you remain clueless in this darlin'"
"Bull." I  clenched my jaw. "I deserve an explanation after that." Harry sighed, and glanced over at the wall-length window, taking in the beautiful sunset. An orange hue cast over his face as he faced the view, and I turned to see what he was so distracted by.
"It's nearly six. I'm going to make dinner. You've had a long day, you should go lie down." Harry curtly changed the subject, and I balled my fists as Harry strolled off into the kitchen.
"So that's it then? You're done talking so the conversation is over?" I asked incredulously.
"Yes." Harry said finitely. I felt like screaming, and I grabbed my bags of clothing, and stormed off into the bedroom. Collapsing onto the bed, I crossed my arms over my face and screamed into them, letting out my frustration. I had no idea what had just happened, and what had gotten into either Harry or Bash. I shook my head in disbelief, and curled up into a ball on the bed, ignoring the ache in my chest at feeling like in one day I had lost my brother, Bash, and Harry.