Trust [h.s.]

VI

Over the course of the following week, Harry and I avoided each other for the most part. There was no drastic shift in our relationship prior to the small moment we shared, and both Harry and I were slightly embarrassed by what had happened. It had shed Harry's harsh demeanor into a different light, and though I still feared him, I realized that there was more to Harry than I had thought. He seemed to be reserved, and closed-off, but catching a glimpse of his vulnerable and comforting nature helped me to understand him a bit more.

   I vowed never to let Harry touch me again, let alone hold me, and tried desperately to cling to the hatred that I felt for him. It was easier than I anticipated, seeing as Harry would spend most days cooped up in his office-which was off limits to me-doing God knows what. I, on the other hand, had developed a routine. After my breakfast, I would watch morning time television, take a long, time-consuming shower, read a novel, eat lunch, read another novel, eat dinner, go to bed. My extremely boring, extremely predictable schedule was dull and uneventful, causing me to feel even more trapped than I did before. I longed to be free, to return to work, return to my friends, return to my life. Surprisingly, I even found myself yearning to be nipped at by the brisk winter winds that circulated through the air outside; swirling, and seeping into the pores of those lucky enough to be bared before it. It had only been about a week since my last encounter with the outside world, but it felt like a lifetime. I knew I would surely drive myself insane spending the rest of my days trapped in Harry's house, and seeing as escaping was a futile attempt, I decided I needed a different approach.

I rocked back and forth on my heel as I stared at the wooden frame before me, hearing the slight creaking of a desk chair, and the subtle scribble of a pen from beyond the door. I took a sharp breath, lifting my knuckle then providing three swift taps to the barrier before I could overanalyze my actions. I held my breath as the scribbling ceased, the desk chair squeaking as Harry lifted himself from his seated position. The door swung open quickly, Harry appearing before me in an instant, glaring down at me with a locked jaw.

"What?" He snapped. The confidence I had in my plan seemingly evaporated as Harry's bad mood became evident. I took a gulp, my eyes widening in fear as I contemplated scampering away from him, then diving into the comfort of my room. Harry's eyebrows rose further up his forehead as he awaited my response, his expression harsh, daring me to speak.

"Um," My voice wavered. "I-I think I'm going to take a walk." My statement sounded as more of a question once it fell from my lips, and by the look on Harry's face, I could tell I was doomed. He inched closer to me, just barely, but enough for him to loom over me intimidatingly, once again, proving his dominance. I took a tiny step away from him, glancing to my surroundings to make a mental escape route incase he got any closer.

"No you're not." He said matter-of-factly, quirking a challenging brow at me. His sour mood seemed to dissolve, and at this point, he stared down at me with a hint of a amusement glimmering in his eye, the ghost of a smirk shadowing his lips. I narrowed my eyes at him, feeling a little braver. I squared my shoulders, my slim frame in no way aiding me in my attempt at intimidation.

"Yes I am." I replied, my tone matching the arrogance in his. This time, when he took a step towards me, I didn't flinch, merely stood my ground as his face inched closer to mine. We were centimeters apart, his hot breath fanning across my features, emerald eyes staring into mine. My body ignited with heat as his frame grew closer to mine, his broad form radiating warmth, then emanating down onto mine. He was waiting for me to crack, waiting for me to break, but I wouldn't. I wasn't sure where this newfound confidence was coming from, but I appreciated its decision to stand by me in a time of need.

"No Ellie," His lips curled into the inevitable smirk as he held my gaze, his sparkling irises gleaming in mischief. "You're not."

I grew frustrated. He thought he was winning this, and I wouldn't allow it. I was bored, and tired, stir-crazy, and ready to explode. I was certain I would die if I had to go another day without letting the rays of sunlight reflect off my pale skin; the fire within me burned deeply, fueling my defiance, heating my confidence.