Masochistic Sonder | 𝐻𝒮 | Harry Styles

Chapter Thirteen: You're So Golden

Chapter Thirteen: "You're So Golden"

THE PROBLEM WAS THAT part of me didn't want to get better, part of me wasn't looking forward to laughing any moment soon.
Part of me found comfort and familiarity in the absolute suffering and agony.

"Here we are!"
"Aaliyah, baby girl I'm back, we have visitors, I've got a present for you, from Italy!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, then I heard the sound of keys dropping on the glass, it must have been the table at the side of my bed.

The lights quickly turned on and I focused my eyes and looked at what was in front of me: my desk with my closed laptop and a flawlessly shut glass door and I instantly looked down, just to see a white feather graciously laying on the ground.

"Aaliyah, sweetheart, are you okay?" she asked and I felt her hands' grip onto my shoulders pulling them back and I instinctively looked up to her.
"Sorry, she's not often like this, something must have happened I'll be right back to you, the bathroom is just there, freshen up," she said as she briefly looked behind me, she quickly returned to me, gently massaging my shoulder and she dragged her other hand to my face; she always put me first no matter what.

"I'm pretty sure that you are more than welcome to have a read, the books are just there, treat them with care, she loves them or how it's said in Italian: lei ama molto i suoi libri," she said, I would die for my books.

"Morirebbe per loro," added a manly deep voice in a whisper, I would die for them, I could sense it's being and I was mesmerised by how fragile their presence felt behind me.

"Morirei per loro," I repeated, looking forward and holding in my hand Bastet's, she gripped tighter onto mine and smiled.
"I'm better now, I was thinking about something," I said and forced a smile.

"I'm Aaliyah, nice to meet you," I emotionlessly said once I turned around. He wore a black beanie on his head, his edges were trimmed which made me think he had shaved his hair but not fully, he wore grey silver hoops, black dark eyebrows that complimented his dirty blonde dyed hair.
I shifted my look down towards his fingers and they were stuffed with big silver rings, just like Harry's but Harry's fingers were prettier not matter what type of accessories he wore.
Tattoo scarcely filled his veiny toned arms: one of them was a massive flower that spilled all over his lower arm and a cross on the back of his hand.

"Luke Anubis Hemmings, nice to meet you too Aaliyah," he said looking up to me, he stood up and then I noticed how tall he was, I liked his figure, strong like nothing could drag him down, he gave me a sense of security but I couldn't fully trust him.
He smiled at me and slightly lowered his eyes down to me and reached his hand towards me, I reached mine out and that's how I met someone very close to Bastet.

"Do you often wear silver jewellery this much?" I asked as I turned his hand so that it laid on my palm, I looked up to him and he looked surprised that I dared to touch him.

"Not always, I like wearing gold, everywhere possible: on my arms, on my neck just plain gold chain, I mostly like to wear gold Ndebele chokers, I get called feminine sometimes but I don't care as long as I like them," he replied.

We started to make conversation as we walked through the hallway, with white dimmer lights in the ceiling it was slightly narrow and lots of painting stood along the side, I bought them myself through time.
The corridor would have taken us straight to the living room: a very well decorated place but sadly it wasn't connected to the kitchen.

One thing I learned about Luke's personality was that he would often prefer to answer sensibly and occasionally he would crack jokes, he sounded serious though; his habit was to cross his arms while he chatted to me.
He liked to rant about spiritual topics which fascinated me a lot, I looked for passion and integrity in his words.

"Hemmings likes to have fun," said Bastet looking at Luke with a smirk on her reddish tinted lips, he trusted him enough to show that side of her.
"He's really good at having fun," she slowly whispered her last words and she seemed not to be able to take her eyes off Anubi, I felt desirous that she perceived Hemmings that way.

"Which type of fun do you prefer Bastet?" He asked with a deep voice, good grace if it was, it rushed through my veins dangerously.

"The type of fun you like to have," she responded giggling and then sighed like she was dying to say those words.
She brought up her legs towards her chest and her skirt hardly covered in between her legs.

We went back to my room to see the type of magical fun he enjoyed: he enjoyed drinking in silence with a book in between his hands with a lit cigarette in between his lips.

One thing I learned was the actual person Abunis was, he dared to touch, he dared to feel skin to skin without any remorse and he only did that with scarce trust and consent.
I had an appetite for love, his love and Bastet's and they both gave me more than I asked, they both didn't feel like Harry nor William and because they both were nothing like them.

I carried both of their warm breaths in my hands and spread it onto my cold skin, they sank deep inside my pores and they filled them with love.

"Amazing, the grammar is immaculate and everything else is perfect, bravissima e complimenti," he said and turned the page.
I quietly looked up to him and admired his coffee skin as I sat in between his legs, on my carpet and went back to face the mirror in front of me.
His accent reminded me of back home, calm.
Bastet laid on my bed with only my satin robe on her and even in that position she looked amazingly beautiful.