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"Evangeline, wake up, we need to go to the shops." Harry grumbled nudging her shoulder. He was utterly drained from the night before, but knew he had to get on with his day.
"Go away." She groaned, turning over in the sheets and burying her head in the pillow.
"Get up now." He spoke sternly. Evangeline ignored him and curled deeper into the sheets, tugging them around her slight body.
Her peace was disrupted by the cold splash of water across her face and neck, causing her to quiver and sit up in a hurry, with a loud groan. Gazing indignantly up at him holding an empty glass above her, she shot him the dirtiest glance but nonetheless got up and sulked all the way to the bathroom.
As she turned the corner he could've sworn she mumbled "asshole" under her breath. But then again, he wasn't quite sure.
Harry smirked, glad he'd gotten his way. While she showered, the man busied himself preparing some toast for the both of them and making her a warm milky mug of tea and himself some black coffee. He remembered she used to like her tea that way.
Twenty or so minutes later, Evangeline came downstairs. Her damp dark hair tied on top of her head in a lazy bun and still wearing her plaid skirt yet now it was paired with one of Harry's white shirts; the top few buttons undone and hanging cheekily against her chest.
She looked clean and fresh, a little smile ghosting her features, clearly feeling a lot better after her shower. Her soft skin, clean of any make up, looked so soft to him. She looked so youthful and pure.
Evangeline sat at the head of the table, opposite to him and quietly ate her breakfast, reading the back of the newspaper he held in his hands.
He took her dishes when she finished and ushered her to the door and to his car. Evangeline was no expert on cars but she could tell this was expensive; sleek black with a leather interior.
She wondered where this money was coming from if he no longer spoke to his parents, but she could only assume he'd started his own business just like his forefathers.
His deep lilt drew her from her daze and back to reality, "We'll get some clothes for you today, is there anything else you would need?"
"I already have clothes."
"I mean proper clothes, my shirts and that skirt- that, mind you, is practically non-existent- do not count as your clothes."
"I don't have any money." She mumbled embarrassed, revealing the real reason she didn't want more clothes.
"What kind of person do you think I am?" He shook his head. "Force you to buy clothes and then make you pay for them yourself."
"I'm obviously going to pay for you." He grumbled.
Evangeline thanked him but frowned internally. He was too kind to her, she felt guilty for everything.
When Evangeline ran away, the only place she could think of as safe, was with Harry. She knew she shouldn't have come and put him in a position where he felt like he had to take care of her, she knew she could've put him in danger.
But she had to nowhere else to go, except perhaps for that house. The one with the cracked floorboards and the musty smell, stained walls from the concrete fumes permeating the concrete. Barricaded windows allowing the air to be thick in gloom and acrid spirits.
The house felt like death, stuck in rigor-mortis. Beer bottles and stubbed cigarettes littered the dust-ridden corridors, a couple of times she could've sworn she glimpsed bloodstains on the walls. She hated it there but she kept coming back for the boy, Scorpius.
That wasn't his real name, and in-fact, Evangeline never found out his real name. Everyone knew him as Scorpius, so that's what she called him, ever since the night she met him in the alley behind the club on the East side of town.
The moments she spent with him were her saviour. He was dark, the type of person your parents warned you to stay away from, but her parents were to busy fighting to take care of her.
So Scorpius took up that role, he protected her and in return she spent her nights with him - helping him. She did his assignments for him, cleaned up for him and made sure no one asked questions about where he was at some ungodly hour, and what he was doing.
He was clever, the most proficient person she'd ever met in mathematics, his calculations were pages long with symbols Evangeline couldn't fathom actually understanding. His knowledge somewhat went to waste as he never bothered to study and his English was poor, because he mainly only needed to speak Italian.
The moments she spent with Scorpius were the ones where she felt most alive. Scorpius rolling her first cigar for her, and teaching her how to smoke under the bridge by the river at midnight. Lying on his mattress, curling into his side while he lulled her to sleep, Scorpius stealing her jewellery and flowers in late September.
He never tried anything on her and for that she was thankful, no matter how many times she had wanted to kiss him, really kiss him. He'd never given in, he refused the pure girl, saying she must wait for her 'real lover'. Scorpius knew all about Harry.
But Scorpius was now just a distant memory, and her concern was Harry. Who was now pulling into a parking space and -" Are you even listening to me?"
"Pardon?"
"Oh never mind, let's go, stay close to me and if people take pictures cover your face."
She laughed, "why would anyone take pictures?" she fails to notice the serious look on his face.
Realisation dawned on his features, "you haven't read my book have you?" he shook his head.
"What book?"
He let out a single chuckle, "where have you been Evangeline, you do know I'm an author right?"
"Well I do now." She says a little exasperated, wondering how she'd never heard anything of the sort and was stuck assuming he was getting his money from some sort of business.
But it did make sense, the massive private property in a oddly isolated area, the the expensive cars and the fact he'd always hated corporate businesses. She would have to read it sometime.
She trailed after Harry looking somewhat like a lost puppy, following him through department stores and picking out skirts and dresses, (mostly in black, which he wasn't too happy about) one dress they bought however was a beautiful light pink gown he said would be for a fancy event if there was one.
It made her stressed, him planning for the future so calmly. People back home never planned for her future, knowing she would probably just leave when things got too real.
He was calm around the few but constant cameras, but she wasn't. All jittery and covering her face from the obnoxious flashes, or even the couple people who pretended to not be taking a pictures of them.
Did people have no respect these days? She wondered.
She stood back for a moment as he signed someone's book, he looked so comfortable and at ease like this. She thought he was so angelic the way he smiled would light up an entire room.
