-Miranda's POV-
I woke up to feel the place where Harry sleeps next to me, to find it empty. Only to have a handful of white silky sheets. I patted around to double check but there was no one there. I got up and and went to the living room to find only Zayn there with a cup full of hot tea in his hands.
"Morning." I yawned to Zayn throwing my hands up in the air to stretch them out. I made a screeching sound almost like a baby dinosaur, as I would think of it.
His head snapped back to find me, as he started to laugh at my motion and weird sounds that I was making. "Where's Harry?" I asked.
"Out, he had things to handle. He should be back in an hour or two."
I nodded and walked over to the couch taking a seat next to Zayn. "What's up with Perrie?"
"I don't know. She hasn't been answering any of my calls or texts. I'm getting worried." He said his voice deprived
I could understand his worry. I know what it feels like to feel ignored by the ones you love the most. It hurts, hurts real bad. In fact I'm going through the same thing right now with Harry, having him shut me out. Not telling me the truth but making up excuses for why he can't. I don't like lying, and I don't like the way Harry has been treating me either.
"I'm sure it's nothing." I reassured him.
I felt my empty pockets for my phone but realized that Harry had taken it from me last night and I probably wasn't gonna get it back anytime soon. "Let's hope so."
"I'll be down stairs, if you'd like to join me." I told him. I waited a second to see if he would follow but he didn't just sat there on the couch thinking. I walked down the hallway and opened the door to the basement turning on the light at the top of the stairs. I walked downstairs listening to the creaking of the old wooden steps that were probably out of code.
The paints were left in the same place as where I had left then, not that I had expected it to be any different. I felt alone and cold down here. Not for the reason that there was no heat down here but mostly cause I was alone. I was so use to having Harry around lately and now he's not even here. I was worried more than worried actually. I wanted to make sure he was okay, wanted to make sure nothing had changed between the two of us. Is there anything between us? In fact to think about it, if it wasn't for Harry kidnapping me that night we might not be in the positions we are now.
And I wouldn't change a thing. Nothing, not from the fights we had to the bed we share. Everything could be perfect if it wasn't that he always keeps me from everything. Secrets, just so many secrets that I just can't handle anymore.
I grabbed a paint brush and walked over to the empty space. My brush slid across the wall. I dipped my paintbrush into the brown paint making swirls up high with a hint of black to show the shading.
-Harry's POV-
No matter what I do, it all comes back to Miranda. I didn't want it to be like this. Just how things work out with my fucked up family. Half of my family is dead and the other half is on the run and hiding from me, or fucking with my current life. I just wanted things to be normal. So that's why I'm out here, in the real world and not cooped up in Zayn's two bedroom house.
There was a good possibility that I could get spotted, but I didn't care. If it meant protecting my girlfriend scratch that. If that meant protecting Miranda than so be it. I had to talk to someone who just might know the location of the calls. Because- lord help me if I'm right but if these calls are from who I think they're from than I'm screwed.
The dirt-bag calls whatever person is still willing to talk to you and gives the signal that if I don't join there so called group, there will be consequences and most of them leading me to burring Miranda six feet under. The group is known around London, a local drug cartel. If you want something, they have it. But if you forget to pay them back on a loan for their drugs. Well you get a beaten and they will find a way to slowly torture you.
I don't know how he knows me but there's only one person who I think this all leads too. Michael, that son of a bitch. Screwing with my life even when he's not in my life. Once I get my hands on him, I'll be burring him six feet under instead of Miranda. The ass hole deserves it. Even though it may be my fault as in why my parents kicked him out of the house.
-Flashback-
"Harry!" My mother called me from downstairs while I was doing my homework that Mrs.Johnson had assigned us to do that night. I didn't like her much she was always talking about how we should be discipline more as children, that way we will be whipped into shape when we are adults. I don't know what peed in her cornflakes but whatever it was it made her hate kids.
I stopped what I was doing, dropping my pencil on the ground as I walked out of my room. Once I had made my way down the staircase holding on to the wooden railing. My mother was standing in the kitchen tapping her foot, next to her stood my father and they both had a worried yet, mad look on their face.
"Yes mum?" I asked.
She held up a bag with a bunch of pills in it that all looked prescribed. I knew exactly where they came from, but I had made a promise to Michael that I wouldn't say a word to mum or dad.
"Who's are these?"
I shrugged my shoulders ignoring the question I obviously had an answer too. "Are they Gemma's?"
I shook my head no looking at the ground. My curly hair getting in my way so I couldn't see much of the tiled floor in the kitchen but only the laces of my new sneakers I had gotten for my birthday just a few week ago from my aunt.
"Are they Michael's?"
I shook my head to the answer that would either make or break my relationship with him.
"Are they yours?"
I shook my head no again. Of course I didn't want to be blamed for my brothers action but I didn't want to ruin what could be a natural friendship between the two of us and if I did answer correctly he would never speak to me again, let alone look at me.
"Well they have to be someone's Harold." My fathers voice rang through my head. He only used the name Harold when both him and my mother mean business. I shrugged my shoulders once again.
"Until you want to tell us who's they are. You're grounded."
-Flashback Over-
-Later on-
I walked through the front door of Zayn's house to find Zayn exactly where I had left him on the couch in front of a T.V screen watching a match of football. "What he say?" Zayn asked referring to what I had found on where the call was coming from.
"Burn phone, all multiple locations, no pattern."
"Dead end?"
"Looks like it," I sighed running my hands through my knotted curly hair. "Where's Miranda?" I asked looking around the living
room and peaking into the kitchen to find her no where in sight.
"Down stairs painting, she has been all day."
I nodded and walked down the hall opening the basement door. My boots clonked against the wooden steps making loud noises. I looked around to find Miranda on the ground sleeping with a paint brush in her hand. She must be tired out. As well as I am. It's almost ten and I haven't slept in what seems like ages.
I picked her up moving the brush out of her hands and picked her up in my arms. I was about to lift her upstairs and shit off the lights when I noticed her recent painting. It was a portrait of me, a well drawn one as well with what looks like- wings? Angel wings. I was astonished by the well detailed painting of me but more surprised by the wings that outlined me. I smiled and walked upstairs with her in my arms, shutting the door and the lights off as well.
I brought her into our shared bedroom and laid her on the bed. I stood there looking at her before I started stripping, just thinking about the two of us. If she's already to far in this why not add more for a purpose of why she's here. I keep talking about it, or thinking about it but never actually commit to my words. I mean she's the only girl in my life right now that I deeply care about.
She's the beauty in everyone and sometimes it kind of sickens me. "Miranda?" I whispered shaking her sleepless body lightly. She moaned and groaned and tolled over so she was now facing me.
"Hmmm?"
"Will you be my girlfriend?" I asked bluntly.
She rubbed her eyes and starred at me with confinement. "Are you high?" She asked, I giggled and shook my head no.
"How about you sleep on it, and we can talk about this in the morning?" She suggested. I was considering her suggestion but I needed to know now if I had a future with her here or not, or if I'm wasting my time.
"No, but will you be my girlfriend?"
"Of course." She smiled and then yawned.
I bent down and kissed her on the lips lightly.
"Night Harry."
"Night Miranda."
A|N: SOOOOOOOOOOO Sorry for the wait on this chapter but hey! They're finally together!
Question of the chapter; Will you read a Louis Story that I will write in the future here's the description: The unlikely love story of an overworked soccer player and an underpaid marine biologist. When caught in a winter storm on Christmas Eve, and sharing the last hotel room seen for miles. Things take an unexpected turn that no one ever saw coming.
and what did you think about the will you be my girlfriend scene?
Please if you will;
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Thank you and goodnight!
