Ruled by Fate

Needless to say, Harry was beyond nervous for Nahla to be coming over. In an empty house no less.

Harry's parents were working, his mom until seven, his dad eight. Gemma was away at university, so she hasn't been home for weeks. So it would just be Nahla and Harry, alone.

He wondered if that was okay or not, if she would be uncomfortable with it. But he didn't tell her, didn't want for her to back out. Besides, she could always back out when they got to the house if she felt it was needed. But Harry didn't think she would do that; Nahla seemed like she'd be fine with it all.

She was, actually, when Harry had felt so guilty for not telling her, and had blurted it out right before they started walking. She had laughed softly, said it was fine, that she trusted Harry enough not to go mad and rape her. And Harry smiled, completely relieved, and stopped worrying. Nahla was great.

The walk on the way to Harry's was mostly silent. Harry would share a comment or two about the neighborhood or something that happened at school, and Nahla would sometimes keep the conversation going with her own input, or shoot it down it her One Nod. She seemed to be thinking hard about something, so Harry left her to it. He'd get time with her when they were working.

"Do you want anything to drink or eat? Tea and biscuits, maybe?" he asked politely after shutting the front door softly behind them. Nahla was looking around at his house, and all over again Harry felt nervous. What did she think of the house? Was it too messy? Or maybe too clean? Did it smell funny? What if she hates it here?

"Your house is so amazing," she finally said, and Harry smiled, thanked her softly. He had noticed she had taken off her shoes. Nahla never ceased to amazing him. "I'd love some tea, though, if it wouldn't be too much trouble?"

Harry shook his head, told her it wouldn't, and lead her to the kitchen to put the kettle on. As he grabbed two mugs, he asked why she had taken off her shoes.

Nahla tugged at her hair a little sheepishly, and Harry thought she seriously couldn't get more adorable. "Uh, mostly out of respect?" She shrugged. "Back home, that's what you do when someone has such a nice house and you don't want it to get dirty with your shoes."

Harry blinked at her, thought Americans were quite odd, but respectable. Harry doesn't think he has ever done that at someone's house before. So he gave a point to the States. "Did you have a nice house back home?" 'Good, slowly ease your way into her life,' he thought. 'She'll crack soon enough.'

Nahla shrugged again, shaking her head. "Not really. I lived next to the poorest neighborhood in the country, so you can get an idea of how the next town over lived."

Harry blinked. He didn't expect that, to be honest. He had assumed Nahla had come from a well-off family that owned a large house that resembled the American Dream. "That must've been hard."

Nahla shrugged again, wrinkling her nose. "Not really. I knew where to go, when to go there. After growing up there my whole life, I was used to it."

Before Harry could respond, the kettle began screaming, so he refrained and started pouring her mug, grabbing the honey also. She thanked him softly when he put them in front of her, and poured himself a mug before turning back. Nahla was blowing on the mug before she tentatively took a sip. Harry noticed the honey had moved, meaning she had put some in there. 

"My mom used to make tea for me all the time, especially when I was sick." Harry was surprised Nahla was sharing with him. It seemed like she never wanted to share anything. He wondered if he should respond, deciding against it. He wanted her to talk, to share more, but he didn't want to force it. "But I like two lumps of sugar instead. Honey's good, though."

But his curiosity got the better of him, and he blurted out, "Where's your mother now?" He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he had done wrong. Nahla wasn't going to talk with him if he was being nosy, he knew. He felt bad for prying. But he wanted to know all about this girl. "Sorry; I didn't mean to ask that. You don't have to tell me." But he secretly wished she would.

Nahla, like Harry assumed, had that guarded look on her face, her eyes having built up a large wall. And there, there was the Nahla Sparrow Harry was used to. She never ceased to disappoint. "Uh, let's get started on the project now, yeah?"

When they worked, it was mostly quiet again. Nahla brought over an extremely big sketchpad that looked to be bigger than her, and a few pencils that only serious artists used. Harry thought she looked amazing in the black rimmed glasses she had slipped on after she took out her contacts, which she said were bothering her greatly.

Harry found himself glancing up at her periodically, just to get a look at her. She looked so calm and peaceful when she was sketching, with an almost caring expression. Harry wondered was she thought about while she drew; if she thought about him, or her life back in the States. He wondered if she had been so bitter before she moved, and if not, what had caused it. 

But most of all, Harry wondered why she always looked so lost. In her eyes, Harry could see her searching for something, something that most likely isn't - and won't ever - be there, like she's waiting for something to happen, even though she knows it's a lost cause. 

After an hour and a half, Harry decided to break the silence with a gentle, "How's the wolf coming?" He smiled when she saw that her tongue was poking out from concentration.

"Almost done," she muttered, and Harry was honestly surprised. Done in less than two hours? Either she was extremely good, or extremely bad; he hoped it was the former. "There!" She turned around with a large smile on her face, and Harry almost forgot to look at the picture because he was so wrapped up in her smile.

He blinked in confusion, his eyes resting on the familiar curls and soft dimples. "You drew me?"

Nahla nodded, and Harry could swear he saw a faint blush on her cheeks. "You have a great profile; I've been looking for an excuse to draw it."

"It looks just like me," Harry said, continuing to stare at the sketch. And it honestly did look like she had taken a photograph and pasted it on the page. He couldn't believe she drew that in less than two hours. "Do you want to go to art school after this year?"

To Harry's surprise, Nahla smiled to herself, fixing up something on the drawing. "I used to. I wanted to design wedding dresses. But then I realized I'd never get a job, and my mom never approved. Computer Science is a bit more practical, anyways, you know?"

"That's stupid," Harry said, shaking his head. Nahla looked up at him sharply, her eyebrows knitted together, "Excuse me?"

Harry shrugged, not wanting to upset the girl, but he couldn't help it. "Giving up your dream just because someone doesn't approve. There's always someone that disapproves; you can't please everyone. So you might as well please yourself."

Nahla didn't talk for a while after that, she just kept staring at her sketch pad. Harry bit his lip, not even bothering to take notes anymore; he was so worried that he had said something to offend or hurt the girl. God, he wanted so badly to know what was going through her mind, what had happened in the States to cause her to move across the world. And he wanted to make everything better; hold her until she was okay, kiss her until she smiled. 

But for now, Harry could only offer her dinner. "Would you like to stay? For dinner, I mean."

Again, to Harry's surprise, Nahla smiled. "Yeah, I'd love to."

The two forgot about their project for a while and Nahla helped Harry make some spaghetti and meatballs. Harry had never seen this side of Nahla Sparrow before. She was bubbly and joking around with him, and Harry thought it might've been because of what he said. He didn't ask; didn't want the wall to build its way back up again. So he merely interacted with her the way she was with him, and found himself liking her even more than before.

The meal was great, and Harry talked to Nahla the whole time. Mostly he talked, about his family and friends, and Harry even shared a lot stories about Louis, Zayn, Liam, and Niall that had Nahla laughing. And Nahla shared a few stories about her friends back home, and about her brother in the Marines. She expressed how much she missed him, and how much she worried about him constantly. Harry said he was sorry and if she ever wanted to talk, he'd always be there to listen. Nahla looked like she honestly appreciated that, and told him that she might take him up on that.

Harry couldn't believe it; he was actually having a great night with Nahla Sparrow, and she was being open with him. He hoped this would continue for a long time.