There were few times in Carmen Vicino's life where she was rendered speechless.

This was one of those times.

She could barely process the sight in front of her.

Her eyes were unblinking as they flickered between her father, who was knelt on the floor, and her lover, who was watching her with just as much intensity as she was. There was a silence that had settled in the small space of the room, a silence that was so deafening Carmen wanted to clamp her hands over her ears and scream. She didn't know what to do, for the first time in her life she felt like she was breaking into indefinable pieces.

Harry, and her father. A gun and a man with nearly black eyes, staring at her intensely. She couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that her Harry was in the very place she had been keen on keeping him away from. The soles of his expensive boots were on the very floorboards that an eight year old girl had been kneeling on, weeping as her father laid passed out on the couch. He was standing within the very walls she had been trying to escape her whole life.

Harry's nostrils flared as he let out a thick breath he hadn't realized he had been holding since the moment she walked in. His body was tense, eyebrows knitted together so the indent between them had formed. A multitude of questions raced through his mind and he didn't trust his voice to manage out the words. Crook, who stood by his side, was confused by the tension in the room, but was slowly starting to put the pieces together as he looked between his friend, and the woman who was standing frozen in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" Harry was the first to speak, his low voice penetrating the pending silence. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips, which had gone dry. He watched as a flash of fear cut through the abyss of Carmen's eyes, and she glanced at her father briefly.

She could have lied.

She could have made up some explanation as to why she was there, perhaps sob into Harry's neck until he couldn't bare the sight of it anymore, and then make love to him for the whole night so he would forget it ever even happened. He would believe her like he always did, for he was blinded by his love or lust or whatever it was he felt towards her (she wasn't very sure anymore), and Carmen could move forward with the plan she had since the start.

But something in her, in that moment, grasped onto the lies and dragged them back down her throat, where they would stay put.

"I live here," she answered almost inaudibly, so that maybe the confession would go unheard. Her hands were shaking by her sides, tears threatening to seep out of her eyes. The air in her lungs had seemingly been stolen from her, her throat constricting and making it nearly impossible to breathe. She wished she could run away, but she couldn't; she had to stand there and endure what was to come.

Harry's face fell in confusion as he registered her words. Of all the things he had expected her to say, that wasn't one of them. He let out a breath, nodding his head slowly as he did his best to keep his temper at bay.

"You live here," he repeated, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "So this is where you live now?" he questioned slowly, his voice steady and his breathing controlled, despite the fact that his mind was still trying to grasp the situation. "After moving out of Stephan's place, you went here?"

The way he visibly grimaced as Stephan's name sounded from his lips did not go unnoticed.

Carmen was unresponsive, her eyes staring blankly at him as though her thoughts were elsewhere.

"Carmen, do you know this man?" Harry demanded gently when she failed to say anything. He motioned the end of his gun towards Carranza, who flinched at the sudden movement. The tears were streaming down Carmen's cheeks rapidly now, as though her walls were finally crumbling right before Harry's eyes. The sight of it made his chest sting painfully, and he fought the urge to drop the gun in his hand and scoop her up in his arms, cooing comforting words in her ear as he buried his face in her hair.

Carmen didn't trust her voice, so she nodded her head in response. Her head was throbbing; so much was falling apart in that moment, that not even someone as strong as Carmen Vicino could handle it.

"He's my father," she admitted quietly, her teeth gnawing at the inside of her cheek so harshly that the metallic taste of blood flooded her senses.

The sound of Harry sucking in a breath sounded through the nearly silent room. He pinched his lip between his index and thumb, as if in thought, and then dropped his arm to his side. Carranza's eyes widened in relief as the cool metal was retracted from his forehead, but he didn't dare move from where he was knelt on the withered floorboards, nervous sweat clinging to his face.

"Your last names," Harry muttered after a moment, eyebrows knitting together as he took a brief glance at the man on the floor beside him, whose wide eyes were tainted with fear. "They're different."

"Vicino was my mother's last name," Carmen replied, the wound in her cheek not providing enough pain to numb her mind. Her lips were trembling and strands of her hair stuck to her tear-stained cheeks. She couldn't tell if she felt relieved to finally share these things with Harry, to finally let the lies on her lips be exposed. These were things she had never shared with anyone, not even Stephan...

"Wow," he shook his head in disbelief. "So this fucker who owes me three fucking grand is your dad?" Harry let out a sound that was between a grunt and a laugh, his fingers threading through his thick mane of hair. He wasn't angry, surprisingly enough; that was something that had changed in him since he met Carmen. Before, he would have snapped someone's neck in half by now. But with her standing feet away from, he felt what normally would have been fury, be replaced with sympathy. His girl appeared so broken in front of him, and more than anything, he was just trying to figure her out.

The whole situation would have been ironically amusing to him, if he wasn't staring into the eyes of the broken girl who he loved so deeply.

"Why didn't you just tell me, baby?" he sighed, his voice laced with hurt. "Why do you keep so much shit from me? I mean, I haven't been completely honest with you, I know..." He bit his lip and looked down at the gun in his hand, which he had yet to explain himself for. "But I'm trying my best. You said you would try, too." His lips were parted and by the end, his voice began to crack.

She inhaled sharply and looked down at her feet, unable to stare into the green eyes that appeared so confused and lost now. She couldn't look into them knowing she was the reason for his pain.

"You don't understand, Harry," she swallowed thickly, her throat raw from her merciless tears.

"What Carmen? What don't I understand?" He took a step towards her, his nostrils flared.

"This-" she waved her hand around, regarding the small cramped space of the front room they were standing in. "-is all that I have. This is my life."

She wiped the back of her hands over her damp eyes, the salty taste reminiscing on her lips, mixing with the taste of blood in her mouth.

"I was using you, Harry," she said, her voice void of any emotion that Harry could decipher. She licked her lips, finally looking up to see that his eyes were dark and focused on her intensely. "I was using you from the beginning. I lied about everything really, or almost everything. It's always been like that though, I need you to know that. Even with Stephan, I just wanted his money because I have to get out of here. I don't belong here." She said the last part so softly that her words barely made it to his ears.

It felt like a weight had been lifted from her, the heaviness of her secrecy being taken off her shoulders.

Maybe this was how her plan should have gone.

Maybe now that he knew, he would be able to give her up with ease.

There was a silence that settled in the room, the kind of silence that was filled with words. Harry was taking everything in, exhaling deep breaths to filter through his thoughts. He looked at Crook, who stood expressionless by his side, and then he let his eyes drift to Carranza, or- Carmen's father- and he knew that this wasn't the place for him to talk, really talk, with Carmen. They needed to be alone.

"Go wait for me in the car," he said finally, his words clipped. Carmen felt her heart sting a little by his dismissal and complete disregard for the things she had just admitted to him. Maybe he was already starting to hate her...

His hand dug into his back pocket, pulling out his car keys, and he took long strides towards where Carmen was standing in the doorway. Both of them felt relief from their close proximity as he approached her, but neither made any notion of it. Her arm trembled as she held it out, palm flat open, and Harry placed the keys in it. The cool metal stung her hand and she wrapped her small fist around the keys, looking away from the beautiful face that she wished more than anything she could reach out and caress.

"We will talk about this at home," he murmured lowly so only she could hear. She wanted to correct him and say that this was her home, no matter how much she wished it wasn't.

Carmen followed his request, glancing at her father once more, her eyes filled with assurance, before stepping away from Harry and heading out the door. Her body was shaking as she ambled outside to where his car was parked. How she could have missed it when she came in, she'll never know.

The icy air filling the interior of Harry's car seemed to trigger thoughts in her mind as she sat in the leather seat, her teeth chewing at her bottom lip. She thought of the boy at the park that she had seen, and how much he resembled Harry. She thought of how one day, he would be able to find a woman who could give him the love and honesty he deserved. She thought of the words his mother had said to her; if you have any feelings for him, you will leave him alone.

She loved him, she was aware of that by now. When she walked into the room to see him holding a gun to her father's head, the one thing that had run through her mind was whether or not he would hate her if he finally found out the truth. She could care less about her father, as heartless as it was; her heart only had enough room for Harry in it. No one else had ever matter to her the way that he did, not even herself.

She couldn't get the image of Harry's hurt, and lost eyes out of her mind, the deep shades of green flecked with golden specks. Her fingers wrapped around her hair and she pulled as hard as she could, as though to erase the emerald eyes that were burning through her thoughts. She couldn't do this anymore, not to him. Not now that he knew that she was nothing more than a lying whore who didn't even have a proper bed to sleep in at night. His mother was right, Harry deserved better.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispered, as though he would be able to hear her love-filled apology. Her movements were hurried, for she didn't know how much time she had. She threw open the glove compartment, rifling through the contents until her hands wrapped around a wad of fresh pounds. Tears welled in her eyes as she fingered through it, estimating that there was at least ten grand in the stack alone.

Her hands trembled as she stuffed the wad into her cleavage, her fingers cold as they brushed against her skin. Grabbing the set of keys which he had given her, she turned on the ignition and drove off, with one destination in mind.

*****

SHOUTOUT TO @HERWALLS FOR THE COVER IM SO AFJAKDBDJW

AND I HAVE A NEW STORY UP BUT I PROBABLY WONT UPDATE UNTIL AFTER MY FINALS PLEASE GO CHECK IT OUT ☺️

ok so scenes like this are so so soooo difficult for me to write so i did my best im sorry if it sucks... i know i always say that but yeah

i probably won't be able to update for a bit because i have finals and stuff.