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"And I suppose you're also going to say that taking a swim with a bloody siren was my fault too?"

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I DIDN'T KNOW when I fell asleep. It could have been right after Miss Moonshine stuck a mega-size needle in my arm.

Probably then, because I could still feel the sore spot as my eyes fluttered open, drinking in the darkness that surrounded me, only illuminated by the bedside lamp that sat beside my bed.

I didn't make a point to move, allowing my eyes to adjust to the light. It was already evening, and the sun was a mere highlight in the sky, darkness consuming the rest of the night sky.

"Good, you're awake."

My ears pricked up at the sound of the voice, blinking rapidly to make out the figure that hid halfway in the shadows across my room, leaning against the wall in the darkness of the beds across me that were, fortunately, patientless and therefore not illuminated by their bed lights.

I breathed out slowly as the figure pushed from the walls, finally walking into a part of the room that was at least touched by my single light.

Harvest stood before me, his eyes trailing down my figure and my eyebrows arched feeling a little more creeped out than I usually felt around him.

Had he been watching me sleep?

My eyes watched him attentively widening with each step he took closer to me, a frown wedging against my face even though any slight movement of my joints ached like crazy.

He walked right up to me, lowering his head down so close I had to push my head back into the pillow to avoid our foreheads bumping or even worse- our lips accidentally touching.

Just the thought made my stomach turn, eyes wide, his face an inch away from me, the trinket dangling from his neck a few inches above my nose.

His eyes trailed around my face, momentarily, his hot breath fanning my face, his eyes narrowed in mine, "How does it feel to come close to death twice?" he huffed before standing straighter, tucking his hands in his coat, "I swear you're like a magnet for trouble," he muttered lowly to himself but I caught it quite alright.

My frown deepened.

Me? A magnet for trouble?

Well maybe he was kind of right, but in this equation, HE WAS THE TROUBLE.

I was only falling into all this mess because of him and ha! He was wrong about one thing at least that should go on record.

I have been close to dying thrice not twice, but he couldn't know that.

But maybe he should know, maybe he should know that his stubbornness was the reason I almost drowned in a lake by A FRICKIN SIREN, and why ALL MY BONES felt hollow and why ALL MY JOINTS ached to the core.

I reached the point that maybe I would even prefer a peaceful passing over into the afterlife than having my body feel like it was run over by a FRICKIN TANK.

Even Zali had never overworked me like this. I felt like a corpse breathing.

My mind was a crumbling mess and all that was echoing through me was only the result of the one person my mind blamed with all its strength.

The person in front of me now.

I breathed out lowly, man I had never felt this mad in my life.

I felt like I could burn a hole in his skull. Fear seemed to disappear within me and instead what replaced it was a wave of brewing anger, a little timid at first but a growing spark that could be a potential wildfire.

He looked away from me and my gaze turned to burn holes in his back fisting my sheets though even the joints in my fingers felt sore.

He slowly moved across the room grabbing something before turning back to me, placing it on my bed.

"You left this behind," he began handing me my bag.

I stared at it for a second, looking at the half-opened bag I was so sure I had zipped close.

He took out my notebook, opening it right before me and my eyes widened. This wasn't the first time he was reading it quite alright, but I had 'updated' quite a few poems on my thoughts of him.

It was just out of habit.

I had to cope with the panic he set off in me every time he was near me. And let's just say, I had a few words packed in there I hoped he wouldn't read.

"My eyes look like prisons." He stated rather than asking looking down at me.

I could feel myself freeze for a moment and he sighed looking back down at the book.

"Definitely a first," he muttered to himself, flipping the page over, eyes trailing over the words then suddenly raising an eyebrow at a poem that I knew existed on that page, my fingers playing roughly with my blankets nervously.

"Now I know we're enemies but this is kind of mean isn't it?" he asked, showing me the poem, raising an eyebrow.

I glanced at the poem momentarily.

So, I might have said his heart matched the color of his coat, and maybe I might have said he might not even have a heart at all. I kind of felt bad about it at this moment, which was quite the opposite of how I felt when I was writing that.

I watched as he sat on my bed, pushing his coat to the side, eye trailing up to mine, "I didn't want to tell you this, but since we're exchanging compliments," he began with a slight huff, in a mocking tone, "you can't write poetry," he stated handing me my book.

I looked him dead in the eye as he said this, my fingers clasping around my book roughly though he didn't let go of it,

" it's just a jungle of words that have no meaning," he added, letting go of the book and then rubbing his fingers together momentarily as if wiping the dirt off it, getting up to his feet with a sigh, eyes staring out the half-open window.

"Now if you do me a favor and be a good little leviathan who isn't always at the brink of death every time I turn around or even the topic of conversation, " he paused glancing down at me, "I think we would all be a little bit better off, wouldn't we?" he asked, his jaw ticking momentarily.

He was blaming me?

My eyes narrowed on him shaking my head, leaning forward despite the ache, I grabbed my notebook and the dangly sparkly pink pen that hang from its side, jotting angrily in it.

He seemed a little surprised at my action, momentarily turning to face me fully, eyes watching me scribble in my notebook.

I flipped the book dramatically holding it up for him. Tapping my words twice frustratingly. His eyes trailed over it and I took it down again, underlining the word I wanted him to realize-

'This is all YOUR fault.'

I had graciously printed it out for him. He seemed surprised for a moment but it was my turn to raise an eyebrow waiting for him to say something.

I had a pen this time, I could write all day.

He chuckled darkly at this, seemingly amused.

"My fault?" he echoed, "says the girl with a pick-me face. What part? The hypnotist was only following Lucas' lead. Therefore it seems to me, you should blame him for that," he grunted out.

'YOU let him mess with my brain, knowing as a recruit, he was yet to control his powers!' I fired back, my hands rushing down the words, a stormy look clouding my eyes.

He was going to take the blame for this one this time around. My body didn't even hurt this bad when I fell from the sky-

He shook his head in what seemed like a growing irritation, after reading my words,

"and I suppose you're also going to say that taking a swim with a bloody siren was my fault too?" he reminded me.

I took my book again, my fingers shaking at my sudden bravery as I jotted my response down.

I didn't even know if it was bravery or stupidity to be literally shouting in all caps at my Alpha, but it seemed to drive me far enough and I was praying it finished the chaos it had begun already, flipping the book over with my defending argument printed on it, breathing heavily.

'I was trying to FIND YOU.'

He paused momentarily, eyes digging into mine.

"Well then, thank the bloody gods, I found YOU." He took a deep breath out, running a hand through his hair, muttering lowly to himself, "arguing with an ungrateful little brat," he shook his head, " how low did I fall?" he hissed, to what I believed was supposed to be to himself.

My eyes flashed in anger at him.

Maybe I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth but I was not a brat in any way, and I most certainly did not appreciate being called one.

My hand immediately went back to work, jotting angrily all I wanted to say so harshly I kept making mistakes, ripping the paper from the book and crumpling it up, before starting afresh only to not be able to adequately account for all the words I desired to say to him, for every fear he put into me that seemed to have shifted to anger, crumpling it up and throwing it away, wanting to scribble down a whole other paragraph but failing to-

"Careful now darkness, you're running out of ink," he grunted a smug look on his face. My eyes widened tenfold at this.

Darkness?

Who the heck was he calling Darkness?

I was breathing heavily now my eyes glaring at him with a new form of Bravery AKA potential Stupidity flicking the pen up and down to get the ink going with a newfound determination which he seemed to find amusing, as I flipped the page around only to be hit with a hardcover-

"Oh Good-and now you've run out of paper too," he added.

I glanced at him then down at my finished notebook breathing in heavily. He wouldn't win this round, I couldn't let him.

"Tell me, is this also my fault too? I just have to be sure," he mocked.

Yes, it was all his fault.

If he wasn't so infuriating and this insufferable then I wouldn't have wasted so much paper.  I looked straight into those blue eyes of his plucking the last shreds of my makeshift bravery, pointing to the door sharply, my jaw rigid.

This seemed to do the trick, wiping that smug look off his face, his face now a blank canvas as his eyes trailed to the door, then back at me raising an eyebrow.

"Are you trying to send me away?" he asked, his tone holding disbelief.

I paused for a moment, swallowing hard at the expression on his face, bravery faltering for a second before jotting down the last two words of the evening on the last paper of the book, showing it up to him slowly.

'Please leave."

I could see his expression change like a light bulb switching off which scared me half to death.

He calmly walked toward me and I could feel my heart pound harder with each step, my brain sending signals to my body that danger was approaching.

The shake returned to my hands as he grabbed my notebook from my hand looking down at the two words. He tore the paper out of the book crumpling it up and tossing it with the others before leaning in, one arm over me, the other caging me on my side, faces inches apart.

His eyes momentarily trailed down my face, trailing back up again.

"You look tired," he registered, "The imaginary fire you were dying from must have burned you out -" he grunted although his tone sounded less than caring, calm and creepy was best to describe it, and I frowned momentarily, his words seemed to hold a deeper meaning that eventually was revealed in his next line.

"And it is because of this that I will let this one slide, but I will only say this once," his head tilted, eyes caging me in his, a coldness brewing in them, "In this little game you're having me play, this little loop of ours, we are not equals," he gritted out each word whilst I searched his eyes my heart beating frantically.

"I am an original, you are the newest recruit, I am the Alpha you are my little omega," he smirked, his fingers brushing my jaw leaving a trail of goosebumps, "and while I am as you said, as dark as night, " he revealed, his tone dipping into something that chilled me to the bone, "you are my innocent little darkness."

He paused at this, his eyes trailing to his hand on my skin, before retracting, leaving me both scared and confused as he stood up to his full height with a deep sigh, his hand sliding back down in his coat.

"Get some rest, we will meet again soon enough," he grumbled as if not a big fan of the idea.

He looked at me one more time with what I suppose should have been a polite nod before walking out of the door.

I sat staring at the place he had once occupied feeling like a shell of myself after all that I had just gone through.

I was dealing with a bloody psychoplath.

And yet even though all the words that he had said echoed through my mind like a record,  a hand over my beating heart, only one thought passed through my mind at the moment-

Why did he smell so good?

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I Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! It was a whirlwind and I enjoyed writing more on Harvest's character. I was going for something a little more mysterious and yet a kind of Klaus Michelson personality to him (from The Originals). What do you think of Harvest now?
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