Running with You // H. S.
- Reads 35
- Votes 3
- Parts 3
MatureOngoing10m
Last published Sat, Apr 2, 2022
Florence is a 19 year old girl, the granddaughter of a member in parliament, and the love of the soon to be king. Unfortunately for him, her heart has been bestowed elsewhere.
Carter, Florence's boyfriend, is surrounded by an all consuming love for her. And while, Florence is content with her life, something happens that makes the earth orbit right beneath her own feet.
The fourth World War has come to its conclusion and monarchies have reclaimed their place as the most common form of government.
While returning to her first true home, Florence reconnects with her best friends from a lifetime ago. In joyous adventures, bonding moments, and sneaky tricks, she is finally back where she belongs.
With Florence back in the castle and Prince Harry still besotted by her, anything is possible.
If only it weren't so much for complicated than that.
****
"Don't call me that" I retort.
"And why the fuck not? Is your boyfriend gonna come after me?"
A pang of fear shoots through my blood stream. It hate that he can do this to me. Have this presence when he's not even near.
"Yoo hoo!" Harry flails his arms above his head.
"Hm?" I resume.
"Why do you always do that? I'm just trying to have a civilized conversation and you won't even give me the time of day to reply with more than a 'Hm?.'" He jokes. While groaning, I throw the towel at him.
"Now that is just rude," he pouts, "Throwing a dirty towel at the Prince? Truly Flo, absolutely unbelievable."
There's a sudden change in music that transitions from peppy classical, to elegant ballroom. Harrys eyebrows shoot up.
"My Lady Flo," I grin, realizing what's happening, "may I please have the absolute honor of taking this dance with you?" He says while extending his arm out.
I place my hand onto his palm, "I suppose I can fit you into tonight's schedule."
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"I know exactly what you like." I swallowed, my throat dry despite the whiskey. "And what does that have to do with your secret?" His lips curved, the faintest hint of a smirk. "Because I think you want someone who can push back." The heat in my stomach curled tighter, and I hated that too. Hated that he was reading me too easily, hated that I couldn't tell if he was just playing or if he really understood. "That's not much of a secret," I said smoothly, keeping my voice even. "Anyone could guess that." "Maybe," Harry mused, his fingers toying with the rim of his glass. "But I don't think just anyone could keep up with you." I narrowed my eyes, my body betraying me with the way it leaned just slightly closer. "And you think you can?" He didn't answer right away. He just held my gaze, letting the anticipation stretch, letting the weight of it settle between us. Then, finally, his smirk deepened. "I guess that depends," he murmured, his voice dropping to something dark. "Are you gonna let me find out?" // August Paisley was born into bloodshed. As the daughter of Brooklyn's most ruthless mafia leader, she's spent her life sharpening her edges, knowing that love is a liability and trust is a death sentence. With enemies circling and war on the horizon, she has no time for distractions-especially not the kind that comes in the form of sharp-tongued, brooding, Harry Styles. Harry is everything she should hate. The son of her family's greatest enemy. A man raised on the promise of destruction. Their worlds are built on blood feuds and old grudges, and there's no future where the two of them walk away unscathed. But when their paths collide, what starts as a battle of wit and fire turns into something else-something intoxicating, something inevitable. Falling for him is a mistake that cost her everything. Her life. But in a war where nothing is certain, letting him go might be the most dangerous thing of all.
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