Endlessly // h.s.

XI

As Harry stared down at his beautiful angel, he could sense her discomfort.

She was toying with the sleeves of her old, worn long sleeve t-shirt and avoiding his gaze. He knew she didn't like to be around him, but that didn't change his need for her. Or her need for him, for that matter. She may hate him but she would always need him. But why did she hate him so much? They were dimidiums, soul mates. That had to mean something to her.

"Why do you like Niall so much better than me?" he asked coarsely. Admittedly, it sounded a bit desperate, but he didn't care. He just wanted Evie to love him, or at the very least like him.

She looked up at him a bit incredulously, and he was again struck by her gorgeous gray eyes that seemed to pierce into his very soul. "Niall's not the one who took me from my mother, the only family I have left. He's not the one who brought me to a different fucking country against my will." Her voice was edged harshly with a bitter tone that cut a little bit into Harry's heart with each word.

He covered his hurt up with anger, as he always did. "I'll never apologize for bringing you here, Genevieve. I need you, and you need me, so it's just what had to happen." He swallowed the lump in his throat back roughly before speaking again. "Now, do you want that shower or no?"

Evie grumbled under her breath unintelligibly.

"Speak up, love," Harry smirked at her.

"Yes, I would like to shower please," she said grumpily.

She kept avoiding his gaze, and all Harry wanted to do was just grab her and hold her close to him and never let her go. God, she didn't know the effect she had on him.

"You'll need some clothes to change into," he sighed as he looked over her ratty attire. Her shirt had small holes in it and her shorts were fraying at the ends, causing Harry to inwardly curse her mother for what seemed like the hundredth time. Not only did that bitch keep Evie from him for sixteen years, she kept his dimidium living in poverty. Evie deserved better than that. Evie deserved all the luxury in the world.

Evie miraculously didn't argue with him this time, just nodded her head obediently. If only she was like that all the time, Harry thought wistfully. Her stubbornness was definitely something that needed to be eradicated.

He walked over the the armoire and pulled out one of his shirts and a pair of boxers for her to wear. It would have to do, for now.

"Jeffrey hasn't had the time to conjure you up a new wardrobe, so you're going to have to wear my clothes," he said as he handed them to her. "Sorry, angel." No I'm not, he thought wickedly. Having her wear his clothes was just more proof that she was utterly his.

As she took the clothes from him, their fingers brushed for the briefest of seconds and it felt like heaven. Evie must have felt it too, because she pulled her hand away quickly and looked away awkwardly.

Evie cleared her throat sweetly. "Is this your room?" she asked, making eye contact with him for the first time in minutes.

"Yes it is, little one," he smiled. "Yours, too."

Her eyebrows furrowed indignantly, but Harry was not in the mood for one of her headstrong replies. He held out his arm and spoke before she had the chance to.

"Now, take my arm. You're still too weak to walk," he said shortly. The familiar warm feeling that he always got when they were touching spread through his body as she grasped his forearm.

Evie was still feeling a little frail, so she stumbled a bit, but Harry wasn't complaining as he held her up while they made their way across the room. Once they reached the door, he stopped and opened it for her, letting her go in first.

"Towels are over there, and shampoo, conditioner, and body wash are in the shower," he said, giving her a mini tour of the room. Evie looked astounded by the opulence of the spacious bathroom, and Harry was confused at first before he remembered that it was probably the nicest washroom she had ever been in. Her timidity and curiosity as she looked around made her look like a child that was just discovering the world, and Harry was forced to remember how young she actually was.

Her 16 (almost 17) years were nothing compared to his 561 years on Earth. There was so much that she hadn't done, hadn't seen, so much of the world that Harry could show her. And once she truly accepted that she was his dimidium, that they were meant to be together forever, then he could show her everything. But until then, they would have to stay in the manor. Harry couldn't risk the chance of her trying to run away from him if they were to go out.

Evie cleared her throat awkwardly, and Harry realized that he had been staring at her for a solid few minutes, not saying anything. He shook himself out of his daze quickly, recognizing how creepy it had probably been for her.

"Right, um, when you finish, I'll be waiting for you in the room." Our room, he thought, but he didn't want to scare her off too much. As if his wings and his talk of soul mates hadn't already done that. "Don't be too long, little one." He sent her a smile and a wink, his confidence having been fully gained back, and strode out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Happy New Year! I hope 2016 is good to you 🎉🎉🎉