Trust [h.s.]

V

The next morning, I hesitantly crept down the steps, hoping to avoid Harry and his anger at all costs. His unpredictable emotions and icy glare sent chills down my spine; just being in the same room with him caused me to tense up in fear. As well as feeling scared of Harry, though, there was also a inevitable disdain that built within my chest at the very sight of him. Maybe it was Harry, maybe it was the situation I was in, but I felt angry, disrespected, and small. 

When my bare feet padded against the cool tiled floor into the kitchen, I gave the space a quick glance around, hoping to ensure my absolute solitude. As I deemed my entry safe, I made my way over to the cabinet, grabbing a box of cereal, then pouring it into a ceramic bowl. Once I completed my breakfast with milk and a spoon, I hopped on a stool, and began crunching on the crispy flakes. The sound of my chewing was evidently too loud to hear my surroundings, and when my eyes locked with Harry's, standing directly before me, I jumped, releasing an embarrassing squeak in the process. 

He offered me a slight smile, looking surprisingly calm, before turning away from me to fix a breakfast of his own. He poured the same cereal that I munched on into a similar looking bowl, topped it with milk, then dug his spoon in, shoveling a mouthful between his lips, and crunching contentedly. Once he swallowed his food, his eyes met mine once more, their vibrant green looking concerned and serious.

"You like these, right?" He asked with a furrowed brow.

"Uh. What?" I answered, my heart's pace increasing rapidly at his attempt in conversation.  I circled my spoon around my half-full bowl, my appetite suddenly lost due to Harry's arrival. The noise of the soggy cereal sloshing around the confinements of its ceramic holder was all that sounded throughout the empty house. 

"This cereal," He held up the box to show me. "You like it, right? If not, I can buy something else." 

I was confused, concerned, convinced this was a trick or something.  I stared at him long and hard, waiting for him to laugh, or mock me, or do something that would somewhat resemble the Harry that I knew and hated. 

"Um." I stuttered once I realized that he'd been waiting for my response. "No, I like this kind." I stated quietly, averting my gaze, then staring into my cereal bowl. 

"Good." Harry shrugged, turning away from me to place his empty bowl in the dishwasher. As he opened the door to the machine, a puff of steam rose up, then fanned across his symmetrical features, and his emerald green eyes-framed by enviously long lashes-batted to rid themselves of the air. It looked almost angelic, the way he made the most simple tasks seem graceful and magnificent. He was terrifying, but a beautiful mystery all in the same.

I shook my head, attempting to rid myself of such absurd thoughts by doing so. Yes, Harry was attractive, yes, Harry was mysterious, yes, Harry was fascinating, but that didn't mean he wasn't the same rude, scary, and malicious man I'd grown to know over the course of these past few days. He was dangerous and closed-off, hidden away from the rest of the world by his stone-cold personality. 

Harry sighed, breaking me of my thoughts, and reminding me he was still in the room. 

"Look," He said exasperatedly. "I can go shopping for anything you need, like clothes, food, or um," He suddenly look embarrassed. "You know, female things, if you just tell me what you want.".

I stared at him, long and hard, as frustration built within my chest. I knew I should have been careful with my words, and I knew I should have been obedient, but the defiance inside of me was stronger than any submission, and as I locked eyes with Harry, I stared hard, letting him know that I was stronger than he believed.

"Why are you being nice to me?" I snapped, offering his the iciest glare I could muster. "Stop acting like you care about me when you don't."

Harry's eyes widened in shock momentarily before he collected himself, and furrowed his brows; his expression now matching my own.