Soldier Styles

Chapter 5

The next week about, I was able to avoid Harry. Not like he was trying to communicate or anything. If laws were needed to be laid down, he'd announce it. Otherwise, our lives continued in parallel lines.

I'd be sure to be in the house by curfew, and he wouldn't bother me. I felt glad knowing maybe this is the worst it would be with a soldier living with us. The worst would be a strict curfew and another stomach to feed. Even though the deep purple blemish on my wrist took five days to disappear, maybe soldiers weren't as violent and horrific as stated before.

But the incident with Harry did allow me to relax around him. One night as the family sat around the television watching one of my favorite sitcoms.

Our room chuckles as a laugh-track is played on the show, as the mother drops the dinner tray.

Dallas and his friend quietly whisper to themselves on one side of the room, while my mother and father held hands and lounged on the couch. Harry was sat back in the white recliner, sitting in pure silence with a natural glare at the tele screen.

I was left with a blanket wrapped around me, on the ground, feeling only partially entertained with the show.

As the show cut to a government commercial, I rocked back and got up off the ground and excused myself from the room and back to mine.

Once I stepped in my room, I automatically stripped my clothes in preparation for a shower. It was the end of a long day, and I had gone for a run and was in need of a cleaning. I tugged a towel off the rack and wrapped it around my bare body, before I opened my door and started making my way to the bathroom across the hall.

As my hand grasped the bleached ceramic knob of the bathroom door, I heard an immensely loud bang down the hall.

"What the hell was that?"

I mutter to myself as I let my feet drag me down to the room at the end of the hall; Harry's room.

From outside his door, I can hear fierce cussing and yelling and I don't even consider the consequences as I reach for his doorknob, twist, and push.

The first thing I notice is the large box sat in the middle of his room, and his large figure pacing.

Next I notice his head shoot up and his eyes widen when he sees I'm standing in his doorway.

His dark hair is a mess surrounding his sharp face, and his lips are drawn in a loose line. Harry wore the same grey shirt he had had on a few minutes ago, but now instead of his army pants, he wore a pair of black sweats.

As his hand shots casually into the pocket of his pants, and he opens his mouth to say something, I catch his emerald eyes look me up and down.

"shit."

I was wearing a towel still.

My mind decides quickly this wasn't a good idea, and I definitely over-step my line.

"Harry.."

I stuttered, reading his indifferent look upon his face.

"I.. I just heard something... and decided to come check it out and well I shouldn't... shouldn't be here I'm sorry."

I spat out, as my shaking hand re-adjusted the end of the towel that kept it held tightly to my chest.

Without a sound after that, I turn and prepare to rush to the safety of the shower, but Harry's words stop me.

"I dropped my record player. It's okay Aurora."

The phrase came drifting out his mouth, without the least of anger laced within it.