002

I bent over my trunk in the moonlight, pulling out my luggage that I had brought with me as he usually instructs to bring luggage with me in case of emergency while I grumbled to myself beneath my breath. I'm annoyed, yes, but more upset that I'm leaving Mexico behind.

It was actually fun, living in the rich hills and the hot weather. The pool with new friends everyday, studying under the stars. I've lived in amazing places, but they never last. Some of my favorite places were luxurious, and others were quiet and small. But as long as I felt secured, there was no problem.

My luggage quickly became heavy for me, stumbling over them and falling on my butt to the concrete. "Ow," I murmured now highly irritated, huffing and standing up on my feet once again. There was a faint ache in my ass now, so I began rub the area with my hands to soothe the ache. 

When I turned around, a dark figure was standing three feet away from me. I gasped, eyes going wide before I let my eye vision focus on a smirking Harry. There was barely a smirk to begin with, but I could see it by the curve at the corner of his mouth. He must've been watching me the entire time. Didn't offer to help, didn't even ask if I was okay. Silently he stood there, staring at my face like the creepy man he is. I kept thinking why my father thinks this guy is such help to him. 

Bitter and still slightly stunned, I remarked, "What are you smirking at?" 

I thought he was going to speak finally after an entire day of silent protecting. He'd show up behind the bathroom door as I showered, sit on the couch playing with a pocket knife as I drank tea, and stand against a wall behind me as I made paper airplanes. He even watched study while he played with his lip ring. Or whenever I moved, he'd sit up to follow me. The only thing I allowed myself to do was to roll my eyes and hope these three days go by quickly. 

Groaning and rolling my eyes, I picked up my suitcases and walked towards the black truck with -- as anticipated -- him following behind me. I turned around, frowning and in pure annoyance, too. Harry stopped dead in his tracks, watching me with his boring stare. Yes, I'm glad he's trying to protect me, but there's no need to protect me from paper planes or hot tea. "Jesus, can you stop following me!?" I shrieked. 

He didn't react. He was almost emotionless. Every time I told him to go away, he'd stay in his place. I'd tell him to scatter, and he'll only smirk slyly. Or whenever I cursed at him, he stared with his jaw clenched. The only emotions he showed were negative ones, and I was getting really tired of it. He was so sexy, yes, but he showed little to no emotion with an unbearable silence and it drove me insane.

Harry stood there with his arms crossed, glancing at the back of the truck. He then took a few steps, opened it, and grabbed the suitcases. Carelessly, he flung them into the trunk and shut it forcefully. I squealed and took a step back at the sound, overwhelmed by the force he used to close it. Another thing was he's highly abrupt. Did things out of nowhere. 

For example, earlier today when he played with his pocket knife and I was drinking tea with a book before me, he threw the pocket knife in the air. As it soared, I screamed and it landed in the walls about five inches near my head. I swear I think he's trying to kill me rather than protect me. The fact that he had good aim was so hot, too. I'm having mixed emotions. I don't like his personality, but his looks are so delicious. This is where the phrase "what counts is in the inside" comes in. 

"You know, fragile things were in there, Harry!" I scolded him after a few seconds, following him as he walked inside. 

It took me a few seconds to fall into place with his steps. He had long legs that allowed him to take big strides and walk quite fast. As for me I was in wedges and I'm a bit tall, but nothing compared to Harry. 

We were inside as he walked in silence, and I was compelled to get him to apologize to me. "All you have to do is apologize for it. That's what a real man would do." 

For the first time, I heard him scoff. He turned the corner and opened a door, and I hurried behind him since we both couldn't go through the door. Once I did, I regretted it -- well not entirely. Harry reached the buttons on his button up, pulling it off his shoulders, and disposing of his shirt. All I could see were the muscles in his back contracting to every one of his moves, the tattoos reaching from his shoulders to the back of his neck. The smooth, lightly tanned skin there was untouched by an ink needle, leaving flawless skin in view. 

I gulped, eyes widening before he turned around. I tried to make a run for it, by my feet were glued to the door. Harry glanced over at me before removing the necklace he had on around his neck. He had two swallows on his hard chest, but that was about it. His arms were beautiful. Toned and inked with gorgeous flames or swirls of shapes and such. His stomach was hard and muscular, and I could see the deep v-line leading into his pants. 

My eyes looked up to his, and I saw the little smirk on his lips before he pointed to the door, sending me out of his room just as he was going to unbuckle his pants. I closed my mouth that I had no clue was open to begin with. He probably saw me swooning at the sight of his body. God, he was perfect. But an asshole at that, too.

I huffed, rolling my eyes. He thinks he can just not talk to me? We'll see about that. Eventually, he will need to use his words. As I sat down in the living area, I thought to myself maybe he was mute? Oh God, what if he doesn't speak and I've been getting mad at him all this time for something he can't control? I'm the asshole here if that's the case. But I doubt he's mute. My father would've told me. 

Ten minutes passed and I heard talking behind me. I turned a bit while sitting on the couch, seeing Harry and my father mumbling about things. When I saw Harry's lips move, I smirked. An eyebrow raised on my face. I had to strain my ears to hear, but I couldn't. They were all the way down the hall. I couldn't possibly hear what they were saying. Although I could hear the deep tones of each their voices. 

They were silent as they approached me. I watched them walk, earning two looks of no emotion from my father and Harry. I didn't know what it was with people here, giving me their attention only to stare and probably judge me based on the whole "typical blonde with hazel eyes". I'm actually not that mainstream. My roots are dark, and I dyed my hair a lighter color. Regardless, my father knows me very well, and he can tell when I'm up to no good. Right now all I want is some answers. 

I stood on my feet, preparing myself for another lecture. Harry just stood there, running a hand through his drying hair.

"Well, it's time for you both to get on the road." He announced. "Remember," he pointed his index finger at me, "Harry knows what's best for you. I gave him permission to use minimal force against you if you do not listen to his directions." 

My lips lightly parted at this. Harry gets to drag me around with force whenever he wants to. It seems like my dad has given Harry the "daddy" card, and now he can do what he wants. He has too much trust in a guy who almost threw a pocket knife into my skull, and only stared before he nudged it out of the wall. 

I nodded my head, sending him a faint smile as I was pulled into a hug. My father cares very much for me. That I understand. I just hate him for doing this to me. Although it's for my safety, I'm tired of being forced across the globe every two weeks. Without a doubt, I am still doing it for the peace of his mind. 

We bid our goodbyes and soon enough I was in the car, waiting for Harry to join the driver's seat. The inside was nice. Smooth, leathery seats. I didn't know what type of car this was because trust me I'm not a girl to look into cars. I grew up in the city and although a lot of people get trashed and labeled "spoiled, rich kid", I wouldn't call myself so. I've appreciated what I have in my life.

Instead of knowing my cars, I know the scientific periodic table of elements by heart. I can name every metal, metalloid, or liquid on it if you asked me. Instead of knowing how to cook, I can speak three different languages. Spanish, French, and Italian. I don't know how to properly clean a bathroom, but I know how to shoot a pistol. I don't know how to fix cabinet doors, but I can show you that I'm determined to learn how. That's always been me. I've had the urge to know almost everything, and with that urge comes a dangerous amount of curiosity. 

Harry took his seat, starting the car with the key as I clicked on my seat belt. I watched as he wrapped his long fingers around the steering wheel, leaving one hand on the gearshift lever, and leaning his elbow on the center console. I frowned, a little concerned he didn't do what everyone should do the first time they get into a car. 

"Why aren't you putting on your seat belt?" I asked softly, turning to look at him and trying to get a word out of him. He made me curious as to what his voice sounded like. I wanted to know why he wouldn't talk to me. He only stared a head, one hand on the steering wheel and his eyes too busy staring at the road. It felt like I was talking to a statue. "Please put on your seat belt." I urged. 

I wouldn't find it surprising if he thought I was annoying. But if I could get on his nerves -- I thought -- maybe he'd talk to me. "You know, we could get into a massive car crash and you'd die because you refuse to follow the law." It was ironic. He probably didn't working for my dad, anyway.

Harry continued to stare ahead, no amusement or any reaction at all towards what I just said. We were in the middle of the desert at night. There's one chance in fifty we'd get into a car crash if it didn't have to do with an animal. 

I sighed, looking out the window before I opened my mouth. "I like your eyes," I complimented politely, "They're a beautiful color."

He slid his tongue across his teeth, looking bored now. Oh. I was boring him to death. He's not exactly helping! I bit my bottom lip, saying the first thing that popped into my head. "I like old school hip-hop. The music now just isn't as good as it was before, you know?" I rambled. My goal wasn't to annoy him anymore, I just kept running my mouth for a sense of social interaction. 

"And you know what I hate? Taxi cabs. They always smell like dog. Have you noticed?" 

Two minutes later I was talking about Mexico.

"Mexico was so fun, at least as long as it lasted. I hope Texas is just as good or better." 

Harry glanced out his window, an eyebrow raised and he inhaled deeply and looked ahead once again. He moved around his jaw before clenching it like he was before. I stared at the side of his face, admiring how insanely hot he was. The piercing on his eyebrow brought a numb-like feeling to my knees, and I'd wish he'd talk to me for the time being in this car. We're going to be here for three days, stopping at places to get food and such. I just wanted to talk. There was nothing wrong with that. 

I scooted further down my seat, throwing my legs on the dashboard, finally having given up. I didn't have a phone because the last time I did, they tracked me using the GPS or every time a text or call was sent to me. My iPod was broken to pieces the day before and it my headphones didn't play music. I had nothing to use to distract myself. 

Only the silent company of Harry.

"I like your piercings, Harry. They're really nice. Dad would never let me get any," I informed him, turning my head to look at him, but he was still driving like he was the only one in the car. I made the mistake of reaching over, using my index finger to poke the piercing. Chuckles left me as I felt around his eyebrow, feeling his warm skin beneath my finger tips. 

My chuckles ceased when he turned to look at me, his stare nothing but quite scary. He wasn't frowning, but the more he stared at me with those intimidating green eyes, the more terrified I became. Frowning, I pulled my hand away slowly. He didn't detach his eyes from me until my hand was on my lap again. Then he continued -- still -- to drive quietly. 

I began to talk once more after three hours. "So, my favorite color is yellow. I'm guessing yours is black? You know, since you wear it so much. Not that it doesn't --"

Harry reached over for the radio, turning it up loudly until my voice faded away. A tune I didn't recognize broke out, and I felt my lips part. I'm a little offended, but I should have expected that. He raised his other hand to scratch the tip of his nose and then lay it at rest on the console again. 

Huffing, I reached over and turned off the radio. "That's a little rude," I sang softly. 

At this, Harry didn't react either. He only drove further into the night with still not having said anything and it's been three hours. "As I was saying, I think black looks really --" 

This time he reached over to the compartment on my side, opening it and pulling out a pistol. My breath hitched and I immediately closed my mouth. He forcefully shut the little compartment and held the pistol in his free hand. Feeling like this is a threat, I huffed. "What are you gonna do? Shoot me?" He wouldn't, especially when he's supposed to be protecting me. 

He removed the other hand on the steering as well. Seconds later, I heard the click, meaning he loaded the gun. Gulping, I was silent the rest of the night. 

A/N: on the side is basically the theme song for Catalina and Harry. Not a big fan of Justin Bieber but I love this acoustic version of Take You. Also a picture of what Catalina looks like, who is played by Nicola Peltz.

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