Conflict (Mal x Harry)

That Night

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mal could see her breath as it puffed out of her lungs into the cold air. It was dark, and the sky was starless - not even the moonlight could give her proper visibility of the street around her.
For a girl that knew the Isle like the back of her hand, she really did not know where she was. She had left in a rush. Unable to face her mothers biting words any longer.

"You can't do one little thing right, can you?"

"There's too much of that father of yours in you, you know that don't you child?"

"I can't believe you are all I could muster up. I knew I should have had another. You're weak."

She shivered as the wind picked up and whipped around her. She had failed to grab a jacket as she ran out, only having enough time to pull on her boots before her body began to wrack with sobs.

"Mom, please, I'm sorry."

"I'll do it better next time, I promise."

"Please. I'm not weak, I swear."

The sobs continued to wrack her small frame as she drifted through the streets. But she couldn't be in that place anymore - it suffocated her.
"Never let them see you cry - once you cry they know you're weak."
The hot tears that streaked down her cheeks burned as they froze against here soft skin. The thin soles of her boots meant she could feel the cobbles beneath her feet and not even her arms wrapped around her torso could provide her with some semblance of warmth.
She knew she was in the wrong side of town, she had run until her lungs burned and her legs wobbled, and she didn't know where she was in the low light of the early morning. She could smell the grease from the dingy restaurants, and hear the rowdy bar patrons leaving for the night; cackles and jeering filled the distant air.

She sniffled, unable to muster up her usual impassivity; she had never felt so small, and that was saying something because Maleficent had made her feel pretty wretched on countless occasions.

Her tired legs began to stumble against the raised stones underneath her feet when a voice cracked through the quiet, "I think you're on the wrong side of town, Princess."

She recognised the voice but couldn't bring herself to look his way ; she'd rather die then let him see her cry, "Go away, Hook."

She heard his dark chuckle, "Oh I don't think so," she heard his boots clinking with every heavy step he took as he slowly caught up with her by using his long strides, "You've crossed over into our territory- you've broken the agreement."

He was close behind her now, but he hung back, biding his time before disturbing her space, "Fuck off, that deal is a load of wank. I don't want this shithole part of the Isle, I'm just passing through. So go away."
She flashed him her profile over her shoulder and bared her teeth, but her words lacked their distinctive bite, though they were still venomous.

He let out a low whistle, "Oh the dragon's snappy this evening," he chuckled humourlessly, "Lucky I'm in a good mood - I'm feeling generous," Much like her bared teeth, he flashed a wolfish grin, "Can't be bothered with all that violence and plundering blah blah tonight."

She huffed, growing bored of him now, "Like you would take me if you could. You wouldn't hurt me even if you tried cause you're a coward."
Now, she knew these words were untrue - Harry was known for his brutality in tight situations, and very much could and would use violence against her if necessary. He had in the past and she still had the scar beneath her right temple hair line to prove it. However, she was tired of his attempts to get a rise and so, maybe unwisely, was fighting fire with fire.