❇ ❇ ❇

Canada.

My eyes burn as I stare at my laptop screen, my head throbbing with each moment that passes by that I have to stare at the bright fucking screen. I heavily sigh while my fingers move across the keyboard, composing yet another draft proposal for the client that I am trying to win over. Unfortunately, they have not agreed to my last two proposals, and I am on my last chance to make the draft work for everybody. I am not sure why this client is so damn irritating, but I pray that this pays off. I have spent hours on this draft, doing everything to make ends meet, making phone calls and finding ways around the issues the client composes. I think the client is scared of making such a significant step forward.

I move my left hand to the tie that has been wrapped around my neck, and I tug on it, loosening the damn thing despite knowing that it will not fix the fact I have not slept.

A knock at the door distracts me, and I push myself off the hotel bed and walk towards the door. I look through the peephole before I open the door. "Jamie, it is midnight?" I am unsure why he is standing at my hotel room at this hour. He should be asleep.

Jamie nods his head, "Yes, you need to get some sleep."

Blinking owlishly at Jamie, I respond, "How do you know I wasn't asleep?" I softly question, struggling to focus entirely on him. Unfortunately, all the lights in the hallway are making the headache worse.

Jamie chuckles, "Son, I know you, plus I can see you logged into the office account. You need to get some sleep."

I shake my head, "I am not finished with the proposal."

"Harry, I pushed the meeting to the afternoon. So we can work on it after we have both slept. We deserve it." Jamie informs me.

Getting some sleep does sound like a beautiful approach, sleep has been scarce as Jamie, and I have been operating endless hours attempting to pull the deals off.

I nod my head, "We are as bad as each other, huh?" I softly joke.

Jamie smiles, "Jus' a bit, but before I take myself to my hotel room, I wanted to give you something," Jamie reaches his hand into his breast pocket of his blazer, "You have earned this," Jamie hands me a piece of thin paper.

I take the paper from his hand and glance down at the check. I inhale a deep breath and blow out slowly, buying myself a moment to focus on what is in my hands. "Jamie," I whisper, my eyes growing wide at the amount that is written in cursive writing on the check. "Is this for the rest of the upcoming year?" I ask.

"No," Jamie shakes his head, "That's for December only."

"This is too much. It isn't what we had agreed on." I bring to his attention that we had agreed on two-hundred and fifty thousand for the entire three months. The amount in my hands is far more than I should be paid, according to our contract. The last two months payments from Jamie I put towards my mother's house. I want to pay the house off so that I don't need to make monthly payments to keep my mother afloat.

"You have earned it for this business deal."

I thread a hand through my thick hair, unable to wrap my head around what is happening. "But we... I... haven't succeeded yet. They haven't signed yet." I stutter, grappling to find the right words that need to be said. There isn't much to be said at this moment. I haven't fully deserved this payout yet.

"I have enough faith in you that you will settle the deal. You deserve it."

"I-I uh, this is a lot." I breathe out softly, my heart racing with my thoughts.

"It's your portion of what we will get from the deal. I told you two-fifty for the few months to see whether you would be committed even if you knew that my profit is much larger than the small amount you received." Jamie clears his throat, "We will be revising the contract you signed and negotiate further payments. Get some sleep; you look like hell."

"Jamie," I stop him as he goes to walk away, "Thank you."

I close the door, and I lean against it, my eyes staring down at a check that I didn't dream of touching for a few more years. I take a breath, staring at five-hundred thousand pounds that will hit my bank account. I smile to myself as tears roll down my cheeks and hit the check.

The long nights with no sleep, the endless draft proposals, the regular coffee runs for Jamie and me, and all the work Jamie has put in me has paid off earlier than I ever expected. For the last few months that I have worked with Jamie, I have helped him land high-profile clients that earned him millions while I forgot to pay my lights, sometimes scrambling for money. Now, he is paying me for a client I haven't entirely won over yet. The man has so much faith in me, faith in me that I am not quite sure I have for myself.

I place the check on the nightstand before I pick up my phone and call the only person I want to share the news with.

"Hello?" Elise's voice sleepily answers on the other end of the phone.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't realise the time," I trail off, feeling guilty for waking her up. It slipped my mind that for her, it's five in the morning.

I hear the rustling of the sheets on the other end, "It's okay, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, everything's okay. Go back to sleep, darling."

"Harry—"

I cut her off, "I promise, everything is perfect. I love you."

"I love you."

I hang up the phone, and I sit on the hotel bed, closing my laptop and pushing it to the side as I lay down on the soft pillows, taking a moment to relax. A smile paints itself across my lips as it all becomes real.

I have scars, even though they can't always be seen, but for a brief moment, the wounds don't hurt so bad as the feeling of success finally washes over me. I'm finally making it.

❇ ❇ ❇

I stand in the office overlooking Toronto, watching as light snow begins to blanket the city below me. I inhale deep breaths, nerves starting to settle in. I have forty minutes to get the clients to agree to our negotiation and sign, forty minutes, no more, no less. This client determines whether I keep that check that I was handed hours ago. This client determines my future. The mere thought of a forty-minute meeting and negotiation dictating so much of my life makes me sick to my stomach.

When I was walking from the private car to the building an hour ago, I stopped outside the jewellery store with a hot coffee in my hand. I had a few minutes to spare while Jamie sat in the car talking to his wife. Quite an intelligent decision to have an office building filled with businessmen within walking distance of a jewellery store. I bet they make a killing off the men in this office, mainly because I am sure they leave their wives at home alone a lot and need a gift every so often. As I stood outside the store, barely focusing on the diamonds in the window that the cold air was fogging up, I decided to take the leap of faith and step inside. The warm atmosphere and golden lights embrace me, along with the tender smile of the woman behind the glass cabinets that contain jewellery. "Welcome, you're early," she grinned, waving me inside the store.

I nodded my head and stepped closer to her, my hand in my pocket, my eyes unable to focus on one particular item, the idea of knowing I can buy something nice causing my heart to skip a beat, across Fairmont and my eyes dart around like a kid in a candy store. "You seem nervous. Are you looking for anything particular? You look like you have no clue what you're doing," the lady questioned, taking note of my anxiousness that is settled in regards to my business meeting.

I cleared my throat, "I have a meeting in an hour, and I have no clue what I am doing, honestly," I began with a chuckle, trying to calm myself. I took a sip of my coffee, "I would like something nice for my girlfriend," I informed the lady, my eyes catching a glimpse of a set of rings to the right of the woman.

The lady followed my gaze and raised a brow, "My associate placed these rings on display this morning, newest collection," she informed me, taking it upon herself to take the collection of rings out of the brightly lit up glass and placing them in front of me to see.

For a minute, my breath hitched in my throat, thankful that the day has come where I can afford something as lovely as what is in front of me.

"Styles," Jammie's voice echoed as the store received a cold gust of wind. I turned around to observe Jamie closing the door behind him and shaking the coldness from his body. "Bloody cold out there," he muttered, walking closer to where I stood with a velvet box in my hand.

"Cartier," I responded, watching him walk closer to me.

"Is this what you do before meetings? Go into jewellery stores?" Jamie petted his hand to my shoulder, peering over to see me close the velvet box so he couldn't see what was inside. "Is that?" Jamie questioned.

"I'll take it. May I come back in a few hours to pay for it?" I questioned the lady, ignoring Jamie, who seemed overly curious in the little box. "What are you doing in here, Jamie?" I softly asked, unsure of why he was in here.

"I am looking for a gift for my wife, and it seems like you are looking to make Elise your wife," Jamie gestured towards the ring box that the lady was placed behind her, making sure it waited for me to come back.

"Would you like the necklace, too?" the lady interrupted, not giving me a chance to respond to Jamie.

I stopped and thought for a moment, unsure of whether to take the necklace as well. I didn't want it to be overkill. "He will take it," Jamie said to me, "Believe me, kid, you want to get her the necklace," Jamie pressed, stepping away from me and looking at the jewellery for his wife. "So, are you proposing?"

I shook my head, "No, we are not ready for that. I would prefer she and I at least finish school," I responded, "We are a bit too young."

Jamie rolled his eyes as he glared over at me, "You're a moron sometimes. Brilliant lad, but fucking stupid," Jamie laughed, pointing to an earring and necklace set for the assistant to show him.

I stepped closer to Jamie, closing the gap between us, "How so?" I questioned curiously. I had assumed holding off on marrying Elise would have been considered a bright idea.

"I was your age when I proposed to my wife. Didn't have this business or anything. I built it with her."

I nodded my head, "Yes, but-"

"There are no buts," Jamie cut me off, "Building together with a partner is the best advice I can give you. It will never be the right time to propose. You will never be fully ready until you do it."

"Sir, are you trying to tell me to propose?" I questioned with a raised brow.

This is not the conversation I intended to have at such an hour of the morning. "Harry, don't get caught up in waiting for the right time. That is what I am trying to tell you. As for you proposing... That is your decision," Jamie laughed, admiring the set he had picked out, his eyes staring at the diamonds. "I'll take the necklace; please find a bracelet that matches the necklace and earrings, too," Jamie smiled towards the lady.

"Think I will hold off on proposing, would like to have a house first," I shrugged, "Plus, we haven't gotten past our one year mark," I informed Jamie of our first anniversary that is coming up next month. I need to get past Christmas and our last few business deals before thinking of anything else.

"Buy that ring set now; you will talk yourself out of it if you don't," Jamie commented, "He will buy the rings now," Jamie spoke for me, gesturing towards the jewellery I had put aside to pick up after I closed the deal. "Don't fight me on it. Take my advice," Jamie pressed, pressuring me into buying the ring right then.

❇ ❇ ❇

I proceed to gaze out at the enveloped city, the soft white snow formulating a calmness as it falls. My fingers caress the small box in my pocket, a small box that promises to one day replace the ring with an engagement ring. One day, it may not be any time soon, but it will be one day. I know she was looking for assurance the other night when asking me about my five-year plan, and I know my words can only go so far. She is a part of my five-year plan, and we may be too young for a commitment as big as an engagement ring, but a ring of promise is suitable for now.

"You're early, Mr Styles, and younger than I expected," A man distracts me, and I turn around to stand in front of a man in a black suit and his hand extended out to me already.

I shake his hand, "Good morning, Mr Couture," I greet, disregarding his comment on my age. I may be and look younger than some would expect, but that is no measure of my intelligence or ability to perform my job. "On the table, I have the basis of the reports, followed by my counter-offers and assistance that could be offered and sustained shall you agree to my conditions. Feel free to read through them before we get started," I gesture towards the reports laid on the desk for the client.

"Your conditions?" Couture raises a brow, taken back by my comment.

I nod my head, "Yes, my conditions." I respond with narrowed eyes and no room for negotiation.

My conditions are my conditions. I have given this man three days to work with me and negotiate, he is proving to be a thorn in my ass, and I will not permit him to convey me on a wild goose chase. If he doesn't like my stipulations, that is his predicament, not mine.

The man nods his head with a slight grin, "Prompt and stern. I may have had the wrong impression of you."

"Ah, impressions can be one hell of a dead deal."

"How so?"

I shake my head, "I like to have an outcome in mind and have the right numbers to back it up. You appear like the kind of gentleman who wants answers first and details later. All answers are in the file, details to come once the meeting commences," I inform Couture, not pleased by his judgment. I feel no need to demonstrate how impressions can be deceiving and become a dead deal. As much as this conference produces Jamie with a few million dollars and me a modest paycheck, my commitment and strategies triple Couture's numbers, profiting him marginally over a short period of six months, something that customarily takes years. This is profoundly a win-win situation for all.

Assuming my work ethic depicts my age would be a disservice to him.

I will have other clients for Jamie, but Couture will not have my approaches and advancements. I may appear cocky and up myself, but I know what the hell I am arranging, and I know my limits. What I cannot succeed with Couture I can supplant with someone who recognises the value.

I tap my foot against the flooring under my feet, glaring towards Jamie as he sits in on the meeting, his pen tapping his lip. I cock my head to the side, watching him closely— he's getting antsy with the client, as am I.

"David," Jamie begins, but he stops himself. Jamie can't say what he is thinking. He is the CEO of a significant company and can't get too mouthy. But I can.

"We are going round in circles," I finish Jamie's sentence for him as I look down at the file I have in front of me. "Look at your history for the last quarter," I instruct, pushing my file over towards Mr Couture, not breaking eye contact with him. "Read it. Every line" I stand to my feet. My hands roost on the edges of the table like a cock on a hen house roof, claiming ownership and dominance. I have had enough.

Jamie might kill me for taking such a stance, but I am tired of chasing my ass with this guy. I am not going to be walked all over and treated like an idiot. This is my chance to take control, and I am fucking taking it.

I shake my head, "I will save you the trouble, sir," I begin, "Your Market Value as of 30 June 2015 was £1,948,746.93 and your Market Value as of 31 August 2015 £1,006,906.89. Now I am no mathematician, but that is quite the decrease."

David glances up at me, hating the fact I handed him my file as if he doesn't have his own in front of him, "Harry, what does that have to do with the fact that I don't like what we have negotiated?"

We have negotiated multiple times, and he isn't accepting any offer I give him.

Frustration crinkles my eyes, and I bite down on my tongue for a moment.

He can not be serious with his question.

"Your Current Asset Allocation in Equity is 33.1 per cent, your Bonds 50.5 per cent your Property 3.9 per cent, your Hedge Funds 2.5 per cent, your Liquidity Funds 7.0 per cent, and your Cash 3.1 per cent." I resight his assets off the top of my head, not giving a damn about whether he likes my tactic or not.

"This is what has to do with the fact you are sending him in circles here. David, you had a loss of nine-hundred and forty-one thousand in the last quarterly period." Finally, Jamie decides to speak up, getting on board with what I am doing. "If I had such a dramatic decrease, I would be scrambling to fix it because it can get a lot worse. So when he tells you that one wrong move can cripple you, he isn't lying," Jamie points to my Macbook that has the spreadsheets and charts on the screen. "He showed you what would happen if one minor thing happened in the stock market, that minor stock exchange rotation Harry explained, that will cripple you. You haven't even given him the chance to show you the serious impact any further when we bring in the asset issues." Jamie continues to back me up, attempting to get this pigheaded man to listen to me. "Don't shit on him because he is young," Jamie finishes his sentence before leaning back in his chair and looking towards me. He has said what he needs to say and now wants to sit in silence, watching the meeting.

David clenches his jaw, and his eyes narrow towards Jamie, his body stiff from the remark, but before he can speak and rip into Jamie or me for our comments, I cut him off. "Now, we can sit here and go in circles over everything, but it is either we agree with my terms for my vision for your portfolio, or we can kindly walk out. Then, I can implement my plan to someone who isn't going to question why my theory is something they need when they have lost close to a million dollars in three months." I push away from the desk, standing with a tall, erect posture, confidence brewing within me, making itself known. Deep down, however, I am shit scared that he will tell me to walk my ass out of here, and I will have to find Jamie someone to take David's place on our client list.

David closes the files in front of him and presses his hands on the desk, clamped together. David lets out a heavy breath, glancing between Jamie and me. "If I sign your agreements, you can assure me that I will get back that nine-hundred I lost, plus make a profit?"

"David," I begin, "I cannot guarantee you one-hundred per cent, but I am highly confident that not only will you get that nine-hundred back that you have lost, but you will be profiting marginally over a short period of six months, something that customarily takes years. You're looking at tripling what you currently have in assets alone. You can either trust me or watch your monkey market numbers decrease. It is up to you," I shrug my shoulders, standing back and keeping eye contact with David. David doesn't speak, he sits in silence, and I look towards Jamie, "When you're ready to make a decision, you can call me. Let's go, Jamie. I am done," I grab my files, along with my MacBook and my half-drunk coffee.

Jamie stands from his position, and we both walk out of the conference room, leaving David alone. "Styles, you better hope you have another client to fill his position," Jamie quietly mutters as we pass the desk of David's assistant.

I nod my head, "By the time I get to the elevator, he will be calling."

"You're confident in that. You better be right."

"Why?" I question, "Sweating and panicking that I fucked up?" I earnestly ask, making the strides to the elevator.

Jamie hands me his file to hold, "I am the CEO, I don't panic, but you will be panicking if you fucked up because I will be kicking your ass," Jamie informs me.

The phone in my pocket vibrates, and Jamie watches me throw my coffee into the bin by the elevator before I pull it from my pocket. I look down at the screen and grin, pressing the elevator button as I answer the phone. "Hello?"

As the caller on the other end greets me, my head turns the moment my name is called from down the hall. "One second," I murmur on the phone, watching as David hurries towards us.

"Harry," David breathes out, "I will sign with your conditions and negotiation but-"

I narrow my eyes on him and cut him off, "David, I have someone on the phone ready to take your place at Jamie's office. There are no buts, you're either all in, or you're not." I firmly state. I have given him enough chances. The ball is in my court.

"You drive a hard deal."

"I know what I am doing," I nod, "Are you signing or not?"

David nods his head, "I will. I am trusting you can fix this mess."

"Our lawyer will be in touch for you to sign the contracts within the next hour," I inform David, "Pleasure doing business with you," I hold my phone to my ear with my shoulder, reaching my hand out to shake his.

He shakes my hand and turns to Jamie, "Don't know where you found him, but keep him," David mutters, shaking Jamie's hand before walking away from us.

Jamie and I step into the elevator as it dings. "Wipe that smug grin off your face," Jamie chuckles, shaking his head as the elevator doors close.

I roll my eyes at him before remembering the phone to my ear, "Hey, baby. Sorry about that, give me a second, and I will call you back. I am going to lose service."

Jamie's jaw drops, "You weren't even on the phone with a new client!" Jamie seems surprised by my lack of truthfulness. It doesn't matter who is on the other end of my phone. It got the deal.

I smile at Jamie and shake my head, "You're welcome." Then, I cockily grin, watching as the elevator doors open.

Jamie and I step out into the brittle cold weather of Toronto, my body jerking at the sudden change from the warmth inside to outside. "Fucking, cold," Jamie mutters as I take out my phone and nod my head, agreeing with him that it is cold.

As promised, I call Elise while we make the walk towards the car, "Hey, I am sorry, I just finished the meeting... It went well... What's wrong, you sound a bit stressed?" I ask softly over the phone.

"They're starting to delay flights because the weather is meant to get bad. You were right. Are you staying over there?"

"As soon as the contracts are signed in the next hour, I will get the first flight out. So why are you worried?"

"They shut down the campus. They never do that. What if we do lose power? I'm at the apartment, but I am getting worried."

"We will not lose power. We will be fine. So stay home and stay off the road."

"How are you getting from the airport?"

"I will figure something out, don't worry about me. I have to go. I will text you when I get in the car."

I end our phone call and shove my hand into my pocket, trying to keep the bitter cold from taking over my entire body. "They're cancelling flights already," I inform Jamie.

"Already on it, I got the same texts from my wife," Jamie sighs, typing on his phone while we both hurry to the parking garage to where Jamie's driver awaits. It must be nice to have a private chauffeur to drive around everywhere. I could get used to this.

❇ ❇ ❇

I rub my eyes tiredly, the airport lights blinding me as I lead through the terminals, wanting nothing more than to get home and crawl between my sheets. Canada was an entirely exhausting trip, Jamie and I barely slept, and as enthralling as it was to have such a success, it killed me.

On the flight home, Jamie and I proceeded to work. It never appears to end. Whenever we think we have finished, something else is right there to take our attention immediately. I had no greater joy than to sign the documents the lawyer drew up for the contract. It was relieving to have my name inscribed on the dotted line next to Jamie's. We succeeded.

The airport is relatively lifeless at this hour, and only a few people are wandering the terminals. This is the hour I love to be in airports, they're withdrawn, and there's no hurry. I can assume the snowstorm is to blame for the quietness of the airport right now. They are starting to delay flights and cancel them. Jamie and I got lucky to get on one of the last flights into London before the storm hits.

I walk the long-drawn, tiled terminal with my duffle bag over my shoulder, my eyes burning from the lack of sleep, and my hand struggling to grasp my phone from my pocket.

I smile the moment I gaze up from my phone to notice Elise walking towards me, "Hey," I grin, dropping my bag to the floor and opening my arms, welcoming her with a warm embrace. "You came to pick me up," I whisper, the sweet gesture making my heart melt. Although I did not expect her to be awake and waiting for me to land at three in the morning, I had all intentions of getting an Uber home.

The sweet gesture means more to me than she knows.

"Of course," Elise responds, drawing away from the hug before I kiss her deeply.

Oh, how I've missed her and her kisses. I pull away from the sweet kiss, my hand caressed to her cheek as I beam at her, "I love you," I whisper, my thumb brushing her cheek before I kiss her again.

Elise pulls away, "I love you, too,"

"You must love me to meet me at the airport at this hour," I grin, picking up my bag and lacing my fingers with hers. "But, I'm pretty sure I said to stay off the roads."

Elise shrugs her shoulders, "It hasn't gotten bad yet. Do you want coffee or anything?" Elise offers, gesturing towards the coffee cart that already made a killing off of me before I left for Canada.

I shake my head, "No, I just really want a warm bed and a cuddle. Fuckin' plane was cold."

"I can make that happen," Elise grins, "I have something to tell you," Elise smiles, seeming excited as she bounces from side to side.

"I hope it's that you missed me." I chuckle.

Elise chuckles, "I was given a job opportunity," Elise informs me, undividedly excited and ready to tell me every inch of detail she has.

"Baby, that's great, tell me all about it," I instruct, giving her a swift congratulatory kiss. "I'm so proud of you."

Elise smiles widely, beginning to tell me about her job opportunity and what I have missed while in Canada. While she talks about everything, I let go of her hand and place my arm around her as we walk from the airport to the parking garages.

I listen to her intently, not missing a single word. I have missed not being able to hear her voice as much. The Canada trip has been tiring and draining. I only managed to call Elise a few times and talk for a few minutes. Most of it consisted of me making sure she was okay, and the weather hadn't gotten too severe.

There isn't a day where I don't want to hear her voice informing me about the things that delight her and her achievements. Overhearing her this excited is music to my ears. This woman deserves every inch of success she acquires, and she deserves every ounce of happiness in this world. Elise is an angel from heaven above; nothing anyone can say could change my mind.

"Do you want me to drive?" I offer as we reach her car.

Elise shakes her head, "No, you're tired," she responds, and I open the driver's side door for her.

I take my blazer off and launch it into the back seat before I slide into the car and lean back on the chair, the feeling of the heated leather seats soothing me in many ways. This feels like heaven, the warmth, the comfort, the woman by my side. I couldn't ask for anything more right now. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive?" I propose one last time as Elise yawns and massages her eyes for a moment.

Elise glances over at me and grants me a small grin, "I have slept a bit. You haven't. It's just thirty minutes," Elise assures me, leaning over and kissing my cheek, "Unless you don't trust my driving?"

I chuckle, "That's questionable," I joke, providing her with a wink before she rolls her eyes and settles her hands on the steering wheel. "I'm not the one who locked myself out of my car," I remind her of her incident a few months ago, finding humour in that night now that it is over.

Elise shakes her head, reversing out of the parking space, "I haven't missed the smartass comments."

"I think you have," I disagree, taking her hand in mine as she drives.

I am exhausted.

When I ventured to sleep in Canada, I didn't stay peaceful and asleep for long. Most of the nights, I would wake up after an hour, drenched in sweat with a heart beating faster than I could imagine. They're back, the torturous dreams and apprehensions of my Father. I may never get to escape the torment, but I sure do wish that one day I never have to worry about waking up in a fucking panic. Having to double-check locks all the time is not the way I want to live my life. I shouldn't have to double-check hotel rooms and my apartment because there is that thought in the back of my mind that he might be around.

I relocated to London to escape it all, to escape him, the memories and the torment. But, unfortunately, the more I strive to avoid the circumstances that have subdued me, the more they proceed to pursue me, presenting me with no chance at peace and freedom. My demons may continuously accompany me, but I will put them to rest one day before they put me six feet under.

I rest my head back in the seat, closing my eyes and falling asleep for the rest of the drive.

❇ ❇ ❇

A gold key rests on the coffee table in front of me beside the flickering Warm Leathered Amber candle. The apartment is calm and soothing, the scents of the candle bouncing throughout the small space. Anticipation runs through my veins, excitement fighting to conceal itself as time passes. Tonight is the night. I have all the bills paid, my mother's house is paid off, and I can celebrate the moment with the love of my life as soon as she gets to the apartment, an apartment that will soon be hers.

I have it planned out. Things are finally working in my favour. Tonight after dinner, while Elise and I watch one of the movies she has picked for us, I will ask her to move in with me. There is no sense in her moving back into her dorm when we start the next semester; Elise spends most of her time at my apartment anyway. Elise hates her dorm, and she doesn't want to make the forty-minute drive from campus to her parent's house, so it makes sense for her to move in here formally. I would prefer she moves her clothes in than keep leaving a toothbrush at my apartment.

Elise has been wondering about my five-year plan. Well, I am starting it here. Once I have my mother and sister financially situated, and my mother settles into her new job, I want Elise and I to move in together to a house of our own. I want us to buy a house together for us to start settling down into. I studied at what was on the market while I was in Canada one night when I couldn't sleep, and I want to move forward to accomplish that goal. Elise has a job opportunity, not that she needs it, but she and I could obtain a lovely, small home for the two of us until I can afford to buy the house of both of our dreams. Living in an apartment is not her dream, nor is it my dream. If I have to live in an apartment for another year, I want to move to a bigger apartment until we can buy a home. This is something to discuss with the beautiful girl who I am waiting on.

The door to my apartment opens, and I smile as I stand to my feet, greeting Elise immediately, "Hey, Elle," I move towards her, meeting her in the middle of the living room. I kiss her icy cheek and take her books from her hand. "How did it go?" I softly challenge, confident that her exam went well.

Elise lifts her shoulders into a shrug, taking her scarf off and placing it to drape over the couch before taking her coat off her shoulders. "I think I passed, but it wasn't easy," Elise informs me, "I have one more to go, thank fucking God. This might be the death of me."

I grin at her and nod, "Global fundamentals of china?" I question.

"The last one," Elise sighs, "I don't know how you survived. I don't."

I place her books down on the kitchen counter where she tends to study before I turn around to face her, "A lot of coffee and the use of swear words." I admit with a chuckle. Graduating early wasn't as easy as I made it out to be. Not many people saw the sleepless nights and the constant coffee intake I had to participate in. On some nights, I added whiskey to my coffee and pushed through. Nothing in life is ever easy; everything comes at some cost. My cost was my sanity and my lack of sleep. It was worth it. I would rather be where I am now, working myself half to death, than to be still doing my bachelors. My Masters might be what kills me, but it will be worth it once I am done.

"My parents invited us to dinner this weekend. Apparently, I have neglected my duties as their daughter," Elise begins, walking around me and stepping into the kitchen, "Care to go? Promise you can talk business with my Father."

"What makes you think I want to talk business with him?"

Elise rolls her eyes and shakes her head, "That is all you two talk about. It is like you aren't civilised to discuss other things."

"Uhm, excuse me, I find that offensive," I laugh, "We talk about other things."

"Talking about the stock market doesn't count."

"Sure it does, "... "You're just jealous."

"I am not intrigued by business. Are you coming?"

I chuckle and nod my head, "Yes, baby. I will be there with bells and whistles."

Elise shakes her head, "Don't wear bells and whistles," Elise laughs, opening the oven and glancing over at me, "No dinner?" Elise frowns.

"What am I? Your personal chef and study guide?"

Elise chuckles and nods her head, "Don't forget you're also my lover."

I roll my eyes as she steps closer to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Don't blow smoke up my ass." I press a kiss to her forehead, "Dinner is getting delivered. I got home too late to cook."

"I could have picked something up while I was out," Elise smiles, "I don't just hang around for your cooking," Elise assures me, leaning up and kissing me gently, "The studying... that is another story," Elise jokes, kissing me again.

"Mhm," I hum... "I am going to take a quick shower. Dinner should be here in just a few." I inform Elise, kissing her one last time before drawing away from her and beginning to walk down the hallway. I turn to look over my shoulder, "Care to join me?"

"Someone has to answer the door for the food," Elise shakes her head, "Perhaps you can join me when I shower later," Elise teases, causing me to sigh.

My shower was peaceful. The warm water running down my back was enough to loosen the tension in my shoulders and the stiffness I had in my neck from spending most of my day studying. I have two more exams before I am done for Christmas break, and I am thrilled to get two weeks off from school; however, my time will be consumed with work. I may or may not have to fly out somewhere in that period.

I discover my name echo the apartment, Elise's voice distracting me as I pull my sweatpants up my leg, "Elle?" I call out, throwing my towel to the corner of the bedroom where the dirty hamper is.

Elise calls my name again, the sound of her voice producing me to panic. It isn't calm and collected. It isn't sweet and loving; her voice is laced with fear. I hear glass shatter and a squeal escape Elise's lips as I bustle out of the bedroom, rounding the corner immediately and hammering my feet against the flooring. My heart drops, and my eyes become red.

He has her. He has her in his grasp, his dirty hand presses to her waist and his fingers coil around her neck. Elise's white sweater is stained red as she attempts to fight back. I urge closer to the two of them, my hands grasping my Father and breaking his contact with Elise. I shove him away from her, forcing him against the wall. "Run, Elle!" I yell, wrestling my Father, doing my best to punch his alcohol-infused body.

"I can't," Elise breathes, her voice faint, but I manage to hear her over the vibration of my Father and me scuffling. "Harry," my name falls from her lips, and I make the mistake of taking my eyes off of my Father and looking at her.

Elise struggles to take steps forward, her body wavering before she falls to the floor, her hands clasped to her sweater, "The glass," Elise breathes, her eyes glancing over at me.

No. He didn't. No.

I drive my Father away from me, and I run towards Elise, crouching down to where her body sits, "Elle, look at me," I instruct, my hand covering hers as she holds the wound my Father inflicted on her. "You're okay, I promise. Don't close your eyes, jus' give me a minute," I plead, discerning the light in her eyes beginning to fade. I reach over to the table and grab my phone, dropping it in Elise's lap the moment my body is hoisted from behind, and I am thrown against the wall. I let out a grunt, and my Father begins to hammer into my body, beating either side of my ribs and finding the upper hand before his fingers enclose around my neck.

"Told ye' you couldn't run. Look what happens when you run," the sinister man in front of me spits as I do my best to fight him off of me, my lungs beginning to beg for air.

"Not her. Kill me, not her," I gasp, my eyes leaving my Father and focusing on Elise, who is helplessly viewing, gushing blood all over the living room.

"She called for help. She won't make it. If she does, you sure won't." He releases his tight grip on my neck, just enough for me to grasp a bit of air. "You're going to watch, and then I will kill you," he threatens, keeping me pinned to the wall.

"Elise! It'll be alright." I assure her doing everything I can to find the strength to unpin myself from my Father's hold.

"She's sweet. I quite liked her," My Father hums, "Been watching her for a while. Her Daddy has money, she is a nice girl, always polite to everyone, it's a real shame you let her die."

"I'm not letting her," I shake my head, using my strength to push on him, but it isn't enough. I am not enough. "ELLE!"... "If money is what you want, you can have it. Let me go, let me help her."

"No, I want to see you suffer like I had to suffer," My Father responds, laughing at my efforts to unpin myself. "It won't work. You should know that when I get you in this position, you are worthless."

"Elle, baby, keep your eyes open... You son of a bitch," I mutter towards my Father, "Elise!"

Elise takes a breath and coughs, her eyes slamming shut, "Bet that is painful," My Father hums, entirely delighted by the situation and the destruction he is causing.

My heart breaks at the sight of Elise, my Father's fingers beginning to tighten on my throat, slowly cutting off my air supply.

"Oh, coughing blood, that has to be painful. Elle, darling, how you are holding up over there?" My Father remarks, glancing over towards Elise, keeping his fingers wrapped tightly around my throat. "Did you need some help?" He offers with an evil tone.

By the grace of God, I manage to move my arms, grasping enough air and power to punch my Father, escaping his grasp. I reach to the left, grab a vase off the mantle, and pivot it across my Father's face, knocking him out cold to the floor. I take in a deep breath before I find myself by Elise, holding her body, the colour red causing my head to spin. "Elise, stay with me, stay with me," I beg, holding her close to me, "I promise, jus' a bit longer," I continue, beginning to pray that the woman I love isn't taken from me. "Stay with me, Elle."

"Harry," Her voice is weak, "I love you, okay?"

I shake my head, "No, darling, we are not doing this. I love you, but you're going to be fine."

"It's okay," Elise responds as if she already knows her outcome.

I refuse to accept it. I refuse to know this is how we end. This isn't the end. I hold her close, humming to her as her body gets weaker and weaker, falling into me slowly. "Please, stay with me," I whisper, over and over again, my breath hitching in my throat, praying she doesn't take her last breath.

❇ ❇ ❇

I wake up with a gasp, catching my breath as I force the covers off my body, struggling to untangle myself from the bed. The covers are holding me down against my will, urging me to stay tangled up in the sheets like a vine that is suffocating my body, binding itself around me with every moment.

I need to get out; I need to get up.

I force myself away from Elise's touch that has been shaking me. I ignore her gaze, and I shift myself off the bed, finding my feet and walking out of the bedroom with a racing heart and sweat all over me. My hands reach the hem of my t-shirt, and I aggressively pull it up and over my head, throwing it to the floor of my hallway, not giving a damn. I'll pick it up later.

I reach my kitchen, where my heels hit the frigid tiles, cooling me down with every step I take across them, leading me to the fridge. I open the stainless steel door, the bright light causing me to squint while my hand rummages to obtain a bottle of water. The moment my hand touches the plastic top, I waste no time taking the cap off and taking an expeditious drink of the cold water. I close the fridge with my foot and step to my counters, placing down the bottle. I clasp my hands to the edges of the marble countertops, and I bow my head, taking in deep breaths as my mind flashes back to the dream that took my breath away. All I see is red.

I discover the flooring creaking and Elise's footsteps creeping from the bedroom down the hallway. I lift my head slightly to observe her walking down the hallway, her arms wrapped around her as she's clad in nothing but one of my sweaters that hangs loosely over her body. "H?" Elise's voice is soft as it leaves her lips, and she pauses between the kitchen and the hallway, almost as if she's unsure whether to proceed with caution or not.

I swallow hard and do my best to grant her a small smile, but I can't. I can hardly find the words to speak. All I see is her blood all over the flooring and all over my hands. All I can feel is my Father's hands wrapped around my neck. "Can I— can I come closer?" She questions with a soft voice, breaking my heart at the fact she has to ask.

I didn't intend to push her away when she woke me from my slumber. It's an instinct sometimes— something that I'll have to work on. Sometimes, I go into fly or fight mode. It's out of habit from my past. But, when you're woken up by your drunk Father yelling and throwing you around your childhood bedroom at the young age of seven, you learn to defend yourself even in your sleep.

I nod my head, focusing on my breathing and glancing back down at the marble counter of my kitchen, my hands squeezing at the edges to release the tension I'm holding in. Elise shuffles closer to me at a languid pace, almost as if she's frightened I'm going to pounce like a lion. "Love," I whisper, "Not going to hurt you," I manage to let out, hating myself that she's walking on eggshells.

Elise touches her warm hand to my bare back as I breathe out and bow my head a little further. "What's going on?"

"Just a bad dream," I shake my head, her soothing circles calming me down and levelling out my breathing.

"Harry, this happened three times before you left for Canada."

"What?" I question, lifting my head and turning slightly to look at her.

Elise drops her hand from my back and moves her hand to glide down my shoulder and towards my arm, "Baby, I've woken you up a few times from these dreams. But, of course, you fall right back asleep, do you not remember?"

"No." I shake my head. I had no clue she had woken me up previously. "When did it start?" I question, reaching for my water bottle and taking a drink. My body feels overly hot still from the dream and the anxiety inside me.

The kitchen is silent as Elise thinks for a moment, "Well, I'd say maybe a month ago. You're covered in sweat and look pale, let's sit you down," Elise gestures towards the couch.

"It's too hot in here; I'm going to open the door to the balcony for a moment."

"Harry, you'll catch a cold standing out there covered in sweat," Elise shakes her head as I step around her and walk towards the balcony doors.

I need fresh air; even if it's cold outside, I feel like I might suffocate and overheat if I don't feel the cold. I squeeze down on the gold handle and crack the door open, immediately welcoming the chill. I open the door a little further, just enough for my body to feel the dash of bitter coldness hurry past me. I stand for a moment, breathing in the coldness and feeling my body relax and decompress. The heat was about to take me down.

I sense a hand on my back, and I glance over my shoulder to observe Elise. She leans up and kisses my warm cheek before she settles a blanket over my shoulders, draping it around me. I give Elise a small smile, and she wanders away, stepping towards the kitchen. I don't have to ask her what she's doing. I already know.

In a few seconds, I'm going to hear the kettle is placed on the stove and the clinking of two mugs being placed on the counter. Despite the fact I'm more of a coffee drinker, whenever she makes herself a cup of tea, she'll make me one as well, never bothering to ask whether I'll drink it or not. She just does it. It's her love language to do small things without being asked. I close the balcony door, locking it and double-checking it, my insanity kicking in at the idea of my Father scaling the building and breaking in through an open balcony door. Of course, I can't see the drunk son-of-a-bitch climbing a tower before a snowstorm, but with his drunk self, I cannot put anything past him. I don't want him to get to Elise. I would never forgive myself if he ever touched her.

I wander towards the kitchen, and I lean on the counter, watching Elise pour the hot water equally into the two mugs, "Have I ever told you that you're the best thing to happen to me?" I softly question, her eyes leaving the mugs as they glance up towards me.

She smiles widely at me, placing the kettle down and lifting her shoulders into a shrug before shaking her head, "You're just saying that from the lack of sleep."

"No," I shake my head, "I'm serious; you are wholeheartedly the best thing to walk into my life."

"I didn't exactly walk," Elise begins, "You sort of worked your charm and lured me in," Elise chuckles, picking up the mugs and handing me mine.

I wrap my fingers around the handle as her hand holds the mug from the rim that isn't hot. "I don't know what I did, but I'm glad it worked," I respond before I place my mug down beside me. "Darling," I gesture for her to step forward. Elise places her mug down, and I put my hands on her hips and close the space between us. "I'm sorry for pushing you away. It was a reaction, nothing to do with you." I begin to apologise for my actions. My intentions are not to harm her in any way.

"It's okay."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" I softly ask, my eyes looking her up and down.

"Besides hurting my ego, no," Elise smiles.

I lift the palm of my hand to her cheek and launch a few strands of hair behind her ears, "Can't have me bruising your ego, darling. Fight back," I wink, leaning down and kissing her tenderly, "I'm sorry, and I love you, bruised ego and all," I whisper, pressing my forehead against hers, my hands moving to rest in the small of her back.

Elise snakes her arms around my neck, leaving no space between our bodies, "Only you would get a rise from this," Elise comments, her eyes glancing from my eyes to my lips.

Fuck, she's doing it again.

"Last time you did this, I was late for a flight."

"Good thing we have all night. Huh, baby?" Elise whispers in my ear, sending sweet shivers down my spine and my body into overdrive.

I sense her press her body against mine, her lips touching the slender column of my neck and leaving sweet, subtle kisses on my fevered skin. Elise drops her arms and caresses her hands to my abs, and I tilt my head to the side, enabling her to kiss my neck vigorously. I transfer my hands from their position in the small of her back, my hands travelling across her lower back before slipping under my sweater she's wearing. I grin as I squeeze her ass, feeling her breath against my neck before she bites down benevolently. "Oh," I breathe out, feeling her suck on my bare skin, my agile hands moving and gripping at her hips, shifting my body up against hers as I feel the blood rush to the surface of my neck. She's going to leave a mark, and it's turning me on more than ever.

I clasp my hands to the back of her thighs, "Jump," I instruct, her legs immediately wrapping around my torso as her hands reach for my hair and our mouths clash, tongues eager to taste the honey flavour.

I force her against the closest wall, a gasp falling from her lips as she draws away and catches her breath from our onslaught of passionate kisses. Her feet touch the floor, and I grasp her wrists, benevolently wrapping my fingers around them before pinning her arms above her head on the wall, nothing but heat and tension radiating between the small space of our bodies. As her arms are above her head, my sweater raises to reveal her lacy blue panties, the sweater remaining just at her hips. "Again with the lace," I grin.

Lace caused my head to spin.

I let go of her wrists, and I lift the sweater to reveal a little bit more skin. I discreetly lower myself down, one hand clasping the back of her thigh, the other holding the sweater above her hips. I lean forward and kiss her tender skin at her hip, thoughtfully leaving a trail of kisses towards her stomach before reaching the hem of her lace. I gaze up at her, her hands back to running through my hair while her head is against the wall, her chest rising rapidly. I bring the lace between my teeth, and I gradually push them down her leg.

"Did you just?" Elise is breathless.

"Mhm," I hum with a saucy grin, letting go of the lace between my teeth, watching them drop down the rest of her legs. I squeeze the back of her thigh as I begin to kiss her inner leg, making my way ever so moderately up. Finally, I reach her inner thigh and kiss the tender skin before I bite down gently. Payback.

"Harry," Elise breathes, her leg already quivering with every slow and sloppy kiss I leave on her inner thigh, gradually inching further and further to her heat.

"Yes, darling?" I softly challenge, looking up at her with innocence.

Oh, if looks could kill.

"Don't worry, darling. I'll show the other thigh some love," I cheekily assure her, moving to her other thigh, again leaving sloppy, wet kisses and tampering with her sanity.

She draws at my hair, moaning while I migrate my kisses further up her thigh, stopping when I hear her softly moan, her hands tugging at my hair. I cockily grin to myself, gliding my tongue across the bundle of nerves, causing her to go weak instantly, her fingers loosening to their grip for a brief moment. I continue my movements, keeping one hand gripped to the back of her thigh, leaving my handprint engraved in her skin for the time being.

Her legs quiver, and I feel her hands' press to my shoulders as she squirms against me, my tongue trying to find the right spot that she has been longing for. She moans my name, enthralling me further and feeding my ego and praising kink. "Harry, my legs," she breathes out, moaning harder, fighting what's coming at her in digging waves while my hands grip the back of her thighs to keep her steady. "Don't stop, though," she presses, tugging on my hair. "Right there. Oh my god, Harry." Her voice is delicate but full of narcotic power, fueling my ego further.

Elise gasps, and I feel her body jerk forward. I'm swift to my feet as I grab her and place my leg between hers, giving her something to balance on as she falls into me. "Fuck, I must be good," I chuckle, feeling her chest rising rapidly, her legs trembling like a baby deer venturing to find its legs.

Elise lifts her head to glance at me with a devilishly smile and smouldering eyes, "Mhm," she hums, leaning forward and kissing my lips nonchalantly, beginning to fire me up again.

"Baby," I carefully pull away, "You sure you want to start this again?"

Elise nods, "Keep going."

"You're barely standing," I point out that I'm holding most of her body weight. I should have known the first time doing this against the wall, and making her stand would result in my ego being boosted.

"Vanilla," Elise whispers, "No foreplay, no teasing, just—"

"Vanilla sex," I cut her off, nodding my head and caressing my hands to the back of her thighs, squeezing lightly for her to wrap her legs around my waist again. Elise lazily wraps herself around me and begins to slowly make out with me while I leisurely make my way back to my bedroom.

I lay her down on the bed, hovering over her as she smiles into our kiss, "Elle, slow and vanilla?" I ask permission, making sure this is what she wants.

Elise nods her head, "Slow and vanilla," she smiles.

When she asks for Vanilla, that is exactly what she will get... No questions asked.