Forbidden // h.s.

Ch. 8 Gone In The Wind

I stared at him. And his piercing eyes. And his sturdy chest. And his massive hands.

He watched me. And my doe eyes. And my shaking hands. And my teeth sinking into my bottom lip.

We both sat there. Me, waiting on him to say something. Say anything.

And he finally did.

"Nice place you got in here." He commented as he slowly analyzed my room, taking everything in, memorizing it, as if he plans to be here again. And again, again, again.

He nodded slowly as if answering to my observation of him.

"Who... Are you?" I dare to ask.

"Harry Styles." He says and leans closer. "But, you're not suposse to care enough to know that" He half-whispered.

Styles. Of course he's a Styles. I know from the moment I looked into his piercing green eyes. It was his gang who started this riot. No wonder why he's here.

"And you, love?"

"I'm A-annabelle Montacago." I manage to stutter out.

He nodded.

"Pleasure to meet you, Angel."

• • •

"Shoot, I know you wont understand this situation you've seemed to be stuck in. So I'm going to make this easy," he said and leaned in so close I could feel his warm minty breath on my skin.

"They want you dead. Actually, If we're being technical, you're suppose to already be dead by now. That's why I was sent up here." He admitted all the while staring deep into my eyes.

I was supposed to be killed tonight? By him? Why isn't he doing anything then? Why won't he kill me already?

"Well, are you gonna kill me?" I asked petrified of this young man sitting less than two feet in front of me. If he was gonna kill me I'd rather him do it quick and easy and not just sit here basking in the fact I'm a soon-to-be-goner.

"No, no! Of course not! Trust me, if I wanted this beautiful face dead, you'd be dead already." He winked and my heart beat kicked back up again in relief.

Okay, so if he's not going to kill me, why's he here? Shouldn't he be in his part of town by now?

"Why are you here then? If you won't kill me? Why won't you kill me?" I asked slowly shaking my head in confusion. He turns and looks back at me from his observation of my room and I watch his mouth, slightly nervous of the answer.

"Well, who would protect you from all the others if I wasn't here?" He vaguely pointed out, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows. I thought about his answer for a moment. He didn't answer my question on why he won't kill me.

"W-well the guards, I suppose." I nervously answered, shaking my head. Dismissing the fact he won't kill me for another time.

He laughed.

Then he turned and look so deeply in my doe eyes, he probably could read my wispy dreams and promises.

"Angel, we both know you could be dead right now and they won't even find out until morning. Those bastards don't actually care enough to be here, with you right now, but I am. Now tell me how you feel about that."

Shoot, he's right. But he doesn't have to be so harsh on them. What am I even doing? He's the enemy! This is forbidden. If my father saw me, he'd have me punished for weeks. I shouldn't be talking with him, I shouldn't be here with him. Even if he does say he's here to protect me.

But something about him just feels right, feels safe, feels... Like home. And I don't want him to leave... As crazy as that sounds. But he must, if we have to keep the semi-peace we have between the two rivalries- to stay just that, rivalries. He needs to leave, this isn't right. This isn't safe. And this shouldn't feel like home.

The commotion down in the ball room, which is an eternity away, seem to be settled down by now. The guards must have forced the intruders out and settled the disruption.

"Y-you should leave," I say as I look away start to stand.

"Are you crazy?! I can't leave yet. I have to stay a bit longer to at least make it seem like you got away and I was searching for you. Have you forgot I was suppose to kill you?" He stands, shaking his head slightly pacing around.

I'm relieved he doesn't want to kill me, more than relieved actually. I don't know why he won't though. Why didn't he answer my question before on why he won't do it?

I look down and decide it's better to just leave it as it is.

"Oh. Well what will they do to you when they find out you haven't killed me?" I dare to ask, slighty afraid to hear of the answer, For reasons I'm not so sure of.

"Ha! They'll probably try to chop my balls off!" He half-laughs, still pacing in circles- making me dizzy.

Not knowing what to say, I merely lower my head and mit my fingers together.

Minutes pass by, and I'm lost in my thoughts once again.

I didn't realize he had stopped pacing and is walking to me until I see his black boots stop in front of mine.

I don't look up until two fingers are lighty placed on the underside of my chin and lift my face up to look at him.

He watches me for just a moment, and I stare at him for just a minute.

He slowly bring his face to mine and lightly places his soft, plumb lips onto my delicate cheek.

Then he backs away and walks to my window. He opens the window, and turns to me just for one last time.

He places his hand on his heart- to say 'farewell'.

Turns away, and then he's gone in the wind.