030

        NEXT DAY, 9:09PM 

        He was cynically in love with being in charge, dominant over my recessive character. He was shredding the potential I had to be merely equal to his demanding genetics. I felt like I had to fight him every time to feel less inferior in his gaze, in his presence. 

        I just wanted him to feel frustration, anger. To the maximum. I'd have to be merciless, and I have quite the trouble masking my emotions, but it became easy just when I slammed the door and realized I told him to go fuck yourself. 

        I'm tired of going around in circles. I can't take much of it, not as much as he can. He couldn't have been more right when he insisted I was sensitive. I am, I won't lie. I tend to cry a lot in tough situations, in which others would not. But, I'm also very determined. 

        Harry was working since six in the morning today. He hadn't asked me for anything at all. In fact, we were not on speaking terms. Sounds very familiar. 

        In the bathroom, I stood in front of the mirror behind the sink. I wasn't going to ask him for anything either even if it were to satisfy my boredom.

        I wasn't going to "infuriate" him with nothing but questions he always said I would never get answers to. 

        And maybe that was for the better, as he said. We wouldn't establish anything or discuss, so I could go insane and he could effortlessly walk away without a care.

        As of right now, I had nothing better to do than fix my hair, make sure every inch of my body was smooth, and of course point out every single flaw I had. It was easy to state the things I hate rather than the things I liked. 

        But, like always, I wanted to bury that self-conscious trait of mine deep down where I won't make notice of it. Until this day, I wasn't thinking about how I looked or if my hair was frizzy. I was too busy getting chased by wanted criminals. 

        A hard knock startled me slightly. I snapped my head up to look at the door, my heart in my throat already. 

        "God, you've been in there for two hours, Catalina." Harry snapped angrily, and I could just see his vexed expression and the vein now prominent in his neck. 

        I forced my tongue to stop and my lips closed. So we would know I'm still inside and clearly alive, unfortunately for him, I purposely dropped a small bag of necessities to the floor. It made an audible noise I'm certain he heard. 

        But still, I said nothing when he knocked again and furiously threatened me. I was half naked, only a small piece of pink fabric covering me below the waist, but that was it. My topless, bra-less upper body would sure do the trick. 

        I swallowed any self-doubt I had about my body. It was more clear than anything that he was attracted to me physically, and if it hadn't been I'm sure I would have stumbled forward and opened that door to apologize. I won't this time. 

        "I swear I'll break down this fucking door, you little--" 

        With an angry frown, I turned up the water from the sink, the flow louder and much more audible than before. It made him stop talking, as he realized I was purposely trying to get him to shut up. 

        Very familiar, I thought to myself. 

        Harry seemed to walk away after that. I wanted to be oblivious to his anger and his gaze, or any contact and reference to him. He couldn't get his way, so I'm sure he's overly pissed off about it. 

        I took a short white silk robe from the hook behind the door, slipping it on and tying it around my waist. I planned to leave it tied this time. Unless Harry would be so highly tempted to untie it himself, which I would refuse only to frustrate him further. 

        When I opened the door, I walked out without a word or look slipping in Harry's direction. Peripheral vision allowed me to see that he was leaned back in his chair, angrily tossing a plastic, decorative ball up into the air and catching it with one hand. 

        I couldn't tell if he was looking at me, but from the tickling sensation behind my neck and the heated atmosphere that swept across my body in whole, I assured myself that he was. 

        I tried to carelessly walk to the kitchen. If I tried too hard, he would think it was laughable and it would make it easy for him to ignore me the same.

        With my jaw clenched, I opened the fridge and pulled out the pitcher of orange juice. I knew by the amount of food, Harry had gone out without me earlier today. When I turned back around, I caught a glimpse of Harry going into the bathroom.

        I sighed when I heard the door slam very loudly. The sound nearly echoed. He was angry, which I am very pleased with. It didn't take much to get him nearly breaking things in his way. 

        I stood by the counter with a faint smirk, leaning back against it and drinking the orange juice I poured into a glass cup from a cupboard. My faint smirk ceased when the door was open, revealing Harry as he fixed his belt. 

        My eyes averted to the pitcher I didn't put away yet. In trying to do so, I placed it in the fridge and closed it right afterwards. I was on my way to the bedroom, planning to slam the door shut when I heard Harry furiously call, "Catalina." 

        Ignoring his voice, I continued my path to the bedroom. I didn't want to be that meek girl that cried for nearly everything. Although I am, and I probably always will be, there was nothing wrong with turning the tables for once. 

        For just this little while. 

        I knew I was in massive trouble when I heard the wheels on the desk chair roll and his footsteps clearly follow behind mine. In terms of slamming the door shut, he strode forward and caught the door midway, walking in four seconds behind me. 

        "Dollface," he lowly started. Even though that nickname does things to me, I preferred not showing it. I stiffly walked to the dresser, shuffling through it to find what to wear. There was a soundless pause, until I nearly lost the strength in my legs to stand when both of his hands pressed against my hips. 

        With my heart in my throat, I struggled to keep composure. I was such a weak, fragile little thing I couldn't cope with even the touch of his hands. I tried to fight it, using my memories of the cruel words he used against me as encouragement. 

        I used every insult as fuel to be angry and ignore his intoxicating touch. If he wanted me to speak to him, he better start acting like it. 

        Pulling out jeans, I moved away from him and tossed the fabric onto the bed. I crossed the room to the closet, leaving him standing there with his hands through his hair in absolute frustration and baffled anger. 

        "Really," he breathed to himself, but I only heard it because he was already making his way to me again.  Once again, I felt his presence behind me, only inches apart. I inhaled quietly, looking through the closet to find a shirt that I thought was suitable.

        It is when I gazed down and found his hands grasping my hips, this time so tight they were determined to stay there, that I realized the sudden touch of his hard chest to my back. His hot breath ever so lightly fanned against the skin of my neck, and he purposely made sure I felt his lips graze the skin there. 

        I bit my tongue harshly to remind myself what my goal is. I could just tell he was clenching his jaw tightly, his pale green eyes waiting for the slight change in my stand to signal that he has gained control of me. 

        This time, however, I continued to search through the clothes until I found the shirt I wanted. As if he was never there, I went to turn around, but was surprised when Harry whipped the shirt from my hand and threw it to the floor. 

        He handled my smaller frame effortlessly. I was back to facing the closet, and he lowly snapped into my ear words that tinged my cheek with pink. Although I was still severely angry, and frustrated, I couldn't control the reactions my body had to him.

        "You're playing a game here that won't last very long on your part," he warned quietly, still filled with the same threatening vibe he had always carried along with him.

        I bit my tongue again in the desperate urge to stay quiet. 

        "Hm," he hummed softly, grazing his nose against my cheek. "You must be really pissed off with me if you're smart little ass isn't fighting me back." 

        Still, there was just silence. 

        "I'll make you talk." Harry squeezed my hips, and I could never have felt such a drop in my heart at his words. They were out of absolute shock; that this was happening in the first place. At the pit of my stomach, something churned. Something raw and aggressive. 

        I still forced myself to remain quiet. When his hands trailed up the smooth fabric of silk I had on, I shakily breathed in, but attempted to cover it up as a casualty. I can't believe he's doing this. He's doing everything he can to prove that he's, to put it in simpler terms, in control. 

        "I can see everything under that thin robe," he rasped against my skin. "Killing me, baby."

        My lips parted a centimeter, seconds away from opening my mouth and saying something I'd regret, but he beat me to it. "Isn't that what you wanted to hear? I'm opening up to you."

        I could hear the mocking in his voice, but the lust dripped within every word made his mockery tinted with flaw. 

        Touch. It intensified the feelings of everything. That has never been more true at the moment when his hands trailed up and I felt the memorable sensation of his large hands squeezing my breasts. My eyes lowered, my bottom lip nearly trembling as he latched his lips to neck. 

        Slow pecks were given to the warming skin, while he continued to torture my chest in his touch. And ever so lightly kiss down my jaw, until he nearly had his cheek touching with mine. 

        "How much more of this shit are you going to put me through?" Harry suddenly gnarled, squeezing areas down my body until his hands found the tied silk fabric in front. 

        My heart plummeted to my the ends of my stomach and I inhaled loudly this time. Unable to resist.

        "Hm, Dollface? How much longer will you do this to me? I know I deserve it, but you walking around in almost nothing fucks me up." Harry breathed. "I'm running out of patience. I'm only a man, and you know what men think with?" 

        When I didn't answer, he lowly snapped, "We think with our dicks. Awful way of putting, but it is true to the furthest extent. I'm tired of letting you prance around in nearly nothing. Sick of knowing you speak, but you're not moaning my name." 

        The words that left his mouth no longer filled with mockery, but honesty that was so raw I could feel myself reciprocating the emotions.

        "You are driving me insane, baby. So unfair to me. I tried keeping my distance, but how can I when you're pushing me like this?" He murmured, placing a kiss behind my ear, his fingers working the tied front of the robe.

        I grabbed his hand to stop him with both of mine, but he wrapped his fingers around my wrists and held them there tightly. 

        "You're only going to lose, and so am I, Catalina. Fucking so am I."

        "Harry, stop," I demanded with all the force I had left in me. 

        He let me turn around, only in his grip that he returned seconds later. I glared up at him as he peered down at me, visibly darkened green eyes watching me with absolute hate, want, and every other contradicting emotion that existed. 

        "You pull me in," Harry confessed, releasing my hips to run his hands through his hair in utter frustration. With a clenched jaw, he continued by saying, "I can't force you to let me go, because you always find a way to pull me back in. I fucking hate it. So much."

        Every breath I took was heavy, and every one I released shook my body.

        "You don't deserve shit from me," I snapped out. "Every time we were getting chased, I thought about you. No matter how screwed up you were to me. And I still think about you. When you got shot in the arm, I was hurt to see you in pain. You don't deserve my compassion, you dick."

        Harry stared at me, seeming like nothing in particular was fazing him, but I just knew he hid his emotions impressively well.

        "And what do I do about that?" He asked furiously. "Because I don't know! I don't know how I'm supposed to fucking act around you!" 

        "Treat me like you meant every promise you've made. Instead, apply it to yourself. Treat me like you're protecting me, like you...want nothing to happen to me. Treat me with care. Doesn't mean you have to care about me," I explained to him firmly. 

        I sighed heavily. "I'm sensitive, okay. I understand. But you know that, so don't be so rough with me." 

        I could see his face softening the slightest bit. Not as much as I wanted to, but he stopped clenching his jaw and reached for me, resting his hands on my waist. "I'm always aggressive, Dollface. It's my nature," he murmured lowly to me.

        His head leaned down, and I said, "I know. Which is why I will be less infuriating. Well, try." He was still frowning, breathing deeply from how fired up he was a minute ago. "Are you calming?" I asked him.

        "Not yet," he muttered, and then leaned down to give me a kiss.

        note// i'm so damn tired, you hoes brought me up to 600+ votes last chapter,

        so I'M UP UNTIL 3AM WRITING THIS AND I HAVE TO BE UP IN 3 HOURS.

        loll. fuck an education, am i right, ladies? (gents?? ;o)