"Fucking freezing in this place," Carmen grumbled under her breath as she shifted on the couch, curling her body into the side of it. The cramped living room was icy cold, for the someone had left the window wide open, letting the November air bleed in. She hugged her arms around herself for warmth, and rubbed hands over her skin.

"The heater's out," a gravelly voice replied. He brought had hand to his mouth, coughing into it, the kind of cough that was dry and thick and clawed at one's throat. Carmen watched with narrowed eyes as he went into the small fridge and pulled out two beers.

"I don't want some cheap ass beer," she told him with an irritated roll of her eyes. He parted his cracked lips to say something, but instead turned and put one of the beers back.

"It's been awhile since I've seen you," her father spoke. He sauntered to the couch, his feet barely lifting off the floor, and slowly sat himself beside her, letting out a heavy breath. The bottle in his hand was brought to his mouth, and he puckered his lips as he drank from it, like a newborn while nursing. Carmen visibly scooted away from him, her side pressed against the arm of the couch; everything about the man beside her was repulsive.

"I've been busy." She looked down at her nails, and mindlessly began to pick at the chipped polish. She had been so quick to leave Harry's apartment that morning, that she hadn't noticed that she was in dire need of a manicure. A faint smile formed on her lips as she reminded herself that she had the richest man in London to supply for her needs whenever she pleased.

The smile faded, though, as images of a blonde woman sitting on his lap clouded her mind.

It was hard not to think about it, and that was what was most alarming to her.

Was love supposed to be this annoying? Surely something as romanticized as love couldn't be as obnoxious as the feelings Harry had stirred up in her. It was infuriating to Carmen, having no control over her own thoughts, her own desires. To have to think about the smallest goddamn details of that man every second, no matter how much she wished she could hate him and forget everything that ever happened.

Love was not apart of her plan.

It was becoming harder and harder for her to remember that, which is why she knew she had to get away soon.

Carmen let out a heavy sigh and stood up from the couch. She hadn't bothered to change out of her already worn dress from the morning, and her face was clear of makeup. It was as if things that used to be so important to her, now seemed so juvenile and petty.

"I'm going for a walk," she mumbled, not expecting a response. A low grunt was all she got in return.

The evening was young as she stepped out of the paltry tenement. It was cold, so she had worn a coat- a thick one lined with a fur collar that Harry had bought for her- and put on a pair of warm boots to protect her feet. Her lips were pressed together from the cold, and her hands were buried in the pockets of her coat. She hated winter.

She also hated this part of London. The concrete sidewalks were cracked and large tree roots snaked between the gaps. Most of the buildings were just as run down as the one she lived in, if not in worse shape; gray paint chipped off to show the auburn brick underneath, and various graffiti sprayed over the walls. This was the world she had grown up in, and it was the world that she wanted to get away from.

She pondered the idea of whether or not Harry would have even spared her a minute of his time if he knew that this was where she really came from. If he knew that the high end clothes on her body were obtained through having sex with men twice her age, and who probably had wives waiting for them. If he knew that she had never experienced even half of the luxury that he lived in. If he knew that everything about her was a lie...

Or maybe things could have ended up much differently if she had been honest to him from the start. Maybe he could have fallen in love with the girl that she hid from everybody, including herself. Maybe she could have fulfilled the role that Harry's mother wanted for him.

Maybe.

It was the worst kind of torture, really, to think of what could have been. To dwell on the idea of an alternate universe where Harry and her could be in love, and she could be a normal person who didn't mind commitment, and he could be so happy with her he never even thought of other women again. It hurt her in the most sick and twisted way possible, filling her mind with fantasies that would never be fulfilled.

Her boots thudded against the concrete as she walked, her eyes wandering around the dark gray scenery around her. It was a gloomy evening, and it only emphasized her grief.

Nearing a small park, the grass dead and the few trees having hardly any leaves, Carmen sat down on a bench and crossed one leg over the other. Her dark eyes took in the small slide, which was far too slim for her to even fit in now. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she smiled faintly to herself as she recalled the many days she used to practically drag her father to the park so she could play. He never wanted to take her, but he always managed to keep himself busy while she went down the slide a few times; she could remember how he would wait by the curb for a car to come by and drop something off for him. Whenever her five year old self had asked him what it was, he would say it was 'something that brings her back'.

Carmen hummed a soft tune to herself as her eyes then caught the sight of a small boy. He was very young, no older than three years, and he waddled in an endearing way that made even Carmen smile to herself. His hair, long and fluttering in the wind, was tucked behind his ears, reminding her of how Harry would do that when he got frustrated with the strands that fell over his eyes.

The boy climbed up the ladder of the metallic slide, and Carmen frowned to herself, looking around.

"Where the fuck is your mum, kid?" she muttered under her breath, frowning to herself.

Just as she was about to get up to walk back, the high-pitched sound of wailing penetrated her ears. She grimaced, looking back at the boy, and seeing that he had fallen from the small ladder and landed with his knees tucked under his body.

"Momma!" he cried, cheeks stained red with tears. Carmen began to stand up, the sound of his crying enough to make her greatly irritated; she truly hated kids.

He screamed for his mother again, and Carmen sighed in defeat. She ambled over to him reluctantly, for not even she could be as heartless as to leave him there alone.

"Um, are you alright?" She gathered her hair together and brought it over her shoulder, an awkward gesture. Watery, green eyes looked up to her and he shook his head. Sighing, she knelt down carefully beside him, now noticing the small gash in his knee where a sharp wood chip had tore through his skin, and hesitantly placed her hand on his shoulder.

I have no idea what I'm supposed to do, she thought to herself, looking around again to see if his mother had shown up. Carmen wasn't familiar with parenting, but letting a toddler go to a park by himself didn't seem like the most intelligible idea.

"Can you stand up?" she questioned, trying to keep her voice soft despite how much she wanted to scold the kid for being so careless.

He shook his head again.

She fought back an annoyed groan. Carefully wrapping her hand around his ankle, she moved his leg so she could observe the wound in his knee. It wasn't that deep, with only a little bit of blood oozing out. To a two year old, though, it probably felt like death.

Her eyes lit up as an idea came to mind, and she reached her hand into pocket of her jeans, pulling out a small bandage.

"I always carry these around," she said, smiling. "If you ever plan on wearing four inch heels someday, you should have some on you too. Blisters are inevitable with those things." She laughed quietly to herself and the boy stared at her in confusion, not saying anything.

Unwrapping the bandage, she placed it over the cut. "There. You can go home now, yeah?"

Before he could answer, his emerald eyes lit up as he looked past Carmen. "Momma!"

Carmen brought her finger to her ear, plugging it to mask his shrieking voice which made her head hurt. Turning around, she saw that a young woman was jogging towards them, a look of relief on her face.

"Phillip, why did you run off like that?" she breathed, hooking her hands under his shoulders and lifting him up, cradling the small boy to her chest. He closed his eyes and nuzzled his face against her, his small arms clinging onto her. Carmen cleared her throat and stood up, grateful that she didn't have to take care of him any longer.

"He, uh, fell," she informed his mother. "I put that bandage on his knee for him. It wasn't that deep or anything so he's okay." She offered a small smile and began to turn away.

"Say thank you, Phillip," she heard her tell the young boy.

He then lisped a thank you, still keeping his arms tightly around his mother. Carmen looked back at them and nodded her head shortly, not knowing what else to say. Social encounters like this were not something she was familiar with; she never got along too well with other women or with children.

Before the woman could say anything else to her, Carmen buried her hands in her pockets and started to walk back. It was getting dark now, the evening slowly aging into night, and the cold had turned icier, so that Carmen's fingertips were dried and numb. Images of young boys and girls with brown hair and green eyes filled her mind involuntarily as she walked.

Now that she thought about it, the boy had resembled Harry greatly. Similar green eyes and thin lips that puckered in the most charming way. She wondered what Harry's kids would be like, if he ever planned to have any; surely they would be the most beautiful children to ever exist, if they ended up resembling him in any way.

"Goddamnit," she murmured to herself, a thick breath leaving her lips. She couldn't even go a minute without thinking about him. She hoped it wouldn't be like that for too long; it's not like she could love him forever, right? She had hoped having a little space from him for the day would clear her mind, but yet it only made her realize just how much she wanted to be around him. Needed to be around him.

Her hand dug into her pocket when she reached the worn down apartment building, and she pulled out her keys, the cold metal stinging her fingers slightly. Walking down the familiar halls, she could feel them watching her again. It made an uneasy feeling grow in the pit of her stomach, as though they were warning her of something.

"I thought I had closed it," she muttered to herself when she saw that the door to the small apartment was opened slightly. She pressed her hand to it, pushing it open more so she could step inside, a soft hum vibrating in her throat.

But then her humming stopped.

First she saw the gun. Her black eyes widened. The metallic object caught the dim light in the room, making it glare.

Then she noticed that the end of it was pressed to her father's forehead. Her body froze and she choked on her own heartbeat.

The last thing she noticed, was a pair of green eyes, just as wide as her own, staring at her intently.

"Carmen?"

*****

PLEASE READ

yooo ok so i hope this was alright i had a really hard time writing lol. anyway, i just wanted to know if yall would rather have a happy ending, or a not so happy one. i have both written out already but i just wanna know so please comment which one you would rather have bc i really cant decide :-)

btw there's probably like five more chapters left