#god i want them to tell me to move forty boxes and build three shelves again 😭

[appleciders]

noooooope it is too early into this job for me to be dreading going to work

[hs-devote]

3. G E S T U R E

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

Previous chapter :

Y/N remembered the accident with Harry the other day, where she was robbed and Harry throwing some good punch to the robber. Then, she just realise that she didn't get any call from the police who was took some clarification from them. Until this time, the police never called her. If they did follow up on that case, her or Harry should have been asked to be willing to be witnesses, right?

3. GESTURE

Harry is back to the office. He looks better than yesterday, his good mood has returned, proven by he was smiling back to Y/N and Madeleine when he was arriving his floor then go straight to his office. Y/N was thinking to bring him a coffee for his nice gesture earlier. With a cup of his favourite Americano in her hand, she scanned her access card until the door open. Harry was signing whatever documents he sign when she walk in. His hand quickly signed every single documents piled on his desk. Y/N notice his cross tattoo in his backside hand, near the thumb. Makes her think Harry might be a religious person.

“Good morning, I bring you a coffee.” She smiled, closing the door. Harry lifted his head, giving his signature smile to his assistant. He leaned back, crossing his arms. “What occasion?”

“You just had rough days lately, so I think a cup of coffee will cheer you up.” She shrug, putting down the cup.

“Thank you.” He sigh, “I'm sorry for.. well, my bad behaviour these past few days. I know it was inappropriate, so I'm really sorry.”

“I understand, everyone had their bad days.”

Harry shake his head, “But still, I should have a total control over my temper. And oh, how's your wound? I didn't make it worse, did I?”

“Oh,” Y/N mumble, moving her arm. “It's getting better everyday. Maybe when I get back home, I can remove the patch. No need to worry.”

Suddenly, Harry's office phone ringing. He pick it up with the loudspeaker on, “Yes, Madeleine?”

“Mr. Styles, the Telegraph's team is here. Do you want me to send the to your office or meeting room?”

Harry glance at Y/N, raising his eyebrow – waiting for her answer. After all, she was the one who prepare the meeting. “They're supposed to be three people only, I've prepared a meeting room in the corner if you like.” Harry just nod, “Send them to the corner one. I'll meet them in five.”

“Right away, sir.”

Sipping half of his coffee, Harry smoothed his suit jacket and fixing his tie before getting up from his seat. Leading them both to meet the guests. Y/N smiled, letting him go first. Walking together with Harry, made Y/N feel this confident boost towards her body. It's like Harry transferring his confidence to her. She feels powerful next to Harry. As long as Y/N work together with him, Harry likes to give her encouragement, he was the one who builds trust in herself. Unlike the first time she felt insecure working together with him.

She thanks him for opening the door for her, letting her in first. There, three people already waiting. On the far left, sitting a bald man in his forties. Next to him, a young man with black jet hair. And the last, a beautiful, very beautiful –she thinks– woman in her burgundy attire, her strike blonde hair fell until her back.

Y/N greets all of them with firming hand shake. Offering refreshment at the table. Meanwhile, she could feel Harry stiffen in his place, right when he wants to shake the woman's hand. The atmosphere is a bit awkward, but he quickly get over it.

The woman with name Victoria, not saying much during the meeting. Y/N could say, she just staring at Harry for the whole time. She bet Victoria didn't listen at all, the way she stutter when the bald man, Mr. Gogh, asked her one time – clearly prove it.

The meeting ended quickly, there was no serious discussion, just an introduction that Victoria will be the one who associated with Erskine, replacing the last in charge.  When everyone had left meeting room, in the corner of Y/N eyes, she saw Victoria entered Harry's office, while the man himself trailing behind her.

If they want to talk about the company, at least the other two man didn't go back first. Y/N assumed they both talked about something else. And she was sure, they already knew each other before from the way they act. Before Y/N taking step back to her office, her phone buzzed.

Messages– Now ; Harry Styles.

Could you do me a favour? Bring me hot chocolate, and a camomile tea for my guest.

Sure, coming in 5 mins. She text back, sprinting towards the break room.  Digging into the shelves, she take the Twinings box first, and Charbonnel et Walker later. Starting to make drinks and ready to deliver it. Y/N pushes the door open effortlessly since it wasn't locked. Harry beams at her, while Victoria in front of him throwing a death glare.

“Thank you, darling.” Harry said, sneaking his arm around her waist. His thumb drawing a circle in her side while Y/N putting down the drinks. Y/N just gave him small smile before excusing herself. For a moment, she was wondering why Harry was showing affection in front of Victoria, but she choose to shake it off.

“Is she the one?” Y/N could hear Victoria's snide comment when she was closing the door. With Harry's voice still dangling in the air, “Is it important to you for know?”

“I don't believe she has the courage to show up here.” Y/N hear Madeleine murmured under her breath,  while she gathering her stuff off in her desk. “Oh, hey Y/N. How's the meeting?” She asked, tucking her hair behind the ear.

“It's good. But it looks like Ms. Selley still has some business with Mr. Styles.”

“Victoria Selley? Oh no wonder. That snake always have her own way.” She scoffs, “Hey, do you want to grab lunch? I need to tell you something since the Telegraph's will be the one of the clients who like to visit.”

Y/N nods unsure, “Sure. Let me take my purse first.”

. . . .

“You have to be careful with Victoria Selley.” Madeleine spoke with her mouth munched her burger. Picking up her fries, Y/N looking at her cautiously “And why was that?”

Y/N isn't a big fan of fast food, but this time she decides an exception. Before Madeleine open her mouth, she choked on her food. Y/N give her a drink right away. Madeleine just laugh after sipping her coke, “I'm too excited. Victoria is not as nice as you saw. She's.. pretentious. Do you know her and Mr. Styles used to be dating?”

“No.”

“Yeah, they used to be dating, around a year ago for five months. She always bragged about it. She's kinda dumb, and her attitude is blah. I don't know why they split but I think Mr. Styles finally realised her bad behaviour. The one of many reasons I don't like her is.. she always bragging about their sex life – which I think it's private thing . How good he was in bed, how fast Mr. Styles can make her reach her orgasm.”

Y/N crinkles her face in disgust, her appetite gone instantly. “Okay, can we not talk about THAT thing? I feel.. nauseous.”

“Well, just imagine her and her wide mouth talking about it in front of the employees. But the worst part is when she came back after the split, trying to tempt him to have.. intercourse in his office.” She added, “The exciting part was when Mr. Styles barking at her, his voice heard up to several floors down. He dragged her ass out, throwing her underwear off. Amazing..”

“Underwear?!” Y/N shouts lowly in shock, she truly could feel her eyes about to pop out.

“Yeah, but I think they didn't do it. Maybe she sliding down her underwear before had the chance.” Madeleine muttered, “If I were her, I wouldn't have the face to come back, let alone meet him. It's surprising she works there.”

Y/N leans back, too much thing she should know today. “And why we are talking about this? I mean, their history wouldn't impact their work. They have to separate work and personal life, right?”

“I do believe in Mr. Styles, but not with Victoria. We won't know how smart she is if she will take advantage of  this situation.” Madeleine shrug, “I just hope we won't be fired for gossiping him.”

The food was delicious, they really want to stay longer but work couldn't wait. Their floor was quite was usual when they arrived. Mr. Styles' office is shut closed, the man himself is nowhere to be found. Y/N take the sign as he might be having lunch.

Stepping inside her office, she plopped down the seat. Turning on her screen and moved the cursor to downloading some emails, her eyes was set off to an invitation to a gala dinner in the next two weeks, obviously addressed to Harry Styles.

From: Bentley, Betty <b.b@britishchambers.org.uk> Subject : BCC Busines Dinner 2019 To: executive_asst@erskine.co.uk, hstyles@erskine.co.uk

British Chambers of Commerce proudly presents The Annual BCC Busines Gala Dinner

To Mr. Harry Styles and his plus one You are cordially invited to attend our annual BCC Business Gala Dinner 2019 Friday, June 14th  – 7 pm The Langham 1c Portland Place, Regent Street, London, GB W1B 1JA

RSVP to Joyce  44 (0) 20 7636 1000 or click here by June 10th

“Y/N?” Y/N flinched when someone call her name. It was Harry standing in her door, grinned sheepishly. She's blinking her eyes, “Yes, sir?”

“Did I shock you? I'm sorry. I just want to give this to you.” Harry handed her a bundle of document, and putting a small cute box from Lola's onto her desk, “That must be done in three days”

“Well noted, sir.” She take them and make a quick glance of it. “And, this?” while pointing to the box, when she saw it, she immediately knew that it was cupcakes.

“When I drove back here, I saw them and then remembered you. So.. yeah.” He said while scratching his neck, avoiding eye contact with Y/N. “Besides, I was happy because the Commonwealth thing is doing well after all, nothing to worry about. Lucas told me we possibly win the bid.”

“Ah, that's great. Thank you for the cupcakes, anyway.” Y/N smiles, “Actually, sir. The council of British Chambers just sent you an invitation to their annual Gala Dinner two weeks from now. Do you want to come? I have to send your reservation and the plus one immediately.”

“Err, yeah. Of course. Put my name and yours for the reservation, please.” He nodded, staring deep directly at her eyes. His words makes Y/N stop typing, “Pardon?”

“I don't have anyone, you know? So, I think you will be a good companion, if you don't mind.”

Y/N stunned for a moment, didn’t expect Harry would invite her. “Oh, of course, I won't. I am very honoured, thank you.”

Harry just winked at her. Y/N giggling right after closing her door, never think would be attending such an exclusive event with her boss. She's blushing when she remembered the way Harry wink her.

. . . .

For years her life, Y/N never been dreaming she could get amazing things at the age of twenty-two. Maybe for some people, at the age of her, there are more people with better achievement than her. But for Y/N, she's already grateful to be at this point. Maybe, maybe if she try even harder, who knows in a few years she will earn highest job. Not coming from a rich family, little Y/N was struggling to  reach her goals. Experiencing a childhood nothing like any other child had, Y/N had to still protect herself. Showing everyone that she can.

Especially to her big family, who always throwing snide words toward her family.

Even the grandparents always dragging her father whose jobs were not as high as those of her uncles. Sometimes, her older brother, Connor, has to against their words, and end up with him locked up in his room.

Until someday, when all families gathered together at Easter, Y/N was proud to announce that she was accepted into King's College Business Management programme with full scholarship. Ended everyone with mouth hanging open. Three years later, she got her degree with honour.

Her father is regular employee at local publishing house, while her dear mother is stay at home mum. Connor himself, being paramedics in NHS.

Lurking around her apartment barefoot, Y/N couldn't find the cheese block that would be use to cook dinner. She decided to go out to buy the cheese, and doing a little grocery shopping. After all, the grocery just down the road.

The cold night welcoming her when she pushed the door of her apartment building. Not many people outside, she walk slowly with both hands in the pockets. A few step to the grocery, she feels like someone follow her behind. She had to look back a few times, but no one to be found.

Taking a few cheese blocks, some late night snacks, and the others essentials, Y/N hurried back home. To be fair she still feel being followed and it scares her. Passing the end of the road, she hear a faint groan. Goosebumps getting on her. She wants to leave but that voice.. asking for a help. Venturing herself, she walk into the dark alley where the voice came. Her step stopped, seeing someone lying on the ground, clutching his neck. In front of him, a man standing tall. Slowly, very carefully, Y/N step closer. Her hand covering her mouth, the lying man was strangled with a belt around his neck. His voice become clearer and heartbreaking, as the belt became tighter in his neck. He begged forgiveness from the person who strangled him.

Y/N heart dropped when the culprit – was wearing all black – , turn his head towards her. Their eyes collided with each other. And there, her breath stopped. The pair eyes she stared at, it's Harry's.

She run as fast as she could. All the thing she know is to run as fast as possible. She couldn't process what she just saw. Slamming her door closed, Y/N make sure to locked it securely. Her panting breath is all she could hear. Those eyes. Darker green irises belongs to Harry, that she usually see when he was in anger. It's belong to him, isn't it?

She couldn't be one hundred percent sure. Half of his face was blocked by darkness, the rings that was Harry's usual essentials, she couldn't find them on his fingers. All she can recognise was.. the eyes.

If that's really him, what was he doing there? And most importantly, why did he do that?

“No.. no. That's not Harry. That's not him. Your eyes just playing tricks on you, Y/N. It can't be Harry.” Y/N murmurs to herself. After all, there's so much people have dark green eyes, right?

. . . .

During the meeting that day, Y/N's mind wandered everywhere. Still thinking about what happened last night. Harry even had to called her out several times for being caught spacing out, not paying attention at all. He didn't look angry, but was worried.

“Are you okay? You were spacing out.” Harry asked after the participants left the room.

“I'm so sorry about that. I'm fine.” Y/N assured, her hands playing with her pen. As in disbelief, Harry moved his chair closer, looking at his assistant closely, “Are you sure? Your face is pale, you know.”

Y/N gulped, her sweating palm stroking her thigh. “Yeah, just.. just having a lot of thoughts.”

She encourage herself to slowly looking at him, just want to convinced her mind that .. the man from last night, was not her boss. The eyes she was looking at this time, are bright green irises. The greenest she's ever seen, sparkling, looking like heaven. The more she looks into his eyes, the more she dragged into.

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” She's not consciously whispered.

“Yeah?”

She nods in agreement, “Mmhm.” Keeping the eye contact, Harry's finger caressing her cheek. Delicately, down to her lips. In her daydream, she saw those eyes first thing in the morning when she open her eyes from sleep. Then the eyes turn darker along with Harry's sinister laugh echoed her ears.

Jumbling in her spot, she moved away. Y/N could feel her face redden. “I'm sorry, I don't mean to.. I think I need a drink.”

“I think you should go home, Y/N.” The void emotion in his voice, make her heartbeat quicken. Her feelings become null, “No no, I'm sorry Mr. Styles–  I'm promise I won't do it again. Let me get my tasks done. They should be ready by tomorrow –”

“Y/N. It's fine. You're pale, and you're sweating, you have to rest well enough. I'm sorry for getting you overworked. The papers can wait. After all, they agreed to change the contract. I will ask Ethan to re-done it, he was the one who drew up at the first. It's okay, Y/N. I'm not angry. I'll be more upset if you fell sick.” He give her reassuring smile.

“I'm fine, Mr. Styles. Really. I just need a drink, and rest a bit. And I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Don't worry.”

“All right, you can go rest and come back whenever you can. Need me buy you certain medicine?”

Y/N shake her head slowly, getting up from her seat. “Thank you.” Turning her back, she walk out from the room. From that moment, she just knew that the dark eyes last night, was not Harry's. She choose to going to the break room instead of her office, imagine of a glass of fresh juice making her drool. Good things, the are several choices of fruits there, she would go with the guava.

“Hey, what's wrong. You were spacing out for five minutes straight?” Madeleine pat Y/N shoulder, taking a stool next to her. When she was walking into the break room, she saw her co-worker sitting alone with hands twisting her half empty glass.

“Um, no. I'm fine, just.. having minor headache. Mr. Styles dismissed my presence for a couple hours ahead, I think?” Y/N spoke unsure. Madeleine giving her questionable look, “Really?”

“Apparently he thought he made me overworked because I was spacing out in the meeting.”

“Why not lay on the couch. As long as his guests doesn't see it.. he won't be mad.”

“My headache it's not that big deal, it's just I have this assumption running around my head. All I have to do is.. clear my mind.”

“If it's because of work, you don't have to be too rigid, let a loose. Have a little fun if you have time. Mr. Styles once told me that, working in here you are required to do everything right, but don't be stressed. If not, in a short time you will have this feeling that you can't stand this.”

Y/N was speechless, never thought Madeleine could talk like that. “Very nice of him, but actually it's not about a job or working here.. It's –”

“Oh, so this is about someone. Isn't it? Do I know him?” Madeleine squeals, grinning like a fool.

“How can you be sure it's about a person? Let alone a male?”

“If a female spacing out in her work, fifty percent of surveys proves it is due to male problems.”

“And how do I know the validity of them?”

“Because,  you're now talking directly with the surveyors.”

Y/N scoffs, “I think you need go to back, you know. Mr. Styles will be pissed if he knows you weren't on your desk.”

“Well, he left fifteen minutes ago. He just said to keep an eye for you while he was away. I think he headed to some expensive – well known brand designer galleries. He was in call, talking about measurement and gala next week.”

“I didn't know someone busy like him took the time to come there, he could have told them to come to him.”

“I think he wants to surprise his date. Keeping all secrets. Who knows?” Madeleine shrug, chugging her milk. Y/N turning her head, “A date?”

“My cousin is one of the organizer, and she spill the tea that.. his reservation inclusive his plus one. She doesn't want to tell me who, but she said this is the first time he will come with date for the past three years. He'd always come alone by himself, even when he had a girlfriend. He wouldn't do that.”

“Not even his past assistant? I mean, they obviously would fit into conversation.”

“Nope.” She said, “I remember one day when he was dating Victoria, she begged to accompany him. But he declined. Said it wasn't suitable for her and she would not understand if he chatted about the business. Don't asking me why I knew, because she was begging in the lobby.”

“Well, I will go back to my desk. Have a nice rest. Just don't fall asleep in here, I can't carry you if Mr. Styles hasn't returned yet.” Both of them laughing, Y/N giving her a thumb. Suddenly, her phone ringing.

Mum

“Hi, mum? How are you?” Y/N greets her mother with smile.

“Hi, pet. How are you? How is London?”

“I'm good. London is great. How are you and dad doing? Everything OK?”

“Yeah, we are fine. Just missing you and Connor at all. Any plan to come home in the near future?”

“I wish I have. If I want to, I have to ask Connor too. But I'll figured it out. Have to find the right time with C.”

“Ah, I see. Sometimes I just think why don't you live with Connor? You both live in London. Now, I think that you two barely talk to each other.”

Y/N laugh, “Mum, you know that he's not really live in London, Watford to London will take fifty minutes. I can't live that far from my office, besides he's living with his friends. There's no way I live with them. But yeah, the last time I talk to him was like.. two weeks ago? He's very busy with his job.”

“I just don't like to know my baby living alone by herself.”

“Well, half my life I spent in London. I mean, when I was in college, I stayed in London. Now, I move to London again.”

“Yes, it's like your success is all in London.”

The rest conversation is a good talk with her mother, not a lie it sometimes make Y/N homesick, and almost make her wants to cry for holding her longing of her parents.

“All right pet, I have to hang up. Not want disturb your work.”

“It's all right, mum. Promise.”

“Good then, good bye pet. I love you.”

“I love you, mum. Tell dad I love him too!”

“Will do.”

. . . .

Friday the 14th.

4.15 pm

“I will send my driver to pick you up around 6, is that all right? I will text his name and the number plate, so you don't get the wrong car.” Harry said while his finger pressing the lift button.

“It's okay. I'll make sure he won't wait too long.”

“Take your time. It doesn't matter if we are a little late.” Harry ensured that Y/N going home on time that day so she could prepare for the Gala. He also even gave not too much assignments. The lift ride didn't take too long until the door open when reached the lobby. The lobby in main building was not  too crowded by people. Only a few employees are seen going to home.

“Later, darling.” He smiled while patting her head. Leaving Y/N stunned in her spot. Luckily there were only two of them in the lift, no one caught them. If there was even one person, someone would have started the gossip. Before falling to another spacing out, Y/N hurried out. Wanting to get home quickly.

Thirty minute-ish ride to home, Y/N urgently placing her bag carelessly along with her heels. Pulling her towel, she rushed to take a shower. She made sure her teeth were clean and her breath didn't smell. She even shaved! Well, she want to look presentable for Harry of course.

For this special occasion, Y/N pulled all black attire. Her choice fall on black spaghetti strap dress. Backless with split side open, showing off her back and long legs. She finishing her look with light make up, and simple hair bun. She just hope she looks appropriate for this such an event.

Strike at 6, her phone buzzing. Mr. Grint, her chauffeur tonight, letting her know that he just arrived and will wait outside her building. Glancing at the number plate on the screen, Y/N lock her door and remembering the number along the way.

LF19 EYD

Her eyes were fixed on a black Tesla a few meters in front of her after closing the door entrance of her building. Someone appeared from the driver's door, looking dapper with grey attire. He opened the passenger door with kind gesture, he must be Mr. Grint.

“Ms. Y/L/N? Good evening. Mr. Styles is waiting for you.”

“That's me. Thank you, Mr. Grint.”

He closed the door for her the walking to driver's seat. Y/N glance around, admiring the interior for a bit. She wonder how many expensive cars Harry's has – well she's sure this is one of the many he has.

“Do you want to drink? I have some cold drinks if you want.” He ask calmly, his eyes fixated on the road.

“No, thank you Mr. Grint.”

“I'll drive you to his house first, then you and Mr. Styles will go together.”

“Oh, I thought I'll meet him at the hotel?”

“No, ma'am. That would be silly if you both arrive separately, right?”

The car stopped after forty minutes drive at very fancy building in Chelsea Waterfront. The cool air hit Y/N's face immediately right after Mr. Grint helped her open the passenger door. Her eyes could see the Thames and the shimmering light across the infamous river.

“I'll escort you to his penthouse.”

Y/N trailed behind Mr. Grint, walking to the West Tower, the highest residential building in the complex. Some of receptionist staff in the lobby greeting both of them before going upstairs by lift. Mr. Grint pressing the 31st button, Y/N assumed that where Harry's floor. Reaching the floor wasn't take too long, until the door open, two large oak doors welcome her on the left.

“Suzanne, it's me.” Mr. Grint talking to the intercom after pressing doorbell. In thirty seconds, a not so old lady show up behind the door, smiling warmly with wrinkles in her eyes,“You must be Ms. Y/L/N. I'm Suzanne.”

Y/N nods, “Good evening, ma'am.”

Mr. Grint excusing himself before Y/N gets in, disappearing behind the lift. Suzanne open the door wider, letting her in. “Have a seat, darling. Harry's getting ready, should I make you a drink while waiting? God knows how long he dressed up.”

She smiles, clutching her purse. “No, I'm fine.”

“Right, I'll clean the kitchen. If you need something, just call my name.” Suzanne grinned, waltzing to the kitchen. Taking the seat in front of large glass door, Y/N could see clearly London night panoramic, before looking around Harry's massive penthouse in awe. How much cost this place spent?

Ten minutes passed, Y/N heard key jiggles behind her with approaching footsteps. She turn back, finding Harry was talking to Suzanne, seems unaware of her presence. From this far distance, she can smell his perfume. A fresh smell that she's unfamiliar with. The perfume is rich in spicy smell, but sweet with vanilla and a bit cocoa.

“Y/N?” Too engrossed in enjoying his perfume scent, she didn't realise that Harry was standing beside her. The scent going strong. So sexy, so soothing. Strong reminiscent of an English gentlemen's club.

“Hi, Harry.” Smiling, her hand smoothed her dress while getting up from couch. His look tonight was something else. Harry opted for fitted black suit with a striped white t-shirt which sat low, flashing his toned chest and ink. The cross necklace dangling around his neck.  He also donned a pair of maroon shoes with a gold buckle on the front for the event.

Harry was spacing out for a second, adoring this beauty in front of him. The delicate of her collarbone, the perfect dress suited her body, and her legs showing from the split.

“Did you wait long? I didn't hear you come, well couldn't find my key either.”

“No, no problem. I just got here.” She ensures him with small smile.

“Are you ready? Shall we get going now?”

“We shall.”

“C'mon.” He murmured, placing his palm behind her bare back. Lead her out.

“You look beautiful. I like your dress.” Harry said as the lift door closed, going down slowly.

“Thank you, you look astounding.” She smiling shyly with red face.

“In a good way?” He teased, coming by laughter from her. “In a handsome way possible.” The lift stops when the screen show an underground parking area. But Harry didn't stop at one of the cars, stepping further until they arrive in private area with sign showing 311, his penthouse number.

Well, he has his own parking spot for.. his five fancy cars, Y/N count. Not including the Tesla earlier. He stopped at a black Audi TT. Unlocking it doors, Harry opened the passenger door for Y/N. “Watch your skirt.”

“Thanks.”

Thirty minutes drive, they spent with light chatting. Sometimes singing along together of whatever music played. The conversation make them get to know each other. Y/N talked about her college live, letting Harry know that she had lived in London before. While Harry talk about his application was declined by one of Ivy League universities for his bachelor admission, so he stuck in England for that reason. But Stanford accept his application for his master programme.

Drop off area was crowded by new arrived guests. But the valet quickly approaching the car to help Harry park his car. Seeing blinding lights from a few photographers lined up along the entrance, making Y/N's stomach churn. Sensing her discomfort, Harry squeezed her clothed thigh, “Don't be nervous. This is just dinner after all, nothing to worry about. C'mon.”

Y/N exhaled as Harry stepping out from his seat, then quickly opening her door. She grab Harry's hand as he once stretch out for her to take. Harry gently put his hand on her waist, lead her in. Some men and women greet them when they entered the grand ballroom, wishing them a pleasant night. Before they get the chance to go to their table, the one and only Victoria Selley, bright and radiant in her lilac dress, walking to them with a glass of wine in her hand.

“Hi, Harry.” She smiled sweetly, and turn bitter towards Y/N. “Well, hello there. I don't know if you are invited?”

Ouch.

“Evening, Victoria. I don't know either if you are supposedly invited. Let's get our table, love.” Harry murmured, taking Y/N hand and looking for their table with help of the staff. Once he found it, he pulled a seat for her. The other four seat still vacant.

The magnificent  of the hotel and the decoration amazed her. Seeing the crystal chandeliers, the waiters passing by with dapper uniform, some women with diamonds in their bodies, she instantly knew that this was not a regular event. She could see the staff organizers help other guests find their seats – don't want to give the impression of being unprofessional.

When she sees Harry, she can say that this is his nature. Surrounded by professionalism, luxuries, a prestige.

“You look pissed with Victoria.” Y/N asks, then thanking waiter for filling up her drink. He shrugged, “She's still bad person from the last time I met her.”

“So, you already know her?” She ask curiously.

“We kinda.. had a story together. But not quite pleasant way. That's why, if you noticed the day we had meeting with her, I kinda shock. Never think will meet her again.”

“She must be horrible girlfriend at that time if you said that. Not shocking. I don't like her too.” Y/N murmurs, her gaze was divided between Harry and the host who just started the event.

Harry chuckle, his dimples on full force. He didn't denied the girlfriend thing. He talk about her openly like it's nothing, nowadays not many people still want to discuss their ex-lover, most of them would shut the question immediately. “Why?”

“You could see the true colour of people from the way talk. As easy as that.”

“Harry?”

A male voice interrupted their talk while sitting next to Harry. A man who seemed to be the same age as Harry, his ocean blue eyes piercing from the glasses he wears. Harry grinned, giving the man a bro hug.

“Hey, Niall. What are you doing here, mate?”

That Niall guy giving him his one million dollar smile, “Eh, representing the hospital council. No biggie.” His deep accent catch Y/N's attention. He doesn't sound like Brits. “Are you coming yourself?”

“Well, not this time. Y/N, this is Niall Horan – my best friend, he works for Nuffield Health. And Niall, this is Y/N.” Harry introduce the two. Niall smiled, shaking Y/N's hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Niall.”

“Did I miss something? The traffic is quite shit tonight.” Niall ask. Harry shake his head, “Not at all. The council just delivered a speech.”

“Oh, Harold. When will you schedule the next session? You just said that it might get worse. Should I give you additional prescription until you get your shit together?”

Niall's words caught her off guards. She doesn't misheard that, does she? Prescription? Is Harry sick? But he looks fine. While Niall stared at Harry questioningly, Harry just froze at his seat, while shooting a glare to his friends. But seems Niall doesn't understand.

“You're sick Harry?” Y/N asks slowly. “No, no darling. I'm fine.” He answered, but Y/N could sense uncertainty in his voice. Niall widened his eyes, understanding this situation. “He just need his vitamins and supplements, nothing to worry. You know he's very busy man.” He added.

“By the way, thank you for the donation, Harry. It really helps the hospital, you know.” Niall change the subject, “Erskine still hold the highest donors position to Nuffield, not surprised.”

“Ah, it's nothing than the company's revenue tho. As long as we can, why not?”

“So, you work as a doctor, Niall?” Y/N try to join the conversation. Niall looks like a nice person to talk to.

“He's one of the doctors at Guildford Hospital, if you want to consult with him, you must make a special appointment. Very busy doctor.” Harry teases, with a laughter coming from Niall, “Hey, don't be like that! But yes, my job every day is examine patients.”

Their conversation was interrupted when waiters offering the main course – indicates the council's speech is over. Niall jokingly ask to them if he could have all they have to offer. Harry shoves his shoulder immediately. “Watch your calories, I don't want you to confide to me if you gain excess weight!”

Y/N laughs, they seem really best friends from the way they were joking, even she can comfortably talk to both of them like old friends. Dishes was fantastic, the ambiance really makes Y/N do not want to leave, could stay a night in their hotel room if she could. She's sure will spend a lot of money if she wants to treat herself here.

“All right, Harry. See you later! Don't forget to call me right away.” Niall hug him before heading out, the event end ten minutes ago but the three of them too engrossed in conversation.

“Sure, drive safe mate!”

“See ya later, love.” It's his turn now to hug Y/N in friendly way. She smiled, “Bye, Niall. It was nice to meet you.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. You both look cute together.” He winks, grabbing his suit jacket in his chair, then heading out. Both Harry and Y/N just chuckled, waving their hand to Niall.

“He's nice.” Y/N mumbled, taking her purse off the table.

“The most easy going lad I've ever met.” Harry nodded, while leading her out. “C'mon.”

“Hey, Harry!” Someone shouted when they were waiting for Harry's car from the valet. Harry pretended not to hear, but Y/N patted his shoulder . Her eyes on someone who was approaching them. A tall man dressed in velvet green tux, grinning with his arms open wide. Y/N could see Harry's facial expression change.

“Hey, I didn't see you earlier. Where were you hiding?” This man spoke in sneering tone, both his hands in pockets.

“What do you want Dale?” Harry ask lowly, his eyes ignored the man he called with Dale. Dale smirked, eyes seeing a woman next to Harry.

“I don't know you've got new girl here, the media hasn't reported anything yet. Feeling just yesterday that I saw you in a magazine on steamy vacation with a model. What's the name?”

“Dale, if you want to talk a gibberish like that. I'll never ever listen to your bullshit.” Harry growled, staring to glare at Dale. Y/N doesn't know what happened between them. Never meet let alone hear his name before. Seems Harry was having bad blood with this guy from the way he talk to him.

Dale ignore Harry, he instead coming closer to Y/N. His fingers inappropriately touching her chin, “Hello, beauty. What's your name?”

Before Y/N could respond, Harry quickly pulled her behind him. His hand grabbing Dale's lapels. Y/N gasps, swiftly trying to separate them. Fortunately, there aren't many people here, only a few who were busy with their own business.

“Harry, don't.” She begs, her hand on his waist and the other hold his shoulder.

“Don't touch her with your grimy hands. Who do you think you are?” He fumed. In a blinking eyes, his eyes grow darker, hands still on lapels, his veins poking out.

“Well, I think you keep her because she's good in pleasing you in bed, doesn't she? You have never been like this before with your.. whore.”

“Harry!”

His fist punched Dale's face along with Y/N's shrieking. Dale's fell to the floor, with Harry keep giving him some good punches on the face. Some people watching with curiosity.

“Harry, no – please!” Y/N's hands trying as hard to separate them. She could see Dale's swollen face, but Harry's hand look fine. Like he didn't do anything.

“Let's go, H. He doesn't deserve your attention.” She murmurs, rubbing his chest to calm him down. Sneaking his arm around her waist, Harry lead Y/N to his waiting car.

“Calm yourself or let me drive this beauty. We don't want to drive in anger, do we?” Y/N ask cheekily, trying to soften atmosphere because she still could feel Harry's panting breath. He said nothing while snatch the key from valet, walk quickly to the driver's side. Y/N huffed, smiling apologetically to the valet.

Silence fill the air during the drive, making Y/N a little worried. Even Harry doesn't turn on music as usual. Her worries getting worse when Harry start driving recklessly.

“Harry..” She try to call him, looked at him carefully.

No response.

“Harry, you're scaring me right now.”

His expression still raged, eyes on the road, knuckles hard on the wheel. He was silent like he's only one in the car, like she was not there.

“Jesus, Harry!” Tires screeching loudly when he hit the brakes in sudden motion. Y/N body was pushed forward, but held back by the safety belt. Y/N breathless for a second. Before she wants to throw a tantrum to Harry, she realised he was avoided another speeding car by getting out of the way.

Harry rest his forehead on the wheel, with his hands gripping tightly.

“Harry, it's okay.” She squeak, her hand rubbing his shoulder slowly, fingers feeling his stiff muscles. Slowly, stroking his hair, “Do you.. do you want to talk about what happened.. earlier?”

Five minutes passed until Harry open his mouth, “You know Machtig?” head still on the wheel. Keep stroking his hair, Y/N nods “You once told me before.”

“That fucker is working for Machtig. He was a friend from my school's day. And I.. I really.. really don't like him because of what he did to me years ago – even now. Seeing his face made me sick.” His deep voice spoke quickly, unlike he does usually.

“But,” Now, Harry lifted his head. Staring deeply at her, still with dark irises. “He's one of the people who made a Harry Styles like this.”

Y/N frowned, “You told me, Machtig was sold by your father's friend, didn't you? Is he related?”

Harry laughed, leaning his head on headrest. “I don't want to know. Not my fucking business. Every time Erskine was invited to a bid, Machtig always come along with that piece of shit as the negotiator.”

“I just hope that accident earlier wasn't taken advantage by him.”

“Don't fucking care.” He hissed, fingers tapping on the wheel. Then, his eyes bored into hers. Y/N start to feel awkward when he's hesitant to break his eye contact. “What's wrong, Harry?”

“You're so beautiful.” He whispered, thumbs stroking her cheeks.. then jaw.

“Thank.. you?” She stammered.

“He's very.. very lucky.”

He?

Harry's finger still wandering around her face, thumbs caressing her lips slowly. The air started to feel getting more intense, while Y/N began to be allured by Harry's soft touch. He slowly leaned in, pulling her chin until his lips touch hers. Y/N froze, eyes blinking. His hand cupped her jaw while the other still on her chin. She slowly closed her eyes, kissing him back, trusting him. It's getting way too intense while her arms grabbed his neck, deepening the kiss.

Harry bit her lips with hand rubbing her exposed thigh wildly. Y/N let out a soft moan when Harry was stroking her inner thigh, another hand caressing her bare back.

The car feel so hot as well as their body. One thing they knew, this could be lead to another way.

.

.

[loveburnsbrighter]

Live In Your Heart

requested by @i-dont-even-effing-know-anymore. hope you enjoy! 💕

read it on ao3

"We're not setting up the wifi yet," Patrick says.  He's got his Stern Face on, which usually means fun things, but sometimes, unfortunately, means that David will be required to do work.  This seems to be one of those times.

"But babe," he says, wheedling, "how will I order pizza if I don't have wifi?"  He brandishes his phone. "I ran out of data in New York last week." He went with Alexis to help her settle in — it's been a strain, her moving right before he and Patrick were set to, and he's frankly exhausted, physically and emotionally.  "We promised Stevie pizza," he adds, as if he can convince Patrick that his motivation is purely selfless.

Patrick plucks the phone right out of his hand.  "I'll call them," he says. "You remember, how we ordered pizza back in the nineties?  By calling?"

"Ugh, don't remind me."  David leans back against a towering stack of boxes, ignoring Patrick's pained look, and sighs heavily.  "Alright, fine. We might as well get this done. Bedroom first, or kitchen?"

"We can put Stevie on kitchen duty when she gets here," Patrick says.  "Bedroom now." He pauses for a moment, and then smiles slowly, like he can't help it.  "Our bedroom," he says, and David wouldn't generally describe Patrick as a particularly jovial person, but he looks downright giddy.

David honestly can't blame him, feels that a little bit too, at the words.  He's spent a lot of time at Patrick's place, and for the last month or so he's lived there fully, barring his four days in New York with Alexis.  But it was still Patrick's place, no matter how at-home David made himself there.  (Very.)  

This is their place.  David and Patrick's home.  David and Patrick's bedroom.

"Our bedroom," he agrees, and grabs a box, following Patrick down the hall.

Their bedroom is, thus far, more or less a big empty cube.  There's a weird alcove with the window in it that Patrick has been insisting he wants a window seat for, and the master bathroom door is on the wall kitty-corner to the bedroom door.  David has been pleased (thrilled) to note that the whole thing comes with a lovely little walk-in closet; it's not huge, but it's easily three or four times the size of the closet back in Patrick's studio.

The movers brought in Patrick's bed yesterday and set it up against the far wall, and David and Patrick slept on the mattress on the floor at Patrick's place.  "Okay, first things's first," David says, dropping his box in the middle of the floor. Patrick pointedly pushes it against a wall, and David ignores him. "Where are the sheets?  Because we can not sleep on dirty sheets our first night in the new house, Patrick."

"Actually," Patrick says, "about that."  He's barely trying to hide a shit-eating grin, and it makes David immediately wary.

"What," he says heavily.

"Okay, don't be mad," Patrick says, which tells David that he probably should be, "I should have talked to you probably but I wanted it to be a surprise," and he rushes through the words to keep David from interrupting.  "I used all the money my grandparents gave us for our wedding and bought that flax-linen Pottery Barn set you wanted." 

David gasps, because he has wanted that bed set so badly — fair trade linens in gorgeous soft sandy beige — but Patrick has insisted every time David has argued that it's frivolous to spend more than a hundred dollars on sheets.  Their current sheets are from Target.  "Like, the sheets —"

"The whole bed set," Patrick says, looking inordinately pleased with himself.  "The sheets, the duvet and shams — I didn't get the dust ruffle because my bed frame —" But David doesn't get to hear about the dust ruffle because he's quite literally launching himself into Patrick's arms and kissing him. 

Patrick makes a soft, surprised noise, not quite a laugh, and lifts his hands to hold David by the waist.  He pulls back just a little, letting David kiss down his jaw, to say, "So you're not mad?"

"Linen sheets," David mumbles against his Adam's apple.  He pulls back to smile down at Patrick, and Patrick is smiling back, radiant in a way that David never saw him before they got engaged, a way that he's seen more and more since they decided to buy the house.  "Okay," he says, schooling himself, because if they do what he wants to do — which is tackle Patrick onto the bare mattress in their empty bedroom and thoroughly christen the house — then they'll never get to all the things they have to do.  "Well, where are the new sheets, because they have to be washed before we can use them."

Patrick helps David wrestle the new bedding out of its insane packaging, and then builds a little fort in the tiny laundry room out of all the cardboard while David starts a load.  He's relieved every second that the previous owners left their washer and dryer — they're both done with public laundry for the foreseeable future.

They grab another box each to haul into the bedroom on the way back down the hall; the bed and dressers are there already, and a single bookcase.  David has already been in to clean the closet and repaper the shelves in there, and they've agreed that they don't want to paint the bedroom; it came a creamy off-white that feels warm and soft, somehow.

David puts on music — he's made a playlist just for this, full of high-energy, multigenerational pop, Tina and Britney and Mariah all sharing space.  At some point Patrick logged into their shared Spotify — purely an economic choice; David didn't want Patrick's music fucking up his Wrapped, but that's not really worth ten bucks a month — and added Mumford and Sons and Bryan Adams and the Beach Boys, because Patrick has no sense of thematic or genre consistency.  It's fine, he supposes; when you love someone, you're willing to compromise for them.  

"'Framed wall art and photos - bedroom,'" Patrick says out loud, reading off the Sharpie label on a box.  "Maybe we should save this one until we've got the basics together?"

"Okay," David agrees over an infuriatingly long banjo solo.  "This one is your books?" Patrick gestures and David slides it over, watches him produce a knife from his pocket and slice open the top.

By the time Stevie strolls through the door, helpfully using her emergency key, they've mostly got the bedroom together.  The mattress pad and sheets are on, with the duvet set in the dryer, and Patrick's books and David's books are commingled on the shelf, which David is alarmingly pleased by — they're married, but the sight of his Virginia Woolf next to Patrick's Agatha Christie makes him feel warm from the inside out.

"I picked up the pizza," Stevie shouts.  "You owe me forty bucks in reimbursement!"

David skids down the hall, eager for pizza, with Patrick behind him.

"How in the name of god did you spend forty bucks on pizza?"  Patrick wants to know.

Stevie shrugs, hugging him as David relieves her of the boxes.  "I got garlic knots."

"And cheese bread," David says gleefully, spreading the boxes on the table.  "And one of those big cookies."

Patrick sighs after him but dutifully digs three beers out of the fridge.  (They set up all the appliances and TVs yesterday.) (All that's in the fridge so far is beer, a single head of lettuce, and a few bottles of green juice.)  David accepts his beer with minimal distasteful nose-scrunching.

They make short work of lunch, and Patrick sets Stevie up in the kitchen with a roll of shelf paper and more boxes than he'd ever thought he could fill with kitchen stuff; the dishes from his apartment, of course, and then they'd gotten a lot of the classic appliance wedding gifts: a brand new blender, a four-slice toaster ("but what will you use?" David had asked), an upright mixer, a block of knives with marble handles that Patrick is actually thrilled with.

David finishes making the bed, and then he just stands and stares at it for a second; he can't wait for Patrick to have sex with him in these sheets in this bedroom, but he also can't wait for Patrick to cuddle with him in this bed.  Watch movies with him. Hold him close and fall asleep with an arm slung low over his waist.

Patrick comes up behind him and settles warm hands on his hips, and David leans back into the touch.  "Stevie and I want to get started on the living room," Patrick says, hooking his chin over David's shoulder.  "You just about done in here?"

David crosses his arms across his own waist and takes Patrick's hands, swaying.  One of Patrick's songs is playing from David's tiny speaker. I've been so happy loving you, Dennis Wilson croons into the space, less echoey than it was earlier before they got their pictures up.  He looks around at their new room; the receipt from their first date is already on the bookshelf, and there's a framed poster for that first open mic night, and one from Alexis' singles week.  These are all things from Patrick's apartment; all this time, he's been collecting little souvenirs for them. Stepping stones tracing the path of their relationship. There's a framed wedding invitation, too, and photos: from the store opening, Patrick's birthday, their bachelor party, their wedding.

Even after David landed in Schitt's Creek without a paddle, if he'd been asked to describe his future, he would have crafted a life more or less like the one he'd left: galleries and parties, a drugged-out A-list entourage, globetrotting in the wake of Alexis' endless stream of near misses.  He never could have imagined this: a house in a small town, a business heavily patronized by flannel-clad locals, a single friend who loved him enough to help him move. Alexis settled in one place, his parents settled in another, weekly Facetime calls.  

Five gold rings on his fingers, the most beautiful man he's ever seen in Costco jeans, holding him and swaying and singing softly in his ear: "Forever, together my love…"  A sedan that clicks in the driveway, blueprints for a vegetable garden.  All the Ricky-and-Lucy trappings of a good life, things he never would have expected to love.  

"You won," Stevie told him a few months ago, when he brought her here to sit in the driveway and pour out his heart.  And David can hear her clanking dishes together downstairs, and Patrick is warm against his back, and the song is fading out the way that slow seventies rock does, and David knows, bone-deep, unshakeably, that she was right.

[cwnerd12]

Caves

“Caves” The wall outside of the Amalekite compound, quiet and peaceful. An attached bomb goes off, blowing a hole into it. The Queens of Gilboa rush inside, and are met with resistance by the Amalekites there. The Amalekites outside are all killed, and Shay leads the group inside the compound, going from room to room. The fighting is close-up and ugly. Michelle and the other medics rush to tend their wounded comrades. Shay speaks into a radio, “It’s getting pretty hairy in here, bring us in some backup!” Jack leads a unit of regular AFG soldiers into the compound. Slowly, they work their way through the rooms of the compound, killing each Amalekite hiding in there. A group of soldiers go into the last room, where one final Amalekite stands. He raises his arms and blows himself up.

David, still walking with a slight limp, walks through the compound, led by Jack and Shay. Shay: “We’re scouring every inch of the place, and found a couple of computers, some phones, and IDs for the twelve Amalekites who were here.” Jack: “They’re fighting to the death. We’re not gonna get any surrenders.” David: “I figured as much.” Shay: “I don’t know when the rest of the Amalekites are going to figure out that something is up, but we should have a plan in place to get out of here, and a place where we can hide.” David: “There’s some mountains and rock formations east of here that have some caves. We can probably set up a camp there, but we’ll have to keep moving.” Jack: “Are we gonna go towards Shiloh?” David: “Depends on what we find here. If we find nothing about other Amalekites, we document what we did and move on. If we find more Amalekite hiding places, we attack them. More than anything else, we need to ID whoever the hell Alek Amal is. He’s obviously the head of the snake, here, if we can take him down, the rest of the Amalekites will likely scatter.” Jack: “Or just go on a massive fucking killing spree.” David: “Let’s see what we find.” Shay: “Okay. Beyond that, we have one other issue we need to address.” She motions for David to follow her. She leads him into a room, where the bodies of three AFG soldiers lay guarded.” Shay: “We can bury the twelve Amalekites here, but, our soldiers deserve better than that.” David looks on, and says softly, “Fuck.” Shay: “What even are our options here, besides just burying them?” David: “I… I really don’t know. Can we send them to a hospital or a mortuary without giving away that we’re back in Gilboa?” Shay: “Probably not.” David: “Bury them, but give them individual graves, and markers. I know it’s not great, but, fuck, we’ve gotta stay focused on what we’re doing, we can’t get sidelined. Make sure their families are notified and told everything. If they want to come here and get the remains, they can.”

A doctor speaks to Silas and Helen in a private room of the palace, “Seth is at stage 2 heart failure.” Helen wipes away tears. Doctor: “He can still go about his daily activities, but he is going to have limitations.” Silas: “When can he get a transplant?” Doctor: “When he reaches stage 4.” Silas: “I saw Kathleen and Michelle go through stage 4, Seth isn’t going to suffer like that. Give him a transplant.” Doctor: “In order for Seth to receive a donor heart, another child, who happens to be of his blood type, has to die.” Silas: “I know that! I’ve been through this all before! I don’t want my son to suffer! Give him a transplant!” Doctor: “There are other children with end stage heart failure who will die soon if they don’t get their donor heart. I can’t violate medical laws just for one child.” Silas: “Seth is the future king of Gilboa! He’s much more important than those other children! You have my full permission to violate any medical laws necessary to get Seth his heart!” Doctor: “It would also violate a number of medical ethics.” Silas: “Fuck your ethics!” Doctor: “When I was made a doctor, I took an oath, and I am not going to violate that oath.” Silas: “I’ll have your medical license revoked before you even leave the palace.” Doctor: “Silas, I’ve been Seth’s doctor since he was an infant. I treated Michelle. I’m one of the most respected cardiologists in Gilboa. I know Seth, I know his history, I know his symptoms, I know his heart. No other doctor can possibly treat Seth as well as I can. And I refuse to violate medical ethics. Seth will get his transplant when he reaches stage 4. In the meantime, there are plenty of options to help relieve his symptoms and keep him happy.” Helen: “Thank you, doctor.” Silas glares at Helen, “You aren’t going along with this, are you?” Helen: “I’m thinking about the other family that will lose their child when Seth gets their donor heart they need. Seth is a Benjamin. He’s brave, he’s tough, and he can make it through stage 4, just like Michelle did. I know if you asked him, he’d tell you the same. He wouldn’t want another child to die unnecessarily because of him.” Silas gets up, and heads towards the door without saying anything. Helen: “Silas!” Silas exits the room. Helen turns to the doctor, “I- I’m sorry.” Doctor: “I’ve dealt with plenty of upset parents before. No one wants to see their child suffer.”

Silas enters his office. He looks up at the shelves along the wall, holding they symbols of his kingship: The skull of Nathaniel, photographs of his life. He goes over to the shelf full of photographs. The family portrait that Jack and Michelle sent, along with the picture they took in front of the farm house, are both propped up against other picture frames. Silas looks at the image of Michelle: strong and confident, fully an adult, next to the portrait of her as a princess, in girlish clothes, with a shy, demure gaze. He looks at the portrait of Jack in his soldier’s uniform, grim, blank-eyed, next to the confident smirk in the farm house picture. He looks at two portraits of Seth: one a bright, happy school picture, the other a serious, very grown-up looking portrait as the prince of Gilboa. He looks at the image of himself in the old family portrait, shoulders hunched, seemingly shrinking himself next to the intimidating presence of his father. Silas stares hard at the cruel face of Chris Benjamin. Silas: “I’m not turning into you, you son of a bitch. You died when you were forty-eight. I’m forty-nine. I’m older than you ever got to be. I’m not a miserable drunk scratching around in the dirt. I’m the king of Gilboa!” He walks over to the window, and looks over his view of Shiloh. He turns back to the portrait: “You see that? I built all that! What did you build? Nothing! You earned one medal, I earned five! I am loved and feared! I have surpassed you in every conceivable way!” Silas sits down, and stares at the ground. His tone shifts, more serious, “I still have Seth. He isn’t going anywhere.” He looks back up at the image of his father, “Did you lie to me like I lied to my children? Did you have a sister, a cousin? Who did you lose? Did you know you were giving Kathleen the disease that killed her? That you were giving it to me to give to Michelle and Seth? Or did you just not give a damn?” He stares hard at the picture of Chris, “You never gave a damn.” He turns around at looks back out at the sky though his window. He lowers his gaze, “God, what do I have to sacrifice to make sure Seth survives this? Jack and Michelle? I’ve done enough harm to them, you can’t hurt them, too!” Silas tears up, “Do I have to give up my kingdom? Hand it over to Shepherd? Surely, surely, you can protect Seth, and protect Jack and Michelle, too! Please, you must protect them! Even when I do what a king has to do, you must protect them! Please, protect them!”

At the mall, Amal shows a young woman sitting in a chair a pair of shoes, “Size seven, right?” The woman looks up at Amal submissively, and in a breathy voice, says, “Yes.” Amal puts the box down on the ground, “Go ahead and try them on.” The young woman takes her shoes off, casting nervous glances at Amal, and puts the new shoes on. Amal: “They fit?” Young woman: “Yes, they’re perfect.” Amal: “Okay, want me to ring you up?” Young woman, “Please.” She takes the new shoes off and puts them into the box. She holds the box out for Amal. When he takes it, their hands touch slightly. The young woman inhales sharply and shuts her eyes. Quietly, she whispers, “Are you Alek Amal?” She looks up at him in anticipation. Amal smiles seductively, “Perhaps I am.” Cut to: Amal vigorously fucking the ecstatic young woman in the employee break room.

David and the leadership sit at a table in the compound. David: “Okay, so what have we found?” Asher: “We’ve got IDs for the dead Amalekites.” David: “And?” Asher, uneasily, “Three of them are AFG members.” David: “What?!” Shay: “They may have gone back to Shiloh after what happened at Nob. We don’t know how they came to join the Amalekites.” David: “Shit!” Joel: “There’s gotta be some kind of ideology at work here. People don’t just blow themselves up for no reason.” David: “You think?!” Joel: “Amal is recruiting. Cults don’t sell their crazy up front, they lure followers in with something reasonable, then the crazy sets in.” David: “You say cult…” Joel: “A group of fanatical devotees following the word of a charismatic leader.” David: “You might as well be describing the AFG there.” Jack: “The Amalekites are crazy, we aren’t crazy.” David: “Whatever. Let’s keep moving. Is there any reason for us to stay here any longer? We need to leave here before we get found out.” Monique: “We gotta make the announcement- show the world we’re fighting the Amalekites and winning.” David casts her a doubtful glance, “So what do you want me to do? Tell the world that people are leaving me for Amal?” Monique: “That can come out in the wash. I want to go back to Shiloh. Alone. I’m no use to you as long as you’re in combat, and if I’m in Shiloh, I can look into the Amalekites, or at least figure out why people are leaving the AFG.” David nods: “Okay. We’ll figure out some way for you to get there.” Asher: “I have one question, about the intel we’ve found.” David: “What?” Asher: “Are we going to give this back to Abby’s dad? If we cooperate, we might be able to figure everything out sooner.” David looks over at Abby. Abby: “What? It’s intel, not personal correspondence. I can send him intel.” Shay: “Is that the smart move, though? Do you really want to just hand Silas a victory?” David: “Silas is still insisting that we’re the Amalekites. Silas won’t do anything with any intel, but Lieutenant General Hatch might be able to put some pieces together, or find new ways for us to get new intel.” Jack: “What if this is just some ploy to get us to reveal intel on where we are and what we’re doing?” Abby shrugs: “I wouldn’t put it past him.” David: “Then we won’t send anything. We’ll show a little bit of what we have in the video we release, enough to build off of, and if Hatch finds anything, he can send it to us.”

Silas goes into a room where Seth sits playing a video game. Silas half-smiles, “Are you winning?” The image on screen blows up. Seth looks back, “I just died.” Silas goes over to the couch that Seth sits on, “Well, that’s no good.” He sits down, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Seth makes an unhappy face, “I know I’m at stage 2.” Silas: “You know, I can get you a transplant.” Seth: “Yeah, Mom told me. but I don’t want it. Not until I need it.” Silas: “You know your sister, Michelle, was born with the same condition, right? She received her transplant when she was fourteen.” Seth: “Yeah, I know.” Silas pulls a phone out of his pocket, and finds a picture on it. He holds it out to Seth. On screen is an image of Michelle receiving the Golden Palm. Silas: “This was her when we went to Damascus. She’s a medic with the Army of Free Gilboa. She saved the life of the Queen of Moab, and the lives of a bunch of other people, and she received medals for it.” Seth grins at the picture, “That’s cool. I want to do that.” Silas: “You can do it when you receive your transplant.” Seth: “I don’t want one now.” Silas: “Are you afraid it will hurt?” Seth: “No! I’ve had surgery before! I’ve been sick! I’m not afraid of being hurt or being sick!” Silas: “You know, I had a sister. Her name was Kathleen. When she was born, organ transplantation, it didn’t exist. I watched her die. That was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” Seth: “And I don’t want any other family to go through that because of me. That’s way worse than being sick.” Silas smiles at Seth, “You’re very brave, Seth.” Seth: “I’m brave like my dad.” Silas: “And your sister.”

Video of David walking around the Amalekite compound: “We’ve identified the twelve people who were stationed here. We found computers and phones, and we’re working to figure out how they ended up being here. If there are more compounds like this one, we will identify them and take them out.”

Amal watches the video on his phone, in the employee locker room at his department store. He laugh and rolls his eyes. In the food court, the young woman he was fucking earlier sits at a table, eating a pile of Chinese food. Amal approaches, carrying a stray with a slice of pizza and a soda. He sets it down next to the woman, and sits. The woman, nervously: “If you’re the leader of the Amalekites, why are you working in a lady’s shoe department?” Amal: “Because no one would ever suspect the leader of the Amalekites to work in a lady’s shoe department.” He takes a bite of his pizza and smiles. The woman fawns, “That’s so smart.” Amal, “It’s not for much longer, though. My hatred of this place is what drove me to create the Amalekites. It transformed me, and now, it fuels me. Some day soon, I’m going to have my revenge on this place.” Woman: “I want to be a part of it.” Amal: “And you shall be.”

Silas sits in his office, surrounded by military advisors, watching David’s video on a tablet, “What the hell is this? What is Shepherd doing with this? He’s just giving away his location!” Abner: “He’s back in Gilboa. We can take him out.” Silas: “He wants to fight.” Abner: “Then we’ll fight him.” Silas: “He’s got to be nearby. I want aerial surveillance of the area, focusing on any places that can potentially be hideouts. Once we identify where Shepherd is, we’ll take him out.”

AFG soldiers carefully lay land mines out in the entrance of a path between two craggy mountains. Higher up, David overlooks the scene, Shay and Jack behind him. David: “Put gunmen there, and there, we’ll fire on anyone who tries to come up. With the caves, we’ll be well-protected if they try to bomb us.” Shay nods, “All right, I’ll go get everyone into position.” She leaves. Jack: “Okay, now that we’re here, how are we going to get out of here?” David: “There’s way out, we can take all of them. Monique, Isaiah, and Asher are going back up to Shiloh, they’ll set up networks to get us moving north. Until then, this is the right place to set up a stronghold.” Jack: “Are we going to Shiloh to overthrow my dad or to fight the Amalekites?” David: “Whichever one comes first.”

A military aide approaches Silas, carrying a piece of paper, “Sir, it looks like we’ve found Shepherd.” Silas takes the paper, “Send the army. And tell them I’m coming.”

Sunset in the desert. An AFG lookout spots a convoy of approaching Gilboan army vehicles, and speaks into a radio, “They’re coming.” Up the mountain, David yells, “Get into position!” (“Smells Like Teen Spirit” Tori Amos) Soldiers scramble to get positioned behind boulders, crags, and other places where they can fire down on the approaching army. The Gilboan army reaches the hideout. Shay, from her position, “Open fire!” The AFG soldiers fire down at the Gilboan soldiers. The Gilboan soldiers do their best to fire back, but the AFG soldiers are well-protected. Gilboans launch rockets towards the AFG, but still, they’re protected behind the rocks. David grabs a rocket launcher and starts sending his own rockets back.

Silas and Abner drive in a humvee towards the fight. It’s almost completely dark, and the sky is stained with deep pink and blue. Abner: “Jack and Michelle are with them.” Silas: “I know. And God will protect them.” A vehicle tries to go up the pass, but a landmine explodes underneath them.

Up in his position, Jack continues to fire down at the Gilboans. He yells back at David, “They aren’t retreating!” David: “They have to! We put too many landmines in the pass! We’re hitting them, but they aren’t hitting us! Just keep firing!” A little bit further down, an AFG soldier gets shot, and Michelle and another medic run in to take him back into a cave where he can be treated.

Slightly away from the battle, Silas looks up at the flashes of gunfire. Abner: “They’re well-protected and they aren’t backing down. It looks like they’ve set up for a siege, we may have to last them out.” Silas: “Pull our men back. Send in the javelins.”

Shay, still raining gunfire down at the Gilboans, pauses her fighting, and watches the fight. The gunfire from the Gilboans is lessened, and seems to be dying off. Shay speaks into her radio, “I think they’re starting to retreat.” From his position, David looks through a pair of binoculars at the lights of the Gilboan camp. He removes the binoculars from his eyes, “Silas is in the camp.” Jack: “What?” David: “Of course he is, he’s come to see me die.” Jack: “All the more reason to keep fighting!” David looks up at the sky: the stars shine brilliantly, calm against the chaos below. David suddenly realizes what’s going to happen. He grabs his radio, “Cease fire! Cease fire! Everyone, get into the caves, and go as far back into them as you can, NOW!” Jack stops firing, “What?” David: “They’re retreating because they’re gonna bomb us!” Soldiers run past David and Jack, into the caves hidden in the crags of the mountain. David ushers Jack into a cave. As soon as they’re a good distance inside, an explosion booms outside the mouth of the cave. David drops his gun and grabs Jack, shielding him. Bomb after bomb falls onto the mountain, but the AFG members are safe, huddled in the caves. At camp, Silas watches the bombings, the explosions reflected in his glasses. In their cave, the explosions stop. Jack raises his head, David still clinging to him. He pulls on David’s arm, “Let go.” David: “You’re not going back out there!” Jack: “I’m not!” He grabs a flashlight, and shines it at the other soldiers, who squint at the bright light. Jack: “Everyone okay? Anyone injured?” He looks over at the soldiers, no injuries. Jack: “Good.” He shines the light back at David, and says, quietly, “You all right?” David, nods, “Y-yeah.” Jack puts a hand on David’s arm, “You’re shaking.” David doesn’t respond, he pulls his radio out and speaks into it, his voice shaking a little bit, “I-is everyone still there? Shay, Joel, do you copy?” Joel: “I copy.” Shay: “We need a medic in the western cave, we have some injuries.” In the cave where they’ve been taking the wounded, Michelle works frantically on a badly wounded AFG soldier. The medical officer, and actual doctor, goes up, “Lieutenant Benjamin, you’re needed in the western cave!” Michelle: “I’m working here!” The doctor goes over to her, “There’s nothing you can do. Go.” Michelle looks at him, distraught, but then grabs a medic pack and heads to the mouth of the cave. There she hesitates, and speaks into a radio, “Is it safe to go out?” David: “You’re nearby. Run.” Michelle sprints from one cave to the other. She reaches the cave where Shay stands at the entrance. Shay leads her two five injured soldiers inside the cave. Michelle sets up a light and starts working. At camp, Silas looks up, “Send in a few more waves. We’ll clean them up in the morning.” Another wave of bombs rains down on the caves. Michelle stops working and covers her head. David clings tightly to Jack.

Daybreak. Everyone still huddles in the caves, exhausted and dirty. A scout hurries out and looks over at the position of the Gilboan army. He speaks into his radio, “They’re still in position!” David, and Jack listen in. Jack: “Shit.” David: “This is good. We know we can hold them off. We can start moving some people out of the mountains while we continue to fight.” He gets up, and peers out of the cave, at the bright morning around him. He speaks into his radio, “Joel, start moving your unit north. We’ll have a transport meet you at a safe location, you can get up to Shiloh.” Joel answers: “Copy.” Michelle speaks into her radio, “We have some wounded we need to move out.” David: “Any critical?” Michelle: “The critical all died. We have a couple who can’t walk, but can be moved.” David: “Okay, get them out. Everyone else, get back into position, in case the army comes back.”

In his shitty apartment, Amal wakes up next to the female follower from before. Immediately, he grabs a TV remote and turns a TV on. A news program flashes images of the fight between Silas’s army and the AFG. Amal sits up, and the woman groans and stirs. A smile breaks across Amal’s face, “See, I knew this would happen! Shepherd would go after me, and then Silas would figure out where he was, and attack Shepherd! Now they’re both stuck fighting each other! Today’s a good day! Maybe one will kill the other! Maybe they’ll both kill each other!”

Gilboan soldiers continue to fire in vain up at the AFG positions. Silas watches, Abner behind him, “Goddamnit, Shepherd knows what he’s doing.” Abner: “There are other passes into the mountains. We can try sending some units through them.” Silas: “No, they’re too narrow, and Shepherd will see them coming! There needs to be one quick, swift way to take him out!” Abner: “How could you do that?” Silas: “Just like I took out Nathaniel. I’m gonna take Shepherd out myself.” Abner: “What?!” Silas goes back into a tent, and grabs a gun and a big-ass knife. He goes back out, and Abner tries to stop him, “Silas, you aren’t twenty-five anymore!” Silas: “I still know how to fight! I’m going to get my children and my kingdom back!” He marches off. Abner tries to think of something to say, but he knows he can’t stop Silas.

Silas follows a narrow path up the mountain, up towards David his hiding. A scout looks down on the path, and sees Silas approaching. They speak into their radio, “Uh, General Shepherd? I think you should see something.” From his position, David looks down with a pair of binoculars, “Silas is coming up.” Jack: “What?!” David hands him the binoculars, “Look for yourself.” Jack takes a look, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dad, you should be smarter than this!” Jack speaks into his radio, “Shay, get up here, bring some soldiers. Dad’s coming.” David: “This is what he did with King Nathaniel.” Jack: “What?” David: “He thinks he’s gonna cut my head off and put it on his shelf.” Jack: “Yeah, well, he’s been wrong about plenty of shit before.” David: “I have to meet him by myself.” Jack: “No! You are not doing this shit again!” David: “That’s why I’m gonna wait for Shay to get here.” Silas approaches the wide mouth of a cave. The sun shines inside, showing a wall decorated with colorful petroglyphs. Silas smiles, “God is delivering Shepherd to me!” He goes in. 

David walks calmly down the path towards the cave, Shay and a unit of soldiers behind him. David: “He’s gonna be armed. If we all rush him, he’s gonna fire and probably hit someone. So I’m gonna be the one to approach him. If he tries something, that’s when you come in.” Shay: “Got it.” David reaches the cave. He takes his gun out, and quietly approaches. Shay holds her gun out in front of her. David sees Silas. Sunlight glints off of Silas’s knife, and the gun in his hand is visible. David puts his gun back in its holster. Quietly he goes up to Silas, and grabs his arm. Silas spins around, and David knocks him back. They fight. David manages to disarm Silas, and grab his knife, and throw it out of grabbing distance. Silas looks up at David, on his knees. David points Silas’s gun straight at his head.

[krissysbookshelf]

Enjoy An Exclusive Sneek Peek Of: Midnight at the Electric by Jodi Lynn Anderson!

  Kansas, 2065: Adri has been picked to live on Mars. But weeks before launch, she discovers the journal of a girl who lived in her house more than a hundred years ago and is drawn into the mystery surrounding her fate. Oklahoma, 1934: Amid the fear and uncertainty of the Dust Bowl, Catherine's family's situation is growing dire. She must find the courage to sacrifice everything to save the one person she loves most. England, 1919: In the recovery following World War I, Lenore tries to come to terms with her grief for her brother and plans to sail to America. But can she make it that far?  

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  Chapter 1

From above, Miami looked as if it were blinking itself awake; the rising sun reflected against the city’s windows. Adri—in fuzzy extra-large pajama pants, her messy black hair pulled back in a rubber band—had pulled over on the shoulder of the Miami bridge. Her Theta had blown a circuit board and she needed to fix it. Now, she took in the view one last time: it wasn’t much, but she’d never see it again.

The sky lay low and gray over South Beach. The empty beachfront hotels lay dark, water halfway up their lowest windows. All along the waterfront, buildings stood stark and abandoned. Neighborhood by neighborhood, the ocean had crept into the city, making it look like a kingdom from an old fairy tale, like Atlantis disintegrating into myth. The morning’s mail drones were already buzzing above the waterlogged buildings below, swaying in the heavy winds but staying on course to deliver packages to anyone who was left: the ruggedly independent, the people with nowhere else to go.

Adri had been one of them until today; her entire life had been spent watching the city get swallowed by water. She wouldn’t miss it, but she had to take a deep breath as she turned back to the car. She gathered the papers and wrinkled sweatshirts that had fallen out when she’d stepped out onto the pavement and shoved them into the back. She carefully plucked a caterpillar off her windshield, sliding her fingers against it gently and moving it to the bridge rail. Then she started the car and set it to self-navigate. Her restless mind drifted to Kansas and what lay ahead. She opened her placement letter on the dash monitor and reread it.

Dear Ms. Ortiz, We try to arrange home stays for our Colonists-in-Training as often as possible, to maintain a sense of normalcy at a deeply transitional time. We’re delighted to inform you that we’ve located a distant cousin of yours (a Lily Vega, maiden name Ortiz, age 107) within driving distance of the Center, who is willing to welcome you into her home during the next three months. Please make your way to this address and await instructions. 268 Jericho Road Canaan, KS 67124 Sincerely, Lamont Bell Director

Adri hadn’t even known she’d had cousins, or any family, left alive. Her parents had been only children; she’d never known of anyone even remotely related to them.

She turned on the news, and when people honked at her to tell her Theta was trailing sparks (it often did) she casually gave them the finger. She leaned back in her seat to watch the sky through the big sunroof. She felt lighter the farther she got from the city.

The coast fell away, and with it, the flooded towns and cities. The ride was only twelve hours with the new interstate, and with a speed limit of a hundred and fifty, it flew by. Normally she would have taken the spare time to study, but all of her devices had been remotely disabled the day she’d received her acceptance letter. Colonists were supposed to spend their last three months focusing on what they learned at the Center in Wichita. Other than that, they were supposed to do as close to nothing as possible.

Only a week had passed since the message had flashed on her wristTab, releasing a spray of holographic balloons that spiraled up around her and away as her admission note flashed on the screen. It was a cheesy touch, but her heart had dropped to her feet anyway. It was the first time in her life she could remember crying. Everything she’d sacrificed and worked for since the sixth grade—the late nights studying, the relentless schedule of exercise, course work, and training—was going to pay off. Within months, she’d be one of the lucky few living on Mars.

The air turned colder the farther she rode. It was long past dark when she crossed the border into Kansas, and another hour before she exited the highway. Nearing Canaan, each turn seemed to take her farther and farther into the middle of nowhere, county roads unfurling darkly under a sky black as ink. The Theta began to make a loud, thumping sound. Around eleven, she switched the car to driver-navigate and steered it gingerly along. It was practically dead when she pulled up to the end of the driveway.

Adri gazed around; the place looked almost abandoned. There was a little white farmhouse with peeling siding and a small barn lot . . . leaning fences surrounding a large pasture, a bunkhouse (or was it a stable?) listing to one side. An ancient SUV sat in the driveway—one of the last of the great gas guzzlers.

Adri cut the power and blinked at a sign by the flowerbeds drying up for the winter. There were indications of life though: a series of purple plastic dragonflies lined the path to the front door and a tin angel with a watering can stood poised over a patch of daisies and weeds to her right. A little placard poking up by the path said: Come in, my flowers would like to meet you.

“Oh God,” she muttered.

She took a deep breath.

She turned her attention upward. The sky was closer here than it had been back home, or at least it felt that way. That’s where I’ll be, she thought. That’s where I’m going. In a way, she was already gone. That was what she needed to focus on.

She checked herself in the mirror. She looked like she’d just rolled out of bed, which was how she always looked. She brushed herself off and got out of the car, a few soda cans and empty wrappers trailing out with her feet.

A sign had been taped to the door, written in shaky handwriting.

Adri, I stayed up as late as I could, but I’m old! Your room is upstairs to the right. Can’t wait to meet you. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. ☺☺☺

Adri moved through the house in the dark, bumping into corners and staring around into the shadowy rooms before she made her way up the stairs. One room stood open and inviting: faded blue and smelling of mothballs. The lamps were all on, and a bright patchwork quilt lay across the bed, turned down at the corner. She looked around. There was something about the room that was off, unsettling. But she couldn’t say what.

There was no dresser so she moved back and forth across the room, flinging her pants and balled-up sweaters along the closet shelves. Lily had either neglected or forgotten to clean in the back, and the corners were covered in cobwebs that stuck to her fingers. Otherwise the shelves were empty except for an old crinkled shoe box. She opened it, finding a pile of photos and old postcards instead. Adri was notoriously nosy.

She moved closer to the bedside lamp and flipped through the contents. There were several photos of a woman she assumed must be Lily, some with a man who looked to be her husband, and some of her as a little girl. But most of the mementos were older, artifacts from before even her cousin would have been born: ancient ticket stubs from shows in the 1950s, an autograph from someone named Wayne Newton. One postcard was from New York City and very old—it showed a wide boulevard with people in hats and dresses strolling arm and arm, gazing into shop windows. It was postmarked May 7, 1920, and the writing was so faded it was close to illegible.

Beth— Arrived New York last night and making my way to you tomorrow. Galapagos in tow. Did you get my letters? Will you be waiting for me? Will you love her as much as I do? Love, Lenore

Adri did the quick mental math to calculate how many years had passed since 1920: a hundred and forty-five. She read it one more time, then put the box back where she’d found it.

Finally, with nothing else to do, she turned out her light and lay down. In the silence of the strange room, a feeling still nagged at her and kept her from sleeping. Maybe it was nerves about living with a stranger . . . and a stranger who was also— weirdly—family. She wondered what Lily would be like—and it made her think of her old roommate at the group house back in Miami, and something she’d said once.

“I really admire you, Adri,” she’d said. “But I have to say you’re not very likable.”

Adri hadn’t shown that it hurt her, but it had stayed in her mind. She didn’t know why she couldn’t keep from being too blunt, too standoffish and distant, a little mean. She’d stopped trying to change it years ago; she could never figure out how.

Growing up she’d watched other kids buddying up— everyone with their weird quirks and flaws getting along anyway somehow, forming some mysterious club she couldn’t penetrate. She’d think to herself, How do they do that? It was like executing an intricate dive.

Adri wasn’t a diver. If anything, she was a pickax, chipping away at each day. The next three months living with another stranger, even one who was related to her . . . she would chip away at too.

• • •

In sixth-grade astronomy, Adri had read about neutrinos for the first time. They were particles that traveled across space—from one end of the universe to the other, unstoppable and anchorless. They could pass through matter, right through planets and people and everything else. When kids talked after that, about what they wanted to be when they got older, the image of that textbook page always flashed through her mind.

Now she pictured the day she’d be the one launching off from Earth, unstoppable. She hoped the time between then and now would go fast. As she fell asleep, behind her eyelids she watched herself pinging across space.

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