Status: active.

Ruled by Fate

seven

For Harry, the next week seemed to go amazingly. Not only did Nahla start talking to him during lunch, but she also talked to him before and during class. They were just small conversations, but they made Harry smile to himself when he thought back to him. They shared more and more about their lives, and every day they'd go to Harry's to work on the project and have dinner together, both helping in making the meal. But Harry found himself thinking that he was telling her more than she was to him, like she was holding back something big. Harry was incredibly determined to find out just what that was.

It was a Friday when Harry came up to Nahla and told her that they couldn't go to his house that day for the project because his parents were having a small get together with their friends, and that he was sorry. Nahla frowned and bit her lip, told him that he shouldn't be sorry for something he couldn't help, and after a few seconds she told him that they could go to hers for the night because her dad wouldn't get home until late. Harry smiled from ear to ear then, ecstatic she was letting him into more of her life - a life, it seemed, that he only got the privilege to see.

The walk to Nahla's wasn't much longer than the one was to Harry's, though she lived a few streets over where the older, old-fashioned flats were. Hers, squished between two other flats in a row of what looked to be about twenty, was white with a deep blue door, and had silver numbers that matched the silver door-knocker.  The inside was just as beautiful, the floor creaking a little under his feet, but it was warm and homey like his house.

Her room was up the stairs, and Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of it. It had posters of bands - some even he had never heard of, so he assumed they were local - and other pieces of art that she had done, judging by the style of them covering every inch. Her room wasn't all that big really, just a full-sized bed (that wasn't made, and she blushed and apologized for, quickly pulling the covers up) that was pushed against the wall, and a bookshelf on the free wall. But Harry loved it, especially because she had put up Christmas lights up that were in the shape of the Yellow Submarine. 

"You like the Beatles?" he asked, looking over at her.

Nahla grinned and nodded. "Yeah, I grew up with them. My dad played them constantly when my brother and I were growing up. I used to sing Yellow Submarine all the time when I was a kid."

Harry laughed softly, imagining that. Nahla must've been adorable as a child.

The two finished up the final pieces in their project that night, with Nahla signing her werewolf (that Harry honestly couldn't stop staring at) and Harry finishing up the concluding paragraph on the report.

They were just talking now, about their love for the Beatles, and Harry made fun of Nahla because she said her favorite member was Ringo. When Nahla went to retaliate, most likely about to defend her love for the famous drummer, the two heard the front door slam.

"Shit," Nahla mumbled, quickly standing and walking out the room. Harry didn't know what to do or what was wrong, so he went downstairs with her in case it was an intruder.

It wasn't an intruder, Harry concluded, when he saw two men talking to Nahla, and one that looked a lot like her. He assumed it was her father and his friend.

Nahla looked over at Harry when the stair creaked under his foot, and Harry frowned at the amount of sadness and helplessness in the girl's dark eyes. He wondered what could have possibly changed her mood so quickly. Did she not like her dad? Was he mean to her, or maybe abusive?

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, and Harry caught sight of her tattoo again. He's been meaning to ask the meaning behind that. "Harry, this is my father, Jasper. And this is, uh, this is Rian."

Harry shook hands with both the men, feeling a tight grip from her father, probably tighter than a normal handshake should be. "Nice to meet you both, I'm Harry, Nahla's mate from school."

Jasper nodded, and Harry noticed Rian was trying to stifle a laugh. At what, he didn't know, but Harry had a feeling he wouldn't like finding out. "And what were you two doing up there all by yourself?"

Harry's stomach flipped, and Rian let out a laugh. Of course. Nahla and he had been there all by themselves. It must have looked so bad to her father. "Sir, honest, we weren't doing anything-"

"Oh, really?" Jasper smirked, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut in desperation. God, he was so embarrassed. This wasn't exactly the best first impression.

"Dad, what are you doing here so early? I thought you two were going out tonight," Nahla stepped in, her voice firm and holding no amusement whatsoever. Harry looked over at her with a confused expression. Had she been worried about her father assuming something? Or something completely different? And wait, going out? Like a date?

Jasper looked at his daughter then, his dark eyebrows knotting together. "We decided to stay in tonight. Is that such a problem?" For the next minute, Harry watched the father and daughter have a conversation between their eyes, and it looked like Nahla was losing the battle.

She sighed sharply and snatched her keys from the ring beside her. "No. It's not a problem. I'm going to drive Harry home." She looked at Harry then, and he could see the all familiar wall in her eyes; he sighed, mumbled that he'd be back in a minute, and got his things. 

The car ride was silent, and Harry really didn't care then. He didn't know what to say anyways. He had worked so hard to break down that wall, and almost had, but then that happened and it was built right back up again, and seemed like it was even stronger now.

His eyebrows knitted when he saw her make a turn towards the opposite way of his house. "Hey, wait. You took a wrong-"

"Shush, I know where I'm going," she said, and Harry raised an eyebrow at her. Obviously she didn't if she was going the wrong way, but Nahla didn't look like she wanted to be argued with, so Harry clamped his mouth shut and watched the familiar scenery go by.

They were out of Holmes Chapel in a half hour, and Harry was starting to worry when he saw wheat fields go past. Where were they? Didn't she say she knew where she was going? Maybe she was coming out here so she could kill him and bury the body. 

Another hour later when the sky was black, Nahla pulled the car over and started to get out. Harry followed after her in completely confusion. She was walking through a wheat field now. Had she gone mad?

Finally, in the middle of the field, Nahla lied down and started rolling around, and Harry realized she was flattening it out so they could sit. He sat next to her, trying to figure out what was going on, but nothing was coming to mind. Maybe Nahla was actually going to kill him out here.

"Nahla-" He started, but the girl cut him off as she stared at the star-filled sky.

"My mom and dad were married for twenty-two years. Boone, my brother, was pretty much the cause for their marriage," she said, and it took all of Harry's will power to not let his jaw drop. She was telling him, her story, the reason why she was over in London, the reason why she was so sad all the time. Harry wanted to faint. "A shotgun wedding. How American, right?" Harry could only smile weakly back.

"Twenty-two years. That's a long time in my book. Not many last that long anymore," she shrugged. "But then everything changed a few months before we moved." This was it. The reason. It was all making sense now. Rian and Jasper, the move, Nahla looking like she had been torn apart.

"For the entire time they'd known each other, my dad kept his secret from my family. He had a lover on the side, and not just any lover. It was Rian." She laughed humorlessly then. "My dad's been gay his whole life; he just never admitted it until then."

"It's just. It's kind of funny, you know?" It was rhetorical, obviously, and Harry didn't answer. But he wanted to ask how a situation like this could be funny. He never thought it was humorous at all. Nahla squinted up at the starry sky. "You always think, 'Yeah, my parents are going to be together forever. They love each other. They'll never split." She sighed then, shaking her head a bit. Harry had honestly never seen her so sad in his life before, and she wasn't even crying. She just looked . . . sad. 

"And then it happens, and your dad turns out to be gay the whole time, and your life just doesn't make any sense anymore." She said it with an edge, and Harry knew she was getting worked up, getting angry. She blamed herself, Harry knew that, thought he couldn't understand how she could blame herself for her father being homosexual. Unless she had physically altered his genes some way or another so he would be attracted to men, Nahla had no part in this.

"My mom was pissed, no shocker. But she took her anger out on me, and the court didn't like that, so they let me live with my dad even though he cheated on my mom. They just didn't want me to live with someone who was going to hit me." Another shrug. "So they're letting me stay with my dad temporarily until my brother gets home, and when he does, he'll be my legal guardian, and I'll live with him."

"Nahl," he tried. He just wanted to say something, anything, to make her feel better, to make her understand that this happens sometimes and that it wasn't her fault, that he understood going through a divorce.

But Nahla was damn stubborn, more so than a bull, and she wasn't going to think any differently for a long time. So she shook her head to get him to stop, picked herself up, and looked down at him. The wheat around her came up to her shoulders, and Harry wondered how it even got that high. But the moon was shining down on her, hitting her cheek bones at a certain angle that it illuminated her dark eyes, and Harry thought she never looked more beautiful than this moment.

And when Harry saw the shield in them, blocking what little section of her soul he had seen, he knew it was over. Nahla was back to her guarded form, and it would be a long time before he saw the sensitive side of her again. 

He blinked at her when she lit up a cigarette, thinking she was mad for opening a flame in the middle of a completely flammable field. "Come on," she said, voice neutral now. Yep, the sensitive side was definitely gone. "Let's get you home. I'm beat."

And that was the end of that.
♠ ♠ ♠
So yeah, fun fact: This was actually the first chapter I wrote out of this story. I had the idea and wrote it, and then started writing up to it and then beyond it. I wanted the story be kind of based around this.

But heeehehh, you know her secret now. Sorry if it didn't meet up to your expectations! But, however, I did say that it wasn't something super huge, so. But what did you think? The next chapter is actually my favorite out of the whole story because ALL of One Direction is finally in it. So yeah, I'm excited for you guys to read that. c:

here's some amazing gifs because i couldn't decide on which to post:
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i hope you enjoyed shirtless harry c:

-marley