‹ Prequel: Burn
Status: Hiatus

Whispers

Please look me in the eye, say it ain't so

Rae buried her face in Trystan's hair, wrapping her arms around her best friends middle and holding her tight. Trystan hugged her back with the same amount of vigor, Harry watching the two with mild interest as he leaned on the wall. It seemed that Rae had in fact missed Trystan, from the way she was clinging to her.

After their fight, Harry had relented and finally decided that Rae was right. He was making her life a vacuum seal of days, and he didn't want to do that to her. So he called Trystan and told her that she could come get Rae. They could go home. But that did not mean he wouldn't keep an eye on her.

Looking at his phone, he sighed. He was supposed to be meeting his mother for lunch. Mother. He had only just strayed referring to her as such. For the first time in all his years of life, his mom was treating him somewhat like her own child.

Growing up with two lawyers as parents, and a father who knew nothing of affection, Harry had missed childhood. He had missed being tucked in at night, he had missed having parents who actually cared. So he acted out. He was violent. And yet, only now, when she was divorcing his father, had Harry's mother finally reached a tentative hand out. And Harry was taking that chance.

To be honest, he was unsure at first. He wasn't sure what it was like to have a mother. And he wasn't sure he trusted her. But when Rae had pushed him, he went forth with it. Rae had also told his mother point blank that if she hurt him, no force in heaven or hell would stop her from finding his mother.

That was his Rae.

As long as they had been together, it was easy for Harry to forget that Rae protected him as much as he protected her. But Rae protected him from his biggest enemy of all, and that was himself. Harry's nature was self-destructive, and she had slowed the process if not stopped it completely. And at night, when her warm soul was next to his in a blanket of dreams and hopes, he silently thanked God that he was given her.

It had taken a long time for him to accept that he was never going to be good enough for her. She was that kind of pure person that people wrote stories about, the kind of girl that when ink met paper, people cried over it. And he did not deserve her at all. But that did not mean that he wasn't going to do the best that he could. Just because you don't deserve something doesn't mean you shouldn't love it to the best of your ability.

"You're going to be late." The voice of his own guardian angel brought him back to earth, the tether that was everything in his existence. And she was laughing at him. "You're mom doesn't like late."

"How do you know that?" He inquired, opening his arms as she trailed to him. His hands were large on the expanse of her waist as he pulled her in, kissing her lightly once. Trystan made a gagging sound in the background. "You've only met her a few times if I quite remember."

She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her fingers twined playfully with the hair at the nap of his neck. He tried not to shiver. She had the best touch. "She's a lawyer. She seems like the type. And you love being late. Which means you got it from doing it to spite your parents, babe."

He grinned, shaking his head. Only Rae could figure that out. He swore she could read his mind. "Alright. Go home. Paint pictures of me. In the nude."

Rolling her eyes, she backed away from him. "Ill wait for you to call to answer my door, stupid."

Watching her go, Harry smiled. Despite her annoyance with him, she tried. The love of his life was a trier if nothing else. It was one of the qualities that he admired about her. She tried anything, whereas he liked to balk at things.

Leaving the house, Harry went to Abonanzas, his moms favorite Italian place. He had gone there many times in the past in between nannies or when it was for family dinner. Family dinner which consisted of talking about cases and gossiping while Harry pretended that his crayon drawings on the napkins weren't annoying his parents.

Inside, he found her instantly. She wasn't hard to find, sitting by herself with a perfect posture and Chanel pantsuit. His mother rarely wore anything else, unless it was a fine dress. He had always thought it was rather ridiculous, but refrained from saying so.

"Hello, mother," he greeted cordially, pulling out a chair and sitting down. His mother was a very beautiful and statuesque women with a tight-lipped smile. A glass of wine was on the table, red has her expensive lip color. He made no comment about her drinking already. "Did you order already?"

She shook her head. "I wasn't sure what is was you liked to eat so I wanted to wait."

Harry had to fight the urge to raise his brows. His mother had used to order whatever she was eating for him. Never had she given him the option. "Okay. I know what I want. Thank you."

She didn't smile, but her lips imitated something that looked like an attempt. When they ordered, Harry leaned back, sipping a water. He was not joining her in drinking wine, still not sure if he wanted to test his drinking. It wasn't that he was addicted. It was that he hasn't learned how much he could drink until his inhibitions were gone.

"How have you been?" She asked him, sipping her glass.

He shrugged, picking at the table cloth. Her effort was notable in caring. "I've been good. I'm taking classes at Rae's suggestion, and I've been working. Healthy, the usual. And you?"

"I'm alright. Work is very busy during this time of year. For some reason people need lawyers as winter approaches."

"And the divorce?"

It was hard for him to ask. He didn't really want to discuss it, not because it hurt him to, but because he didn't want to know. He had learned to become disinterested in the affairs of his parents. It was easier and less stressful that way. "Fine. Two lawyers getting a divorce is pretty straight forward. No
cheating one another out of things. Splitting it half way. Has your father spoken with you at all?" Harry shook his head no and the conversation paused as their food was brought. He took the few minutes to gather his thoughts. He wasn't sure how his mom felt about the divorce, just that his mom wanted a relationship with him through and after it. "I assumed not. He isn't a man of many words, at least not about things that matter. Should I bother asking you how you feel about it, or should I assume I'm right? About your feelings on the matter?"

Once again he shrugged. There wasn't much else to do. "I feel as if its none of my business unless I'm needed for something. What's going on between the two of you is between the two of you."

She smirked a little then, a thin display of amusement. It was the first time he had ever seen her amused. "Spoken like a lawyer," she chuckled lowly. "But I know that's not what you want. So tell me, what is it that you want? Aspirations, dreams."

The question struck him. He'd never really told his mom what he wanted before. Growing up, it hadn't mattered. But now, sitting across from him she looked interested, eyes settling on him. The same color eyes that Rae told him he had, that Rae swore were a gift from God. In fact, Rae had told him part of the reason she wanted to trust his mother was because they shared the same eyes.

Chewing on his food, he realized that in a span of a minute, everything that had crossed his mind touched on the subject of Rae. She influenced his thought process without even trying. Everything about her was threaded through him.

"I think," he began slowly. "That maybe I want to do something with literature. I've always been good at books and reading. Rae says I know more about books than the author that wrote them, though I think that's her teasing me, not giving me a compliment. Maybe even journalism, though I'm not a fabulous writer."

She nodded. "Literature suits you. Even when you were young you found solace in books. I'm glad Rae sees that. She... Influences a lot, yes?"

He smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you think it's forever?"

"I like to think so."

Her nod came again. "I never thought of the word 'forever' with your father. So I guess that goes to show you're more mature than I am, doesn't it?"

His brow creased. In all his years of life, he was sure he had never heard his mother make a comment to slight herself. Ever. She was a sure woman, a confident one. In other words, a lawyer. "No. You just didn't find the right person. That doesn't make you immature. It makes you normal."

"Normal," she laughed, smiling then. Harry felt himself smile too, at her. It felt like they were having a moment. It wasn't too deep and it wasn't emotional. It was just right. "Is there such thing?"

He grinned. "I don't think so, mother."

*

The bell to the shop rang, making Harry look up. His hands were wrist deep in flour, his fingers working at the dough on the counter in front of him as he paused, cocking his head to the side.

Niall and Rae walked in, both sipping milkshakes as they did so, Louis and Trystan standing outside just through the window. Harry had stayed late, making the dough and getting things ready to open in the morning. The closing shift was his favorite, and he knew his friends were only coming in because the sign was off.

"What?" Rae asked with a delicate grin, holding up a milkshake. It was mint chocolate, his favorite and he looked at it happily. "Just cause you set me free didn't mean I was going to run forever."

It was the fact that Rae had come down to his work by herself that made him swell with love. He knew he was smothering her and yet there she stood, shoving a straw in his mouth from over the counter, standing on her tiptoes as he smiled and sipped the cold dessert.

"It was my idea," Niall said, spreading his hand out over his chest as bowing. Rae threw him a pointed look and he looked warily at her. "Or maybe it was Rae's and I said I wanted a milkshake."

She looked back at Harry. "He had three."

"And a half."

Taking the milkshake from her hand, he set it on the counter, dusting his hands off on his apron. He had another 45 minutes of work. He saw her assess his work, quirking her lips to the side. "Can I stay and help?" He raised his brows. "You haven't let me help since our first date."

"Because you threw flour at me."

She grinned. "Get my apron, Baker Boy."

Niall waved his hand as he exited, but not before snatching the milkshake Rae didn't want to finish. Four. Harry laughed at his friends antics as he tossed Liz's apron at Rae, who caught it surprisingly well, tying it around her slim waist. On her, the apron looked like a dress, Liz being much taller.

"I think I need to get you an apron for Christmas."

"Okay."

He blinked in surprise as she downed her hands in flour, standing next to his elbow and watching watch he did. She pulled out dough and followed suit. "You'd take an apron for Christmas?"

Her small hands made for art and paintbrushes attempted to work the dough. It wasn't as accurate as Harry's. "Anything from you is okay. I don't date you for luxuries. Otherwise you'd take me to fancy places and all of that pretentious bullshit."

"You are many things, pretentious isn't one of them."

"Thanks."

Quietly, she followed each fold his hands made. Though Harry couldn't paint or draw, his hands could make art with bakery and such. They're hands were made for different tasks, but both elegant and artsy in their own.

Every once in a while, he fixed what Rae was doing, but the time went much faster as she worked next to him, her elbow hitting his lightly as if to remind him that she was still there, that she had not run away from him.

It was comforting. The phrase "if you love something, set it free" had never resonated so nicely as it did in the depths of his heart hit then. He had given her space. And at the end of the day she was helping him clean out everything in the fridge, cleaning down the counters and washing her hands that were floured up to her elbows. She smiled at him when he flicked off all the lights, linking their fingers as they walked through the back parking lot.

"Did you eat?"

"Mhmm. I ordered Chinese. I have general Tsous in the microwave for you."

He looked at her. "I love you."

"I know." She was silent for a moment before smirking a little. "Liam and Finn are on a date tonight."

Harry's brows shot up and an impressed twist came to his lips. So Liam finally stepped up. Top lad. "Oh yeah?"

"Yep. I helped her pick out her dress. He took her to dinner and a movie."

"Where and what movie?"

"Aurelio's and Hangover Three."

His eyes slide over to her. That was unlike Liam. "Trystan and I told him."

He nodded. Liam was the kind of guy to take a girl to a fancy place and a romantic movie. He was all about chivalry and showing that he actually liked being a gentleman. Finn wasn't the sort is girl that liked to go on romance. She liked to laugh. It was a good selection on the girls part. "You think she'll
enjoy it?"

"Absolutely. It's Liam. He's a perfect gentleman." He eyed her again. "And she may have told me she quite fancies him."

At home, Harry led the way up the drive as Rae stopped to get mail. It was late, but she always had a nasty habit of leaving it. Joining him inside he dug in her fridge as she flicked through it before quickly chucking it in a drawer. "Junk?"

"Um, yeah. Just trying to sell my stuff as always. I really don't want a knitting kit."

"Why, you're already like an old married grandma."

"Huh. I don't see a ring." That surprised him and he jerked up as he heard the microwave beep, shutting the fridge with a soda in his hand, looking at Rae. A devilish smile popped into her pink lips. "I'm kidding, Harry. Don't look like I just told you that I'm pregnant."

"RAE."

"You're so gullible."

He was so gullible, that he believed her when she said that it had been junk in the mail.

*

Light filtered through the lamp down stairs. Rae sat delicately on the couch legs folded as she cheered on her lip. Upstairs Harry was asleep, his snores just barely echoing down the stairs. Rae had trouble sleeping so she had slipped from bed and snuck downstairs.

In the kitchen, she had opened the drawer she had thrown the mail in and picked
up the unlabeled envelope. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. She knew that an unmarked envelope wasn't something she wanted to open in front of harry. So she saved it, thrown it in the drawer and ignored it, not imagining what it could have been.

Now, Rae was reading it. The script was thin and elegant just like she remembered it being. It wasn't hard to understand that it was Leon's hand writing. Even if she hasn't known it was Leon's writing, she would have got it from the simple paragraph that he had written. Short and to the point. Unlike most of the things he did.

You've made me angry. I don't like when people make me angry, as I hope you can understand. I'm sure you don't like to be angry. So if I were you I'd be careful when someone is angry with something I've done. You never know what they might do.

There was no signature. Just that. Unlike most other things he had done, it wasn't obnoxious. It didn't have his grandeur or his usual in your face torture.

Rae thought that was the point. To make her wonder why he was being simple, why he wasn't making a parade out of it. She figured that as much as she wanted to dwell on it, she shouldn't. He liked to scare people. Leon lived off fear, had built his empire on it. So Rae walked to the kitchen, turned on the skin and threw the paper in it, soaking the paper before turning on the garbage disposal.

Delicately, she turned off all the lights and walked back upstairs. Harry was still sound asleep, facing the ceiling, mouth slightly agape. He looked happy, so she slipped into bed, curling into his side. In his sleep he responded instantly, rolling and pulling her into his chest mumbling something as she
placed a kiss on his chest. In slumber, he smiled.

With his arms around her, she finally felt tired. Shutting her eyes, she let herself fall asleep.

It was the best sleep she'd had in weeks.

Until she heard something fall over downstairs. She jolted awaken sitting straight up in bed. Her movement made Harry start, looking up at her, green eyes glowing in the dark of the bedroom. He had heard it too, his eyes moving to the door as he strained his ear for a moment.

Getting up, he moved languidly from the bed and towards the door. Rae made a sound of protest but Harry waved her off, his shirtless figure moving out the bedroom.

Silent weighed down on Rae as she waited. She felt like her ears were ringing and her heart was pounding, the note flashing in her mind. It was going to make her sick with terror until Harry popped his head back in, shaking his head. "Trystan knocked over the coat rack in the hall. Louis is with her."

Rae breathed out a sigh of relief, letting herself fall backwards on the bed. Harry chuckled lightly, crawling like a feline onto the bed. He hovered over her, placing a kiss on her lips with a popping noise. "Scared me," she admired, trying to make out his features in the dark. He was grinning at her. "My big protector checked it all out though."

"Isn't that my job?"

"Nope. Your job is to cuddle the fuck out of me and help me go back to sleep."

He pondered that. "Or," he muttered, leaning down and pressing a hot kiss to her throat. "I can just exhaust you."

*

"You like tattoos, don't you?" Trystan asked, tracing the bird on Louis arm. Louis had many tattoos, all of which made him very beautiful. She had always liked them. And even since she met him, his collection had grown. Each were unique and wonderfully drawn. "You have a lot."

"I think they give me character," he smiled, watching her. His blue eyes were dark with sleep, watching her with interest. His eyes were the best in the morning, yet to catch all of the morning light. "You're tracing one that my mom and I got together."

She raised her brows. His mom did not seem like the type to have tattoos. In fact, she had to press her lips together in a firm line to force herself not to laugh at the thought. "Your mum has a tattoo?"

The side of his mouth quirked in a grin. "Yeah. She can be relaxed sometimes. Despite what it looks like, I love my parents. A lot. My mum the most, she always knows how to make me feel better."

Trystan nodded. Her mom was like that, and she loved her step dad. Her dad was okay too, but he could be difficult, when he was worried about his little girl. "That's sweet. I've always wanted a tattoo, but never had the bravery to get one."

"Yeah?" She nodded, smiling sheepishly. It was true she wanted a tattoo, but her aversion to needles were the reason she didn't even have her ears pierced until she got drunk one night and Rae forced her. "What do you want?"

"I really want the quote "Rome was not built in a day" on my ribs. Because its taken a really long time for my family to rebuild itself after my parents divorce. But like Rome, it took time to build, and now we are happy and were okay."

He nodded and then jumped up. She watched him, curious to his sudden movement as he got dressed. "Well come on," he laughed when she hasn't moved. "Let's go get your tattoo."

After a lot of coaxing, teasing and promises to hold her hand, Trystan found herself being led into Louis favorite tattoo parlor. It was a very clean place, with black and white interior to decorate it all, black drawing a covering the white walls. She felt that they were probably put their by hand, and it
impressed her.

Four chairs were in the parlor, three of them taken by customers under the gun. The buzzing filled her ears, but the sound of ACDC drowned out the sound that gave her shivers. She figured they played the music loud on purpose, for people with an aversion to the sound of needles that droned like hornets of death.

"Louis!" The man with the empty chair greeted, waving his hand. Louis grinned and walked up to him, hugging him in a very familiar matter. Trystan watched the two blankly. The man was not much older than them, and the same went for the two other boys and the woman. "Come back for some more ink, have you?"

"Actually," Louis said, craning his head to shoot Trystan a smirk, "I've brought my girlfriend to get one." Trystan's mouth went agape. Not because the tattoo, but because he had just called her his girlfriend. They had never put a title on it. Ever. "She's scared, though."

"Nah," the guy waved, shaking his head. "My names Gabe. Ill definitely take it easy on you, especially because your this fucker's bird."

Tentatively, Trys nodded and ended up in the chair; Gabe laying the stencil on her ribs. Louis sat in front of her, a smirk on his lips as she watched him.

"Girlfriend?"

His grin spread. "I like the word."

"Only if I get to call you my boyfriend."

He nodded. "Call me what you want. I'm yours."

Trystan quickly learned that the four people in the tattoo shops where three brothers and one sister. They had owned the shop together since they were 18 years old, and quickly climbed to the top of tattoo artists. Seeing there work, Trystan had to agree.

The girl was named Charlotte but they called her Charlie, the youngest brother next to her was Brand, and the oldest brother, Damon sat to Gabe.

Laying in the seat, Trystan took a deep breath. Gabe looked at her, waiting for the go ahead. Turning, she watched Louis give her an encouraging smile, reaching out and taking her hand in his. It was warm and gave her comfort, making her look at Gabe and smile.

And then she found out how bad getting a tattoo on your ribs hurt. Throughout the process, she clothed onto Louis' hand, taking in sharp breaths of air as the heat seared through her skin. And then she numbed out, only flinching when he wiped the blood.

Louis was always there, giving her smiles and talking to her. Charlie took her lunch break sitting with them too, talking to Trystan to get her mind off of it. She was thankful. Her fear died away with every curve of the script and new carve of the gun.

"Is it so bad?" Louis questioned, rolling his chair back and setting his chin on the chair by her face. She could see every detail of his face as he did that, eyes smiling at her. "Or am I just putting you through a world of pain."

"Well I guess I'm doing it because you're my boyfriend."

He rolled his eyes and she hissed as the needle hit a rib, carving into the skin. He rolled his eyes, kissing the top of her hand. His stubble tickled her hand. "Easy on that word."

"Never used it?"

"No I have. But I only use it when it means something. And it means something now."

Trystan fell silent again. She couldn't remember the last time a boy had called her his girlfriend. She went on a lot of dates and boys loved her, but they never wanted to date her. Trystan wasn't that kind of girl. And now Louis wanted to. Someone wanted her back. It was weird.

It wasn't that Trystan was a whore, or slept around. But she certainly didn't settle down. She felt like she was never good enough, like no one had ever really wanted her back the way she wanted other people. Outside of her family, Rae was the only person who had.
♠ ♠ ♠
GREECE. I LOVED YOU BUT I'M GLAD TO BE HOME AND UPLOADING THIS LONG AS FUCK CHAPTER THAT I WROTE ON MY PHONE. I'M BACK BITCHES AND I HOPE YOU MISSED ME???