💕💕💕 I want Fence Fox in my life!!! 💕💕💕

💕💕💕 I want Fence Fox in my life!!! 💕💕💕

Another Home (This fanfiction doesn’t belong to me. It is from peach girl on http://www.onedirectionfanfiction.com/ )

Chapter 1 by PeachGirl
He watched her as she sipped her water. The time was 12:01 in the early hours of the next day. It was pitch black outside, and he could see clearly through the dining room window she was in due to the light that was on. 

Her laptop was facing the window he was leaning against, and he could clearly see the interesting contrast between the tabs she had on internet explorer: A YouTube video of One Direction Funniest Moments, Google Images of ‘cutest baby poplar bears’, A fan-fiction she was writing on a website called Wattpad, the research of Nearsightedness, a story of some kind she was reading, and the song SOS by Rihanna on Aimini. 

She was seated in a position that enabled her face to be in clear view of his gaze, and he watched her with ease, his tall frame allowing him to easily see through the first story window, and her poor eyesight keeping her from spotting him easily. She’d have to open the window and inspect the outdoors to find him. 

He loved to see the entirely different expressions on her face, from happy to admiring to annoyed to sassy, where she would always snap her fingers and pretend to flip her hair at the screen as though dissing someone. He loved when she would laugh right after. He hated seeing her sad, though. There was something making her sad tonight, and he knew it had something to do with that story she was reading that he couldn’t quite point out. 

He’d see her hand go to her heart every time she looked at the polar bears, an expression of awe and yearning on her face, as though she’d love to hold one. 

He would see her testing her vision by taking a magazine and covering one eye while trying to read it from afar, and doing the same with the other eye-seeing by the way she was doing that along with the research she was doing, she probably found herself to be losing eyesight. He watched her laughing her ass off at the crazy videos of him and the lads, making his heart beat harder whenever she would rewind anything with him in it. He loved it when she would occasionally touch the screen right where his face was and smile or watch him in admiration or even point and laugh at him. Any attention directed towards him was happily welcomed. 

He had to close his eyes and let his imagination run wild whenever she pouted her lips or pursed them as though she was ready to kiss someone. 

He watched her stand up from her seat time and time again to either go get another water bottle, or for a bathroom break-which he figured since she was drinking so much water. He kept his gaze on her long legs, her silk booty shorts riding up whenever she switched positions in her chair, the oversized t-shirt she was wearing being the only thing to cover up her inner thighs whenever she’d sit in a cross-legged position, which alarmed him since there was a man in the house. He didn’t like the idea of any other man but him seeing her like this, even if it was just her father. 

Her beautiful, long blonde curly hair was currently in a bun, showing no trace of its usual unruly waves. He watched her pick at some strands falling out, knowing she was itching to just run her fingers through her hair and twirl her blonde strands as she did every single time he watched her, which had been every few days for the past few months that he’d been on tour here in America. He would take a quick night jet every break he got to come see her at her home in Ausable Forks, New York so as not to be spotted, but to see her nonetheless. 

He had first spotted her when he had gotten lost on his way from the mall back to his hotel, which he had taken a taxi to instead of taking his rental car. Forgetfully, he had gone there without his wallet, which thankfully he’d found later on his bed in the hotel, and his mobile had died just when he had needed to call for someone to come pick him up. He had used all of his pocket money to pay the driver when he’d first brought him to the mall, leaving him flat out broke right after. So much for buying souvenirs in a mall far from home! 

He had been dressed in a disguise more or less, one that made him look years older than he actually was, and was surprised that such a beautiful young girl would stop what she was doing and come over to check if he was alright. Her beautiful light blue eyes had spotted his large dark figure from afar under the tree he had been waiting at as it poured and poured outside, while everyone that passed him had merely ignored him without a second glance. 

He hadn’t even needed to explain his situation to have her call a cab for him, pay the cab, and have them bring him back to his hotel. He had seen the cab fare meter and it had charged her over fifty dollars to take him back since the location wasn’t exactly close, not to mention the generous tip she must have given the driver by the way he’d thanked her over and over. 

Her exact words to the cab driver had been, “Sir, I only ask in return that you please bring this gentleman to his destination safely, and make sure he gets inside safe. Please.” 

She had then asked Harry if he needed any money, which he had politely refused, and she had told him her name and even given him her number in case he needed her, making sure he knew that ‘he needn’t worry about paying her back.’ He knew she had been a little wary about handing her number out to a stranger, but he knew everything she had done that day had been out of a pure heart-not just mere pity. 

On the back of her little note, she had written “May God bless you,” before smiling and waving at the cab as it drove off. He hadn’t even told her his name. She hadn’t even known he was a young guy, much less Harry Styles. 

But in her eyes, he was a human being. Helpless or not, he was just as much a brother on this earth as any other normal, fortunate soul, and for that, he was grateful. Except for the brother part-he would never want to be her brother. Not when he could be her man. 

He had been too shocked to even speak to her, much less tell her ‘Thank you,’ and had been determined from that day on to find her and thank her. Thing was…when he had found her, he hadn’t been able to do anything but stare in awe with his mouth ajar as she helped a little boy up from the ground and helped him find his mom, who had been searching frantically for him as well. 

Every time Harry saw her that day, she was doing some sort of deed-be it standing outside the library when she’d finished getting her books and opening doors for any person coming through until her ride had arrived, or keeping an elderly company until he or she got onto the bus they were waiting for. He noticed how if she didn’t have her hands holding onto her backpack, they would always be folded well-manneredly behind her back-much similar to him whenever he was on T.V.

Apart from wanting to get to know her, he started to want her-really want her, to the point that he needed her. He saw that she hung out with no one, and stayed at home most of the time when she wasn’t out doing her deeds. He saw that she lived with a middle-aged man and woman, whom he assumed were her parents, and she constantly played with a large cat they owned-which was a domesticated Siberian Lynx, he’d researched. She would walk it and everything, never needing to put it on a leash since it would obey her every command. 

He noticed she went to church often during the week, and when he’d sneaked a glance inside the church a few times, he saw that she was either seated with the woman she lived with, or by herself at the corner in the last row of benches. 

He saw that she was always alone, but never really seeming lonely, since she always had a welcoming smile on her face, and seemed very happy no matter what the color of the sky. 

He would get pissed every time he saw anyone of the male population take a glance at her, and had even caught a few female gazes remain on her for too long. He loved the way she dressed conservatively, which usually consisted of a t-shirt or long sleeve shirt along with a flowy skirt and some converse. He saw that she never wore makeup, and loved that she accepted herself for who she was. She didn’t need makeup. She didn’t even need sun to glow, for she was the light of the day. Her skin had a beautiful natural tan to it, and he knew her golden hair was natural by the way her roots always grew in that color, and the way she would run out of the house at times with it still dripping for it to dry on its own. 

He saw that she loved to sing, but had never really heard her since he could only see her lips moving through the window at night-she never did it outside within earshot of anyone. 

He would always watch her full lips moving when she sang her heart out quietly so as not to disturb the others in the house, and when she would coo her cat, which she would always pick up and put onto her lap. 

He watched her do just that at the moment, getting up and bending over to pick up her oversized cat that required two hands, the sexy curve of her voluptuous ass cheeks on full display, and her long legs making him get more dirty images in his mind as he pictured them wrapped around his waist. With her seemingly five-foot height, he wondered how someone so short could have such long legs. 

He winced when he saw that the weight of the cat was hurting her as she struggled to put it on her lap, and he wanted nothing more than to go in there and help her. He was fooling himself. Really, he just wanted to pick her up and sit her on his lap and hold her forever. 

He only had a day or so here before they got their long break from the exhausting hundred and one day last leg of the U.S. Tour before it was time to go back to England, and he was determined to take her with him and make her his. He couldn’t just leave her there. She was too innocent and vulnerable to leave, and he knew that if he didn’t snatch her up soon, that someone else would because she was simply too beautiful inside and out to not be wanted. 

He had left the Hershey Park concert area in Pennsylvania as soon as he could and had flown to New York right after, heading to her house the moment he had gotten off the plane, which was only half an hour ago. Since it was a hot summer month, It wasn’t cold out, though even if it was, he would stay out all night. He would do it for her. 

He was itching to put his hands on her, but knew that he had to have everything planned out to the max so that it could all work out smoothly. He knew she would be scared, he just knew it. But she meant the world to him, and once he finally caught ahold of her, he was going to take amazing care of her.
Chapter 2 by PeachGirl
He didn’t like that she stayed up so late at night, and would make sure to have her in bed by ten every night if not sooner, but was always grateful for the opportunity to watch her be herself without having to worry about others spotting her. He could only hope that she would act the same carefree, comfortable way around him when he caught her.

He knew that her bedroom was on the first floor as he had seen her through her window a few times belting out to some song while she gracefully danced around. Her bedroom was small, but she seemed content in it, though she made sure her window was always locked every night before she went to bed, which thankfully was around this hour.

He watched as she finished her fourth sandwich that night, amused by her Niall-like appetite, and watched her leave the room as the large cat situated itself in her place. She came back a few moments later with her long hair flowing down her soldiers, and he gloried in her beauty as she spun around, swinging her hair back and forth every now and then and laughing at herself. He smiled at his princess, promising himself that he’d have her soon.

She came to where her cat was seated, and saw that she didn’t have the heart to push it off her chair, because next thing he knows, she is leaning against the table with her pajama-clad ass on full view of his gaze, and he had to turn away before he did something stupid like break down the window and take her right then and there.

He did his best to respect her, keeping his eyes on her mane of curly hair and scolding himself every time they averted to her bum. He didn’t even flinch when he caught two bright blue eyes staring back at him through the window suspiciously. They belonged to her almost monstrous excuse for a cat, and at that moment he thanked God sincerely that she had a cat that didn’t bark, and not a dog, for the girl would have been alarmed right then and there of his presence.

After a few minutes of her staring at her screen, she turned around and leaned her bum against the table as she faced the window, crossing her arms and looking down. He immediately grew concerned when he saw the heartbroken look on her face, her delicate hand wiping at her eyes. He knew she couldn’t see him, but he kept himself still for the sake of not alarming her cat further, which looked more than ready to pounce on the window by the way its short tail kept swaying rapidly back and forth.

She put a hand to her heart, which he could tell from his spot was hearting, and she leaned over as she heaved, crying to herself. He’d known she’d been a little sad tonight, but what had she read that had made her cry so suddenly? As his own heart filled with pain from watching her cry, he grew more and more determined to find out. 

She quickly turned her body and exited out of every website she had been looking at before shutting her computer down and leaning her face on the table. She left the room, and he was grateful that she had because next thing he knows, the large cat had made itself over to the window sill and lifted itself on its hind legs, setting its giant paws right against the window, gazing out right at him. He knew it could see him due to its natural see-in-the-dark abilities that every feline possessed, and he was extremely amused to see such an exotic animal so up close. He was tempted to put his hand against the glass and compare its size with the cat’s giant paw, but he didn’t want it to start clawing at the window and earn attention, so he backed away from it to the point where he could still see the girl making her way across the room towards the direction of her room.

This was his chance.

He quickly went around the house to where her bedroom was and he knew he got there first since she didn’t enter until a few moments later. She didn’t even turn on her light. Instead, she opened her window, and leaned right out of it, holding herself up by the sill with one hand, and clutching at her stomach with the other as she heaved, crying softly.

Harry was leaning right outside her window, staring right at her, and through all her sad glory, she didn’t even notice him standing there, looking about ready to pounce for her.

"My baby…" He couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from his lips as he stared at her short silhouette from his spot. The silhouette of the one girl who had seemed to capture his heart without even trying.

She immediately gasped, his sudden presence taking her by so much surprise, that if she’d been an elder with heart problems, she would have keeled over right then and there.

She froze, slowly backing away from the window but not before he grabbed her arm and crushed her face into his chest before she could let out any screams.

"Shhh…" He pulled her to him, and lifted her stiff yet shaking body out of the window and brought her fully against him, glorying in her soft presence-finally. "I’m not gonna hurt, you love," he made sure to tell her, hoping to calm her down a little though he knew it’d do nothing. "I promise," he almost pleaded with her, wanting so badly to comfort her now sobbing figure.

"S-stop…please…" she whispered, pushing as hard as she could at his chest but to no avail since his strength overpowered hers to the max, and that went without saying.

"Sweetheart, it’s okay…" He grabbed both her wrists in one hand and put a hand over her mouth in case she started screaming. "Listen to me, I am not here to hurt you. I just…" What the hell does he say? ‘I have been practically stalking you for three months and have decided to make my claim…? Yeah, that’s going to go through well. "I need you to come with me."

She started shaking her head, before she dropped down to her knees, trying to fight her hands from his grasp. She couldn’t see him well since it was so dark, but his tall silhouette was enough to scare her half to death.

"Please don’t…please don’t…" Her words were muffled by his hand, which was large enough to cover her entire face if he wanted to.

He crouched down in front of her and took her wrists in his hands and lowered them at her sides. He leaned in closer, which she cringed at, and he stopped just at her ear. 

"Don’t fight me, Love. You’re going to be safe with me. I’m going to take such good care of you, Isanne." She stopped when she heard her name tumble from his lips. "Give in to me, Princess," He whispered the last part, immediately making her go weak.
Chapter 3 by PeachGirl
"That’s a good girl," he cooed, upon noticing her body slump against him. He immediately put his hands oh the backs of her thighs and picked her up with him as he stood up, and held her against him, loving the moment more than life itself and knowing that all that traveling and waiting he did for those three months was well worth it.

He knew she was going to freak soon. Any person would. Her tantrum was on the way. But till then, he had to take advantage of this moment and of the fact that she was limp in his arms.

"Mmm…" He hummed in appreciated. "I’ve wanted nothing more for the past three months than to hold you like this…" He whispered, making her heart flutter, yet making her shake even more.

This was a nightmare for anyone-and it was happening to her just outside her bedroom window.

He hitched her up when she was about to fall, and held her tighter against him. Her legs weren’t encircled around his waist, but instead were hanging limply at his sides as he held her up by the backs of her upper thighs, dangerously close to her bum.

Not liking that he wasn’t hugging her with all he had, he put his arms around her bum area, which enabled him to hold her without actually violating her with his hands.

Yeah yeah, in a way he was violating her by kidnapping her, but he wasn’t up to violating her in ‘that’ way. He wanted her in his arms, but he didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted her to be more than willing when time came for him to take her innocence away-that was if some other asshole hadn’t taken it from her first. His fists clenched at the thought, his arms tightening subconsciously around her.

Upon her pained whimpers, he loosened his grip dramatically on her, hating that he hurt her for even a second.

"I’m sorry baby girl, I didn’t mean to hurt you," he murmured softly in her ear. Surprisingly, she relaxed against him.

Okay, why wasn’t she struggling? He can’t think of one girl who would let a random creeper snatch them out of their room and…well, try and take them without putting up a fight. Even diehard fans would struggle.

Now Harry wasn’t a creeper past Level 1-due to his sneaking around, but hoped for his sake that she didn’t put one up. However, he was a little alarmed that she hardly put up a struggle-for her sake. What if she had landed in the arms of someone with different intentions than his? What if some sick fuck had gotten his hands on her first?

He remembered that he was holding his girl in his arms and that he couldn’t afford to think like that because he might hurt her unintentionally.

He held her for a few moments more, swaying her from side to side, just waiting till she jumps out of his arms, lowers his chances of having children in the future with a knee to the groin, and screams bloody murder, but…nothing. She didn’t even try. The hell?

"Sweetheart…" He whispered in her ear, gently patting her thigh. No movement but the beating of her heart against his chest, and the slow heaving of her breathing. "Isanne…" He jostled her a little to see if she was just feigning sleep, but when he looked back at her face, he could see she was indeed sleeping, her eyes closed shut, and her entire life in the palm of his hands.

Okay well that was easy. 

He wanted to tuck her in, to kiss her goodnight, and to leave her to wake up in the morning, remembering this only as a dream.

But he couldn’t. He knew he’d regret it. He knew that if he left her here, and went back home without his princess in his arms…that he’d regret it. Halfway through the flight home, he’d look to the side of him, and see…nothing. When he went to sleep in his own bed, he’d see nothing, and when he woke up the next morning-if he was blessed enough to get any sleep at all-he’d still see nothing. Not to mention all his hard work and feelings would go to waste.

And when she stretched in his arms and put her arms around his neck, hugging herself closer to him, he had made his decision.

No way in hell was he walking away from her.

He took a few steps towards her windows, but stopped in his tracks when he saw two giant paws prop themselves up on the window sill, before he saw pointy, black-tufted ears and translucent blue eyes peering out at them through the dark of the night.

He doesn’t know how he could think it, but he prayed to God that this wasn’t one of those high I.Q. cats that could read minds or tell the future or whatever, because then he’d be screwed. He didn’t want it jumping at him, because it could hurt Isanne, and no matter how much of a cat person he was, he wouldn’t tolerate his girl getting hurt by one.

"Yo." Great conversation starter, Harry. The cat didn’t say anything, but rather took his paws off the sill, and he knew then that it was planning to jump over. Harry didn’t know whether the neighbours were fond of the cat or anything, but he figured they probably wouldn’t want such a wild-looking animal roaming their neighbourhood, and he was most definitely certain that Isanne wouldn’t want her ‘kitten’ missing. So, for the love of everyone, he had to try harder.

"Don’t even think about it, Bullseye," he said, randomly naming the animal. He wished he could take a picture of this thing. His family would surely not believe him when he recounted about the great big paws of the biggest house cat he’d ever laid eyes on-no one would. Was this thing even legal?

He put one long limb over the window sill, making the cat step back instinctively, and he slowly did the same with the other. Maybe if the cat saw him with its beloved owner, it would put some trust in him-or at least let him live long enough to escape with Isanne safe and sound asleep in his arms.

With her still in his arms, he turned around and quietly closed her window so that her pet or protector-whatever it was, wouldn’t get out, and so that no other intruders would think it is an open house and try and make themselves at home. 

He walked slowly in the darkness, afraid of what would be the outcome if he were to accidentally step on the cat’s paw-or boxing gloves, whatever the hell it had as its hands since they were so large. It would just be an accident, but the cat wouldn’t know that and would probably be out for revenge sooner than he could even try and apologize, not that it’d do anything. What, is the cat gonna out and say ‘No worries, mate.’ Please. 

He almost smiled at his thoughts but ceased all movement when he felt her moving in his arms, whimpering a little.

"Shhh…Baby, I’m right here." He patted her thigh gently, lulling her back to sleep before gently setting her on her bed. He hoped she wouldn’t wake up just yet. He didn’t know her sleeping abilities, like whether or not she’d be able to sleep through loud noise and such or if she could wake up at the slightest sound, so he made sure to keep extra quiet when stepping around her room and gathering some things for her.

He had mostly only known her whenever she was at the dining room table at night, or when he saw her wandering the streets when he’d been in the area-which had almost always been on purpose just to see her, so he wasn’t too sure of what was of sentimental value to her and what wasn’t. He figured the cat was, by the way she was always cooing at it and giving it kisses that even he wouldn’t dare to give it. But he couldn’t take a lynx on a plane, could he? Perhaps they were legal here, but would it be allowed back in England?

He sort of hoped so. Though the thing looked like it could kill you in your sleep, he would adopt the thing if he could and take it to his house if it meant making Isanne happy.

He gathered the basic toiletries for her- toothbrush, wide-tooth comb, her wash products, razors and such and gathered a few outfits for her and quickly got her some shoes, not knowing how the hell he was able to do this in an unfamiliar room in the dark in the middle of the night. This is where the phrase ‘Yeah, but I’m Harry Styles’ comes in…

He made sure to grab a few of her undergarments and such before stuffing them in the duffel bag he had found in her closet. He randomly picked through her drawers, letting his hands choose random little knick knacks that he thought were sentimental and stuffing them in the bag as well. He grabbed what seemed like a photo album or a scrapbook from under the bed and stuffed it in there, as well, and dug around with his flashlight real quick in search of her I.D., social security card and birth certificate and such. Found it.

Even though he had a few friends who could hook him up if needed, he was relieved to find that she had a valid passport, so that could save some of the hassle.

Wondering where the cat had prowled off to, he looked around him, and to his dismay he could see translucent blue eyes staring back at him right from where he’d left Isanne. Now, he didn’t judge. But he didn’t like the idea of this girl sleeping with a cat almost the size of her.

Flinging the bag over his shoulder, he stalked over to the bed and estimated how close the two were in the dark, knowing that he’d need to find some sort of distraction for the cat before it started hissing or roaring or whatever the heck it did. His crappy kidnapping skills weren’t exactly making him likeable.

He wanted so bad to capture the moment, certain that Isanne was lying against her cat, and resorted to taking out his iPhone and snapping a picture in the dark with flash, knowing he was most likely risking his life with the animal by doing this.

Although no picture was perfect, this one sure as heck seemed close. She was beautiful. Beautiful in her sleep, while her head was on the cat’s stomach, with her arms around it. The cat, however was gazing back at him in a cool-eyed glare, and Harry almost had to remind himself that he had balls so that he could pry her away from it safely.

He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that the animal intimidated him the slightest, but he knew he could deal with it. So long as he got Isanne, a few scratches on the hand wouldn’t hold him back from living life. Losing his hand, however, was a different story…so he’d have to tread lightly around this thing.

He stepped slightly closer, making sure to hold his hands up in surrender-as if the lynx had a gun-and he neared the girl.

She started moving, and Harry instinctively started shushing her gently, and though the cat had turned its head at her slight whimpers, it sharply turned its face towards Harry at the soothing sound of his shushes.

Harry stopped when he heard almost growl-like noises emitting from the lynx’s throat. It took him a moment to realize that the sounds were those of purring. The gigantor- pawed animal on the bed was purring at him. Now, wasn’t that something. Yeah, well…He’s Harry Styles.

Still making shushing noises, Harry walked closer until he finally reached the bed, and he gently held out a hand towards the cat so as to let it smell him. After a few moments, the cat began to lick him with what felt like sandpaper-aherm, mission accomplished- and Harry slowly backed away and began to reach for Isanne.

But the lynx wanted more attention and it immediately reached a giant paw towards Harry, beckoning him back, to which Harry returned before carefully placing a hand on the cat’s large head and giving him the massage of a lifetime that he wishes someone would be so kind to give him. If that’s what it took to finally get out of here, then so be it. He checked the time on his phone and saw that the current time here was now 12:15. So, he had a bit of time left, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t attempt to speed up the process.

Getting impatient, he boldly reached out for Isanne and placed his hands under her back and knees, lifting her up against his chest in bridal style. At the movement, she started making little noises again, similar to those of a kitten.

"Shhh…" He shushed, patting her thigh some more. "I’m taking you home, now, Princess…" She was oblivious to his words, but otherwise found his whispers relaxing as she soon nestled back into sleep against him.

He spotted something near her pillow, and grabbed whatever it was as well as the backpack that was hanging from her chair that she always seemed to have. He hoped she had her phone and charger in there, and if not, he’d buy her a new one. He was already planning on sending the girls on a trip with his credit card to buy Isanne anything she needed and wanted, anyway, so a quick stop to Apple wouldn’t do any harm. Or wherever she wants her phone from. He’ll get her anything. 

Perhaps he’ll just save the phone and any sort of internet access for when he trusts her, however. 

He did a Tsk-Tsk at the cat, signaling him to leave the room, and he quickly shut her door behind it so that it wouldn’t try and escape when he got out the window.

Before going to the window, he tried locating a coat for her for when she got to Enland, but when he couldn’t find one, he decided on just taking a soft blanket off her bed before heading out.

In a way, he was glad that he had long legs, which made it easier for him to get to the other side, but the fact that he was so big, and carrying everything he had along with the lady in his arms, he knew that would make it harder to get through.

But he knew he had to do it.

So he did.

It may have scraped his arm and such through his thin long-sleeve, but he did it.

And that’s all that mattered.

He got her settled in his rental car, and made a phone call to his pilot friend who controlled the private jet he’d rented during his stay here just to see Isanne, and had him prepare the plane for them so they could takeoff the moment they got there. He assured his friend that Isanne had all the necessary documents to leave the country with him, and that they were well on their way.

With that, Harry got in his car, and though he tried to convince himself not to, he couldn’t stop himself from putting an arm across the back of her seat and reaching over to take some stray tendrils off her face.

He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and trailed down her temple to her cheek until he reached her lips. He cupped her opposite cheek with a hand, and gently turned her face towards his. He saw her eyes flutter open as he placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips, marking the beginning of his true feelings for her.
Chapter 4 by PeachGirl
"Rise and shine, Kitten." Isanne immediately stiffened. Whoa. What a voice. Even with her cloudy mind, she knew that that wasn’t a voice she was used to hearing in the mornings. She had, however heard it in her dreams a couple times. Choosing to ignore it, she kept her eyes closed, and within seconds felt herself drifting off again.

"Aha, nice try. But not gonna happen. Wakey wakey," said the same voice. She opened her eyes and blinked a few times, gently rubbing them before she could finally see what the tall, dark looming figure above her was. At first, she thought it was a demon. What a scary thought. But now…

"You’ve slept for eight hours straight, Isanne. Any more, and you won’t be able to sleep well tonight."

"Ahh!" she yelped, jolting upright in bed and immediately backing away from-"H-Harry Styles?"

"Right you are, Love," he said, a slow smile forming at his lips upon hearing his name come from her lips. 

Now, he was never one to be awkward around girls, but somehow he found himself trembling inside in waiting for her first reaction to him. To the real him. He was sure that she was for the most part familiar with him and the lads, because come on, anyone who watches funny videos of them are bound to learn a whole lot more than what you actually hear on the news. But he didn’t know how she’d feel with him here…standing right in front of her. Would she freak out and fan-girl, or would she take him as just any other creepy stranger? Well, now. It was time to find out.

He watched her as she kept her gaze on him, her mouth opening wider with every blink. He had to bite back a smile, the look on her face was just so hilarious. He was tempted to snap a picture of her, but was sure that she wouldn’t appreciate that, especially not from a stranger, so he had to push that idea away.

Her eyes trailed down, and she surprised him by slowly reaching her hand out towards him. “May I…may I see your hand please?” He hadn’t noticed the slight accent in her soft voice, and almost closed his eyes at the sound. Okay, first thing’s first: Goodbye, Sophia Vergara. Hello, Isanne Flores.

He slowly brought his hand towards her, not wanting to startle her, and watched as she examined it, as though scared that it would reach out and choke her any minute or something. She touched it with one finger before quickly snatching her hand and backing away, making him raise his eyebrow. One would think that his touch had burned her or something, although the soft pad of her finger had felt lovely against the back of his hand, if he does say so himself.

He looked at her to see her smiling, and shaking her head before bursting out laughing. “It feels so real, too. I really do have the dirtiest dreams!” she laughed before turning over on her side and snuggling once more in the thick blankets.

'The hell was that?' Harry thought to himself, smirking.

"Erm…I’m not a dream."

"Hmm?" she murmured groggily.

Harry walked over to the other side of his large bed and leaning over her again. He gently pushed back a few wild curls off her face, making sure to have skin-to-skin contact with her cheek, before whispering, “I’m not a dream.”

She stretched a little before seeing that his hand was still on her cheek. It covered the whole left side of her face up past her forehead. Whoa. “What large hands you have, Grandma,” she said sleepily, before her head hit the pillow again. Only Mufasa would have hands that big, or almost. Well, paws, actually. Speaking of Mufasa…

"Mufasa?" she called out, beckoning her favorite substitute for a pillow to come to her like she did every morning that she found him gone. "Mufasa," she said in a sing-song voice.

'So that's what her lion-like pet's name was. Figures,' Harry thought to himself.

Harry was amused by her disbelief that this was indeed not a dream, and found himself full on smiling at her funny behavior. However, enough was enough. It really was time for her to notice him now and realize that this was indeed not a dream…but a dream come true. Well, at least he hoped that’s how she saw it as.

‘Your thinking is too wishful, Harry,’ he thought to himself. ‘Any girl in her right mind-fan or not-would freak upon waking up in a situation such as this-and not in a good way.’

"He’s not here, Sweetheart," Harry said, gently caressing her cheek with the soft pad of his thumb. "But Harry Styles is."

That’s when she finally snapped out of it and froze at the comforting feeling she felt on her face. She turned her face towards Harry, her eyes wide as she glanced at his hand on her face. She gasped before she quickly smacked it away from her as though it was a spider, and scrambled backwards on the bed towards the other side.

"What is this? Am I on T.V.?" she asked, looking around her, beginning to notice the nice furnishings in what was obviously a bedroom. A very large one. This was the kind of room they showed right on the telly, so her assumption couldn’t be too far off.

"Titi Betsy!" she exclaimed, looking around her, expecting her playful aunt to pop out of nowhere with a camera and yell ‘April Fool’s Day’ or something. But nothing. "Tio Chelo!" She yelled out for her favorite uncle who no matter what always made her laugh. "This isn’t funny…" she whined out the last part, getting more scared with every second they didn’t appear.

"It sort of is." She looked over at Harry, who had an extremely amused expression on his handsome face. "Why won’t you take my word for it, Love?" He leaned a little over the bed, holding his body up with his fists. "They’re not here. No one’s here…but you and me." He turned his head to look at her as he said those last words. It looked planned, like in the movies when they turn their head at the right moment to make it more suspenseful.

"But you’re Harry Styles. You’re from…England! What are you doing here in Ausable? Are you like on tour?" she asked genuinely curious. "If so, where am I? I mean, this isn’t my bedroom. And I’m pretty sure I didn’t fall asleep here last night." She was almost like a child, touching the bed around her as she spoke, her eyes wide and curious, yet her stance apprehensive as though she was ready to scramble off the bed if he made any sudden moves toward her.

"Long story short, Sweetheart. You’re in England now." He stood up to his full height and adjusted his snapback. It wasn’t until he put it back on after ruffling his hair that she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. 

"I-I beg your pardon?"

Even with her level of fear and confusion, she was still polite. It was one of the many things he adored about her.

"You have moved. From Ausable Forks-your home, to North London, England-my home. You’re not in America anymore, Sweetheart. You’re living with me, now. In the UK."

It took her a few moments to process this, and she had to force herself to find the words to speak. “Excuse me? What do you mean ‘I have moved’? she quoted. “And living with you?! Hold up-in the UK? And wait, did you just say my name earlier? How did you know my name?” Without even letting him answer, she sighed, looking for the next words. “Look, Mr. Styles, I really like you, you have amazing talent, and an amazing heart. You have come far from where you started a few years ago.” So she did know him. “But please…all jokes aside, may you please tell me where I am? And where my aunt and uncle are? Their names are Chelo and Betsy, I’m sure you may have seen them-“

"They’re in Ausable Forks." Harry put his hands in his pockets, preparing to stand there for a long, long time while she processed everything. He realized that she wasn’t the quickest when it came to conclusions and realizations. But he could deal with that.

"What?" she looked up at him. He made it sound as though they really were no longer in Ausable Forks. 

"Your aunt and uncle are in Ausable Forks. We left them in New York."

"Excuse me, ‘we’? And what do you mean ‘left them in New York, I am in New York…aren’t I?" she stood up from the bed and walked over to the clear glass window, which was pretty large, making up most of the wall. "Mr. Styles, where am I? Where is this?"

Isanne couldn’t hold back her amazement at the lush greens surrounding the place, which was on a high elevation overlooking many nice buildings and such. There was sunshine covering most of the land, making it seem brighter and bigger.

"You’re in England, Love. I thought we went over this." She wasn’t looking at him, as he was behind her on the other side of the room, but she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"But-England doesn’t have sun…right? I mean, at least that’s what I-"

"The sun is rare here, at times. But it still comes out."

She realized what was a dumb assumption that was on her part, and remembered that the matter at hand wasn’t whether or not the sun came out in England, but rather what the heck she was even doing here.

She turned to face Harry, and gasped loudly before jumping back when she realized he had been standing right behind her.

"Don’t scare me like that, please!" she held a hand to her heart. Yes, at heart she was a true chicken. But she had to stay strong and not let him see that. She thought she knew who Harry Styles was, but apparently not.

"I’m sorry." He sighed. "Look, why don’t you get dressed, come down to eat, and we can talk about this then?"

She was more than ready to protest, but from the corner of her eye she saw a familiar lilac-colored duffel bag, and immediately ran past Harry towards it, who would have stopped her had he not known what she had laid eyes on.

“My bag! What is this doing here?!” She opened it to find the things that Harry had picked out for her just hours before. “And what is all this?” she asked, motioning to the random outfits and things in her bag. “Why is there…” She turned around to face him. “Mr. Styles, what is going on here? Why do you have my bag here? Where all the rest of my things? Where am I, what’s going on? How did I even get here-“

“Hey hey hey,” he quickly stepped forward and grabbed ahold of her wrists before she could pull her hair out, which he was sure would happen from the way she was clutching at it. “Look at me.” She refused to look at him, not trusting the man before her who was loud on T.V., yet remained silent when she most needed him to talk. “Sweetheart-look at me,” he took both her wrists in one hand and took ahold of her chin, tipping it up to face him.

“Wait…” Realization dawned on her. “Wait, this! This happened before!” She said, referring to the way Harry was holding her. She struggled to get her chin out of his grasp, along with her wrists but he wouldn’t let her go. “You did this before! You…manhandled me like this-“

“Yes. I did,” Harry said in a slightly higher voice than she had. “Last night. I held you. For the first time. And holding you…” He trailed off and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “It was the best feeling in the world. The way you snuggled into me, as though I made you feel safe…” She felt herself get lost in his passionate gaze, the look of yearning in his eyes stopping time for her. “You have no idea how happy that made me. I mean, of course not. You don’t even know me-“

“But how did you-“

“I’ve been watching you, Isanne. For a while now. I’ve been observing the way you help anyone who needs help…the way you twist your hair around your fingers…and the way you seem so happy all the time.” He paused to see if she had anything to say, but continued when she stayed quiet. “The way you go to the children’s library more than you do the adult one and get a bunch of kid’s books and read them to yourself before lending them to the kids in the hospital since they can’t make it to the library. The way you treat your lynx like a kitten…” Her eyes were already tearing up at his words, but when he mentioned her beloved Mufasa, the tears just helped themselves, more joining the party. “Can’t you see? I like you, Isanne. Not just like…I care for you, Isanne,” he added when she was about to protest. 

His heart broke at the sight of her lip quivering. “But-but Harry…how do you know all that? And if you liked me…why couldn’t you have…talked to me first or something instead of…kidnapping me or whatever it is that you did to me?!” she cried, the tears now running down her cheeks. “And how did you find out about me, anyway? I’ve never even met you before. How can you…care for me? Oh my, this has to be a prank of some kind, I’m sorry, I just don’t believe it,” she said, looking away from him, shaking her head in disbelief while she sniffed, still crying. 

Harry knew that this would take time. He couldn’t imagine being taken from his home and brought to another country and forced to love someone and leave everything he had behind. But oddly enough, even though the thought hurt him, he didn’t feel an ounce of regret towards doing that to Isanne. The girl was meant to be his, and he knew it. He’d just have to make her see it. And he would, no matter how long it took, he’d make her see that she belongs with him. Ok, what is he, Taylor Swift?

Well, although the girl was his ex, her song sure did convey the feelings he currently felt for this one right here. Under her scrutinizing gaze, he felt not good enough, and it hurt him more than anything.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked her suddenly, making her slightly jump. Maybe she wasn’t scrutinizing him, perhaps she just couldn’t see all that well, and that’s why she was squinting so hard.

“I-s-sorry, I…can’t see too well. Sometimes. Other than that, I’m fine.” He let out a sigh of relief that it wasn’t because she hated him, although he wouldn’t be surprised if she did come to hate him soon.

And by her words, he could tell right off the bat that she didn’t want him knowing about her nearsightedness. ‘Well, too bad, Sweetheart,’ he thought to himself. ‘I already know, and set up an appointment for you next week to get your eyes checked. Aha.’ But he wouldn’t tell her that. Not till she was better situated.

She was annoyed. Angry was more like it. Why couldn’t he just answer the stupid questions? She wanted to push him with all her might and be the Mike Tyson and him the opposing punching bag. But…in her dreams. She knew she had to tread lightly. This was a male, a big one…and he could do anything to her. 

“I just…I wish you would answer my questions,” she said, looking up at him, the frown on her face making her look as cute as ever in his eyes. It took all he had not to just crush her in his arms right then and there and kiss her till she gave into him.

It was going to be hard to keep his hands off her, but he knew he had to restrain himself. For now, anyway.

He nodded, agreeing with her words. “You deserve an explanation. And you are gonna get it.” She immediately perked up. “When you come downstairs.” She slumped.

He released her, and backed away from her. “I don’t mind seeing you like this, but I’m sure you must. So you may want to put some clothes on.”

She looked down at herself and immediately gasped, before trying to cover up with her hands, pulling the shirt down further. “How dare you-“

“Don’t worry. You were covered with a blanket the entire time. Plus, it was nighttime. No one saw your legs.” ‘No one saw your precious, beautiful legs. Except for me,’ Harry thought.

She relaxed slightly at his assurance, but immediately perked back up again. “The entire time what? The entire time you kidnapped me? And what do you mean ‘it was nighttime’? Do you mean last night? What time is it now? I don’t even know what day it is…” she rambled on, bringing her hands to her hair and clutching at it again in confusion.

“You’ll get your answers when you come downstairs,” Harry said, walking to the door. “Washroom is that way.” He pointed to a closed door on the other side of the wall.

“But…but what if I want to take a shower? You don’t have cameras do you? I don’t trust you…”

He smirked, turning around. “If I wanted to see you naked, I would have done so already.” He had to stop himself from laughing when her expression grew horrified. “But I respect you too much. So relax. Now…go.” He flicked his head towards the bathroom and turned around to leave again.

But she had to challenge him.

“Why are you adamant on me taking a shower or whatever? Do I really smell that bad? Or have you got other plans? To try and join me, for instance. In other words, rape-“

“Isanne that’s enough!” He shouted at her. He took two long strides with his long legs and came to stand in front of her, to which she cowered back in fear. “Now, you listen to me.” He grabbed the nape of her neck with one hand and brought her forward, pointing a finger at her warningly. “Aside from taking you away from New York and bringing you here, I have done nothing to disrespect you in any way. Now, I know you’re scared. You have every right to be. But I’m going to tell you this one time, and one time only. I may be a bastard for doing that to you, but I’m not some sick bastard. I’m not going to rape you or force you to do sexual favors for me that you don’t want to do. I’m not that kind of guy. I want you to be comfortable here, and I know that me making sexual advances towards you won’t help that matter. So you can relax because you won’t have to worry about that.” For now, anyway.

“But how do you expect me to be comfortable here if I don’t even know where I am-if-if I don’t even know what I’m doing here…?” she cried.

“Well, that’s why I want you to get dressed and come downstairs,” he said, grabbing her duffel bag and gently pushing her towards the bathroom. “So you could find out, dummy,” he said affectionately.

When she turned around at the doorway of the bathroom, he held his hands up in surrender, backing up slowly. “There are no cameras, I promise. And I won’t disturb you from here on. Just come downstairs when you’re ready.” He turned around at the doorway. “But please…don’t keep me waiting too long.” He flashed her a breathtaking smile before disappearing out the door. 

She scoffed after his figure left the door, not believing for one second that this was all nothing but an act. The nerve of him. She felt bad that she didn’t introduce herself properly as she normally would, the guy really didn’t seem that bad, but if he didn’t have the decency to even answer one of the twenty questions she’d asked, him then she need not treat him decently and introduce herself.

'Don't stoop low, Isanne. You know better than that,' she thought to herself. Regardless of what people did to her, she was to treat everyone with respect and kindness. If God had turned against those who have done Him wrong and still do everyday, no one would even be alive right now, as all would be suffering elsewhere, so she had no right to treat Harry rudely.

Regardless of what he said, she didn’t know the full situation, so she’d have to know the whole situation first before coming to any conclusions and making any rash decisions. She’d find out soon enough.

And as stupid as it sounded, she wasn’t even sure if that guy was even the real Harry Styles. Sure, she knew for the most part how he looked and could recognize his voice anywhere, but what if this was all just an illusion? Dreams could seem realistic beyond words if they wanted to. Especially hers. She’d dreamt about Harry Styles on more than a few occasions, and they weren’t the ‘cleanest’ dreams either, if you will. So this could just be another one of those. At least she hoped. The one she had last night about Harry kissing her passionately in their wedding on the beach still had her wondering. 

She touched her lips, remembering the feel of his lips against hers. It felt so real, so soft. She never liked how flustered and sexually frustrated she would wake up after those dreams, knowing that it was wrong of her to feel that way, but she’d take that over this any day. She was feeling homesick already, and she’d only just woken up not ten minutes ago.

Opening the tall gray door, she stepped in but stopped before she could take another step. The room was beautiful, seeming more like a hotel suite than just a regular master bathroom. It was various shades of creamy beige with light brown accents, and it was enormously spacious with a breathtaking view. Literally breathtaking. She lost her breath and had to remember to breathe, it was so beautiful.

Just add a pillow, some food, and a blanket and she could live in here. She’d sleep right in the bathtub, no problem. She walked over to the large mirror, and saw that her hair was…just. There were no words. She was used to this, golden curls flying everywhere and such each night that she didn’t comb her hair through. She knew it would take a while to untangle her hair though, so instead of washing it again like she had done the day before, she just put it in a nice, curly bun, finger combing it the best she could, before turning on the shower. But not before she made sure the door was locked.

She wanted so badly to jump in that bathtub and stay in there forever, but as Harry said, ‘Don’t keep me waiting too long,’ she had no choice but to shower. Again, the nerve of him. Hello, she didn’t ask to be here. So however long she took, he’d have to wait, and that’s that.

She rummaged through her bag and saw that whoever that man was, he did have a pretty keen eye for fashion seeing as he had picked out a few nice outfits for her. She nodded in approval, her expression like that when you say ‘Hmm, not too shabby.’ She picked out her clothes, and her lightly scented strawberry natural body wash, and a razor before jumping in the shower. Although she was a little scared of someone seeing her naked or some random giant flying bird carrying a camera and crashing into the window much like the one in Nemo, she couldn’t deny that this was by far the most relaxing bathing experience she’d ever have. 

It was too bad this wasn’t all under different circumstances.
End Notes:
Harry’s master bathroom. 

Image and video hosting by TinyPic
Chapter 5 by PeachGirl
Author’s Notes:
Pictures are at the bottom! :)
Reluctantly stepping out of the luxurious excuse for a shower, she got dressed in a light pink jumper, some Galactic leggings, and light pink chucks. It was her dream outfit, all a light shade of pink with other light colors. She could wear this everyday. She brushed her teeth and cleaned her face before spraying a little bit of her vanilla bean mist and cleaning up after herself, and headed out the luxurious bathroom door.

She slowly brought the door to its hinges, closing it and quickly opening it again, taking a few more peeks while laughing before finally closing the door. Who would have thought that beyond that pale gray door was a beautiful, spa-like bathroom to die for?

She made sure to leave her duffle bag in the bathroom so she would have an excuse to go back there again before she left this place. What? It was dreamy. She’d much rather stay in there than have to go deal with Harry Styles’ doppleganger or whoever the heck that man really was.

She walked back in the bedroom, not bothering to look around as she made it to the large glass window from earlier. The view really was beautiful. If this was really England-which she highly doubted, he couldn’t have taken her that far-then the brochures were telling the truth when they described the exquisiteness of it.

She looked at the sky, silently praying to God that she could make her way home before her aunt and uncle got too worried, and turned around to head to the door. She didn’t notice the dark obstacle in the middle of the floor and tripped over it, landing face first on the bed-thankfully.

It was then that she felt something touching her hand and she quickly snatched it back, her eyes widening in fear before realizing that it was just a little box. A pretty, light blue box closed with a silver ribbon. She was never one to snoop, and immediately backed away from it before she caught sight of her name. She crawled onto the bed, making sure to keep her shoe-clad feet off it, and reached for the box. It had only her name in nice little letters on a small note attached to it.

She took off the ribbon gently, not wanting to break anything, and opened the box, gasping when she saw the beautiful pink wristwatch it held inside. She held the box away from her and closed her eyes, shaking her head a little to see if it was all just a dream, and gasped yet again when she saw the watch still there, looking pretty as ever.

He knew her better than she thought he knew, and she didn’t even know him. It was just her kind of watch, the sporty to-go kind that she loved to wear everyday. To her dismay, hers had gotten lost somewhere, and she took this new one as a blessing and thanked the good Lord before putting it on and examining, the smile never leaving her face. She couldn’t help but jump in glee. It wasn’t often she got new things, and this was just far beyond she expected to gain during her stay here, wherever this was.

This is one of those moments in a nightmare where you wish it wasn’t actually a dream so that you could actually keep the present. If only you could wake up and still keep the gift, right?


"Yes, Zayn, I know that now…No, tell Li and Paul that I’m okay." This was the third phone call he’d received by his frantic mates wanting to know where the heck he had gone off to. He didn’t tell them about Isanne-none of them knew about that-instead, he just told them that he’d forgotten the schedule and had left a day early-on his own rented private jet. He made sure to add the verbal shrug "oops," so that they would know that it isn’t such a big deal. Everyone always tended to make a bigger deal out of anything he did since he was the youngest, and frankly he found it quite annoying. He wasn’t a little boy who needed supervision, but rather a six-foot plus man who could do whatever the hell he wanted.

"Zayn, look, I’m home safe, I’m in my house, and I’ll be heading out soon to do some business, so you needn’t worry….No, I’m not stuck in New York in the woods." He laughed it his friend’s crazy assumptions. "No, I’m not being held hostage anywhere, I can assure you, you’d hear our codeword if I was, remember?" They had made up some secret codewords in case of any emergency, and they all knew to use them only when the time was right, and never while fooling around, so he wondered why Zayn wouldn’t believe him. "Look, just track my phone, alright? You’ll see where I am. And tell Paul I’ll call him later. I’m hanging up now. Byeeeee," he dragged out the word, knowing it would piss off his friend.

He looked at his watch, seeing that it had only been ten minutes since he’d left Isanne, and found himself getting impatient already. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms every minute of the day, and it pissed him off how needy he was when it came to her Like, what the hell? Today was the second time he’d spoken to her-really spoken to her, and he was already falling for her. How is this normal?

He thought back to when she had woken up, and how funny she acted. It had taken them eight hours to get here-just enough sleeping time for her, and he had just finished putting her in bed when he’d woken her up. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to get any rest, having been too skittish about leaving her unsupervised on the plane in case she woke up and caused any problems.

But that didn’t stop him from smiling like a lunatic when he’d held onto her all night, and upon seeing her in his bed this morning.


He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and trailed down her temple to her cheek until he reached her lips. He cupped her opposite cheek with a hand, and gently turned her face towards his. He saw her eyes flutter open as he placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips, marking the beginning of his true feelings for her.

He expected her to scream. Kick. Slap. Punch. Something. But never did he expect her to actually kiss back. He froze in shock as her eyes fluttered closed again, and she subconsciously moved her lips against his, most likely doing it in her dream.

He hoped it was him she was kissing in her dream, and not some other lad.

His heart beat furiously in his chest as he began to move his lips with hers. He felt as though the large butterfly on his stomach was flapping around as he felt a bunch of them fluttering about in his stomach. He felt so excited, as though he was being given his first kiss.

'It is your first kiss, Harry. Your first kiss with her,' his friendly conscience told him. That alone made him lose any memory of any other kiss he'd shared, this one multiplying itself over and over in the storage files of his brain.

He grew disappointed when he felt her moving around, beginning to wake up, but he realized it was just her getting turned on. He wanted to touch her. He really did. He wanted to lower her pants and stick his hand in her panties and slide his fingers inside her slick wet heat. He wanted to lift her shirt off her head and ravish her breasts, lay her down and take his clothes off before sliding his cock inside of her. He wanted to thrust into her and hear her moan his name-no, scream it, and shout in pure ecstasy. He wanted to make her cum over and over again on his dick, and have her hold on to him for dear life. He wanted to see her glowing right after, and have her to fall asleep in his arms, softly murmuring in his ear how much she loved him. He wanted her. He wanted her in every way.

But he couldn’t have her like that yet. To get her body, he had to have her heart first. And to have her heart…well he had to break through the walls of her mind. He knew she would know better and wouldn’t be easy to handle, most likely fighting him through everything and trying to find reason in his actions. 

Logic had a habit of getting in the way of things at times.

He gently tore his lips from hers and lulled her back to sleep before turning on the radio, the same song that she was listening to earlier starting to play.

I’m obsessive when just one thought of you comes up
And I’m aggressive just one thought of close enough
You got me stressing, incessantly pressing the issue
'Cause every moment gone you know I miss you
I’m the question and you’re of course the answer 

The song described his current feelings to a Tee. 

S.O.S. please someone help me.
It’s not healthy… for me to feel this way
Y.O.U. are making this hard, 
I can’t take it, see it don’t feel right 

See, that’s the thing. It did feel right. And although the girl did have him tossin’ and turnin’ to the point that he couldn’t sleep at night, he had never been so sure of someone in his life. 

This time please someone come and rescue me
'Cause you on my mind it's got me losing it
I’m lost, you got me lookin’ for the rest of me
Love is testing me but still I’m losing it

This girl was getting the best of him. That was for sure.

Just your presence and I second guess my sanity
Yes it’s a lesson, it’s unfair, you stole my vanity
My tummy’s up in knots so when I see you I get so hot
My common sense is out the door, can’t seem to find the lock

This was so true. His common sense was out the door. He was kidnapping someone. KIDNAPPING. And yet, it didn’t feel wrong. Not when it came to her.

'Oh, Rihanna. I hear you,' he thought to himself. 'I feel the same way.'

With one last glance at her house, he put the car in drive. Not once was he inclined to take her back to her bedroom and tuck her in her bed. He wanted her in his.


"Ready for take off, Harry?" The pilot, who was coincidentially also named Harry, asked him.

"Yes, Harry," he called back.

The pilot turned to head into the pit.

"And Captain?" he called out to his friend. Harry turned around to face Harry.

"Thank you."

His friend nodded, acknowledging his gratitude before turning around and heading into the cockpit. Harry was grateful and beyond that he would so this at such short notice and would make sure to put in a good word for his friend at the airport he works at. 

Harry knew this would be a long ride, but saw it as a short one since seven hours and forty minutes seemed hardly enough time to spend with his baby girl. Good thing he’d have her forever after this.

Although he had the necessary chloroform and sleeping pills at hand just in case, he refused to drug her. It wasn’t worth her having to empty the contents of her stomach first thing when she woke up due to the side effects of the drugs. Even if it was for his sake, he couldn’t possibly hurt his angel like that.

So he resorted to laying her against him, and lulling her to sleep every time she began to stir due to turbelence in the air. He sang quietly in her ear, and told her how he felt about her. To a random ear it would sound like wedding vows, which strangely he didn’t mind having his feelings be referred to as, no matter how much marriage scared him.

Harry, the pilot, knew not to utter a word about anybody’s private life, and thought nothing of seeing the way Harry smiled fondly as he treated the blanket-wrapped girl snuggled in his arms as a princess. Nothing except the fact that boy was whipped.

And as Harry, the superstar, thanked his friend profusely and wished him a good flight back as he got into the cab, he knew that although he couldn’t have Isanne in ‘that’ way yet, he realized that this was the first step to having her. The girl of his dreams.


In an attempt to settle his impatience, Harry walked over to the window and took a long look at the sky, thanking the good Lord for having let him have made it home successfully with Isanne, and praying that He wouldn’t take her away.

After what seemed like hours which was really only a few moments, he walked over to the stairs, debating whether to call her out, but deciding to just go check on her, not wanting to startle her by having to yell.


"I’m Isanne Flores. I can do anything," she said to herself, walking out of the bedroom and walking down the long hallway, looking for some sort of way to make it downatairs. Whoa, this place was big. But where were the stairs? Did it perhaps have an elevator instead of stairs and that’s why she couldn’t find any?

She was about to call out for Harry when she finally found them, a beautifully designed spiraling staircase leading to what she hoped was the first level of the building. Figures. The place was beautiful enough, and even though it shouldn’t have surprised her to see these steps, she couldn’t hold back how exquisite it all looked. Whoever owned this place had great taste and a keen eye for class, and must be loaded-whatever this place even was. She was still at her where-the heck-am-I Alice in Wonderland Stage. 

In a way, she hoped it wasn’t like that. She loved cookies, and if she found one like Alice had, she wouldn’t just take a bite, she would gobble it all up, and where would that leave her? With her head through the ceiling, that’s where. 

She walked over to the staircase and took a breath before making a go. She had always been a bit fearful when it came to any sort of steps, even those of escalators, but she found herself bounding quickly down these stairs, loving the challenge of it, but couldn’t hold back from falling forward when she spotted the same curly-haired Harry Styles identical twin guy from earlier.

Having been startled by his large, sudden presence, she tripped over her own feet and missed the last few steps, immediately flinching at what was to come, and closing her eyes. She landed on a hard surface, but not too hard, for the fall wasn’t that far. Wait, did the floor have arms? She opened one eye, and then the other to see that she had landed in the arms of the enemy-who, in this case, was the hero.

"You’re okay, Ssweetheart. I’ve got you," his deep husky voice said in her ear, strangely reassuring her to the point where she actually relaxed in his arms. Well, this seemed familiar. Really-had she met this guy before?

She pulled her face back to look at him, and found her nose almost touching his as he stared right back. She found her gaze trailing down to his uniquely-shaped lips and wondered how could someone look so much like the real Harry Styles, and when she started leaning in, she had to tear herself from his arms, wondering what was going through her clouded mind that caused her to do such a thing. First of, she knew nothing about this stranger, who strangely seemed to know quite a bit about her, so she couldn’t give him the satisfaction of kissing. That was a given no-no.

And second, the only boy she’d ever kissed was that creeper Tim Michael, who’d had his friends hold her arms while he laid a big wet one on her lips against her will, and would have gone further had her cat not escaped her uncle’s car and jumped on him, scaring him and his buds away immediately. So she really wasn’t experienced in that area. Or in any area for that matter. 

"Sorry-I’m sorry," she said breahtlessly, immediately tearing her eyes away from his seemingly disappointed green gaze.

'Oh n-no worries, Love,” he smiled apologetically, looking away as well, rubbing the back of his neck, looking much like Qin Lang in Corner With Love everytime he got flustered by Xin Lei.

Isanne immediately took notice of this and ogled at him as he kept his gaze away from her, seeming to momentarily forget what he was going even say in the first place.

He turned and caught her staring, her breath hitching, but if he noticed, he didn’t show it. “You wanted answers?” he said more as a statement than a question.

Gaining back her ability to understand English, she nodded, and followed him to the kitchen, which was just as spectacular as the rest of the place, what with its simple, yet airy design and large windows. Okay, this definitely had to be a house. But just to make sure…

"Is this your house? Like…is this a house?" she asked. He turned around and looked down at her, a smirk making its way to his lips.

"Yes, it’s a house. One would figure what with the bedroom, the bath, and the kitchen, but-" he didn’t get to finish before she swatted his chest, making him laugh.

"It’s beautiful," she told him genuinely, smiling politely up at him.

"You’re beautiful." The words slipped out of their own accord, but he didn’t regret them, the blush on her cheeks letting him know that his words affected her.

Her expression turned to one of shock before she composed herself. 

"I…th-thank you," she said, shyly smiling down at the ground.

'THAT'S WHAT MAKES YOU BEAUTIFUL!' His mind sang out to her.

"It’s true, love," he said instead. They walked further into the room, and she sat down in the sofa-like booth as he told her to, refusing any help from her as he brought a delicious-looking breakfast to her.

"You haven’t eaten yet?" she asked him as he sat down across from her along with his own plate.

"I wouldn’t start without you," he told her, making her smile and look away shyly.

"Thank you, that’s…that’s sweet," she said, a little flustered under his gaze even though she wasn’t looking at him. He noticed her say Grace silently for the food, and he did too out of respect, and she thanked him for the food before they dug in.

"This. Is. Muy delicioso!" she mimicked Dora the Explorer, making him smile. "This is really good. Do you have like a cook?"

"Yeah. His name is Harry Styles."

"Oh, well tell him that this is…" she trailed off, realizing he was teasing her. He was the cook. She scoffed before smiling, shaking her head at his teasing. "Well, I love French Toast. Though I wonder how you knew…?" she trailed off, staring at him with an eyebrow raised as she took another bite, loving the whipped cream on it with the fruit and such. It really was good. Okay, she didn’t mean to be dirty, but she LOVED whipped cream, especially with strawberries, and would always eat it straight out of the can back home when her family wasn’t looking. 

"I didn’t." By the look in his eyes, she saw that he genuinely didn’t know. "I just know that you love food."

"And how?"

"Oh wait, you don’t? Oh, sorry I just figured…’cause you’re human and all-"

He didn’t get to finish before Isanne reached over the table and swatted him again, making him laugh.

"You have such a high I.Q." She said sarcastically, referring to him getting smart with her.

"Thank you, Love. I get that alot." At her scoff, he just smirked and went back to eating.

"What a pair of balls…" she muttered to herself as she cut her food, mimicking the words that her aunt always said to her uncle whenever he got smart with her.

Harry chuckled at her words, never having heard such a phrase before, but knowing just what she meant. However, he seized the opportunity and decided to tease her further.

"I get told that too on the daily." He looked up and met her gaze, smirking. "I’ve got quite the pair-"

She reached over and swatted him again, both of them burtsing out laughing. The guy had a good sense of humour, she’ll give him that.

As she retreated her hand, he saw that she was wearing the watch he got her.

She caught his gaze and followed it to her wrist, and she touched a hand to her watch. “It’s beautiful…thank you.” She smiled up at him genuinely. “I love it.”

He seized yet another opportunity to say what crosses his mind everytime he looks at her. “You’re beautiful,” he said in a corrective voice, making her blush and look down again.

"Thank you," she said softly, glancing back up at him, the focused yet genuine look he was giving her making the butterflies escape their ribcage in her stomach and flutter about everywhere. She wasn’t used to this side of name-calling, and even when her aunt called her beautiful she would for the most part wave away the compliment and not truly believe her. But this…this was something different. Harry wasn’t her aunt. And though she would be leaving this place soon, she found herself hoping that he believed his own words. 

"Now, how about those answers…?" She looked at him, her face becoming one of curiosity and slight worry. "Please…?" she added, to be more polite. Hopefully he’d be more willing to tell her then.

"Answer One: You’re in England. North London, to be exact. Answer Two: This is your home now."

"But I have a home!" she blurted, getting nervous at his words, her heart beating furiously in her chest-but not in a good way. It beat in that ‘Oh-crap-now-is-my-turn-to-present-my-project-in-front-of-the-class’ mixed with an ‘Oh-crap-now-it’s-my-turn-to-perform-onstage’ kind of way.

Neither of those felt good in the beginning, did they.

"Then just think of this as…" He turned his gaze to her. "…Another home."

And though they usually tended to feel good afterwards, she wasn’t sure whether in this case either would feel good in the end.
End Notes:

This isn’t exactly her per se, but this is her outfit and how she had her hair:

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The spiraling staircase:
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His kitchen:
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Breakfast and a cuppa:> Image and video hosting by TinyPic 
Image and video hosting by TinyPic
Chapter 6 by PeachGirl
Author’s Notes:
I’m so sorry, I know I said I would update earlier, and I tried to but I really didn’t want to give a measly short chapter. I hope this is not too short. My second excuse is that I couldn’t feel any emotional connection. I know its still early, but I was hoping to make it different. Remember, this girl is optimistic, not pessimistic. I hope this story is okay so far. I will try to update REAL SOON so I don’t keep anyone waiting.
She stared at him with a blank face, her eyebrow slowly raising of its own accord.

Did he just say what she thinks he said?

"That’s cute, Mr…Styles, we’ll say," she smiled sweetly, taking another bite of her food. She wasn’t sure whether that was his name or not-still, which was stupid at this point seeing as he’d already confirmed it, but she was getting nervous already, and if she wasn’t so in love with the food he made, she would have scrambled and made her first attempt to escape from this beautiful dungeon.

"Well sometimes the truth is ugly, sometimes it’s cute…" he shrugged, his voice light, but his face serious.

Yeah. He said what she thinks he said.

She forced a laugh, and made an attempt to swallow the bite she had in her mouth. Whenever it was hard for her to swallow, that’s when you knew something was wrong, because Isanne had a knack for gobbling her food up, and she hardly ever took a break from eating. But now…it was getting harder and harder to eat. Harry Styles or not, she didn’t know this guy. She didn’t know what he was playing at, and what he expected to gain out this. The expression on his face didn’t change when she asked him this.

"You." He answered, looking her as though trying to convey a message, or better yet, a feeling of some kind. "I expect you out of this…I hope to gain…you."

She forced another light laugh. “No, seriously-“

"I am serious, Isanne." He looked away and stopped to think for a minute. "Bear," he said, turning back to look at her.

"Huh?" she asked softly.

"Bear. I think I’ll call you Bear. You seem to like those very much." He recalled all those times she Googled those baby bear pictures, most of them polar bears, and the way she would always clap her hands and hold them to her heart in awe when she saw them. The memories made him smile.

"Uh h-how do you know that?" She tried to keep her voice light as she picked at her food. It was getting really really hard to swallow. But she forced it down with tea.

"As I told you earlier…Bear. I’ve been watching you. For a little while now-"

"H-how long?" The expression on his face still remained the same. Was he perhaps an actor?

"A little over three months."

Her jaw tried its hardest to drop to the ground, but she held it steady, clenching her teeth instead. This came as a shock to her.

"Are you serious?" she asked breathlessly. He took notice of the fork starting to shake in her now trembling hand.

He gently took it from her along with her knife-which she never used since she usually just cut things with her fork-and he set them down on his plate. He then grabbed her trembling hands and steadied them.

"Don’t look so concerned, Love. There was a reason behind my actions."

She stopped to think at this. And then she surprised him with a smile. “So I AM on T.V.!” She really didn’t want to be, but being on the telly was better than being…well, kidnapped. “What is this, Punk’d?” She started looking around her, a giggle escaping her lips. “Am I on Punk’d? Where’s Ashton?” She turned back to look at him, before turning her head again to look around. “Mr. Kutcher! You can come out now!” She really was relieved. Harry’s intensity…scared her for a minute. The expression on Harry’s face was that of a really amused person, but the longer she stared at him the longer she noticed it fading…going back to the serious expression he’d held earlier. She giggled a little, her nerves suddenly reappearing. “Mr…Kutcher?” she asked again, her smile slowly fading in tune with his as he got completely serious. “Anybody?” She called over her shoulder weakly before shrinking in her seat. 

"Oh." She finally realized.

That did it for her when he tightened his hold on her hands. But she remained calm. Perhaps this was all a game. Perhaps it was all just part of the act. You can’t come to conclusions too fast nowadays. They tricked you on everything.

She tore her gaze from his, averting her eyes down to their hands. His hands were beautiful. And large. Large enough to wrap around her neck-

"Look at me." His husky voice startled her, making her jerk in her seat, and she had to bite back the urge to let out a little yelp. That’s what happened when you became too serious with Isanne. She got scared of you. Right off the bat. But she wouldn’t let him know this. She was going to act like Arnold Schwarzenegger, and get to the bottom of this. "Sweetheart, look at me."

Once again, he took both her wrists in one hand and turned her chin to look at him. She immediately recognized the gesture. “You-you did this before-“

"Yes. I did." He inched his face a little closer. "What do you remember from last night, Love?"

She stopped to think for a moment before remembering the tall, dark scary figure that had grabbed her in the middle of the night. She gasped at the memory, remembering just how scary it had been to open the window to cry a little and suddenly be grabbed by monstrous clamps which she now figured out were…his hands.

Her eyes widened as she looked down at his hands and immediately jerked herself away from them, swatting them away from her. She leaned away from him, shrinking into her seat as realization quickly dawned on her.

"It was you," she said breathlessly, putting a hand over her mouth in shock and pointing at him. "You’re the creeper that took me from my window yesterday…" Her finger shook as she pointed at him. She lowered her hand from her mouth and hugged herself. "Who are you? What did you do to me?!" She examined herself, feeling around to see if anything was hurting.

'Nothing…yet…' he thought to himself.

His heart hurt watching her be like this. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him.

"Look, I’m not a creeper-"

"Yes! You are! Fun fact!" she said sarcastically.

"Sweetheart, look-"

"Where am I?!"


"Answer my questions…please," she pleaded.



"You’re in England!" He yelled, startling her. He stood up from his seat and leaned over the table. "How many fucking times do I have to tell you?" She instinctively shrunk even further into her seat at the tone of his voice. You mix a deep voice with a harsh tone and loud volume and you get the booming High Definition quality of 2013 edition dynamic loudspeakers that will cause a vibrating sensation throughout the room and will have you trembling in your seat.

Harry Styles’ voice, ladies and gentlemen.

"Huh?! How many fucking times do I have to repeat that you’re in England?! Look outside, Sweetheart! There’s no sign of Ausable Forks here," he laughed sarcastically, the bitterness of it making her shrink even further into her seat-if that was even possible. "Alright, look. I took you last night. I took you from your home at around twelve, in other words-"

"You kidnapped me!"

"No, in other words I was claiming what’s rightfully mine."

He didn’t get to finish saying anything before she threw her head back and let out a loud laugh.

"The hell you cackling for, this isn’t a joke, Princess."

"Oh." She threw her head back and laughed some more, really thinking he was playing about ‘claiming her as his’ or whatever the heck he’d said. Then she realized what he said about her laugh. "I didn’t cackle!" she said in the same way Savan Kotecha said ‘I didn’t hesitate!’ in a Quickfire episode. 

"Newsflash, you did. Although I’m glad you find this all amusing." She looked up to see a smug smirk on his face.

"Oh. You were serious?" she asked genuinely.

"About claiming what’s rightfully mine?"

She nodded.

"I meant every word." His expression was back to serious once again.

She sighed, standing up from her seat and getting ready to ‘let him down easily’, not wanting to break his heart or anything. The guy was obviously…confused. 

"Look, Sir-Harry, right? You are the real Harry Styles, right?

"Aren’t my tattoos proof enough? Or…well, me?"

"Sorry, I don’t know what all your tattoos look like. I don’t look up celebrity information online, as I would rather hear the truth from the celebrities themselves-"


"Anyway, first thing’s first. I want to thank you for the meal, it was delicious if I do say so myself-"


"Second, I want to thank you for letting me use your shower. You have a very lovely home and an even lovelier bathroom-"


"And third, I want to thank you for your kind "offer" about wanting to kidnapping me, it’s not every day a celebrity makes such a nice proposal-"

"Isanne, could you just-"

"However, I am going to have to politely refuse your offer, for I already have a home and know nothing about you. That being said, thank you, and I’ll be departing now-"


"I’m sorry, did you say something?"

She was already halfway to the sink, having cleared the dishes from the table, and was ready to wash them. She flinched when she saw Harry marching over to her-the guy was tall. Yeap, he was really tall. He took the dishes from her and set them in the sink before marching right back up to her in less than a stride.

"Look, you midget-"

"Ahem, 5"2 and three-fourths of an inch, thank you very much-"

"I don’t give a fuck. Now I want you to listen to me, and I want you to listen to me real good. Because I’m only going to say this one more fucking time." He grabbed her upper arms, and the hard look on his face told her that he meant ultimate business. She didn’t realize she was making him angrier with every bit of sass she showed. 

She snorted.


Her snort turned into a giggle.

"What the fuck’s so funny?"

Her giggle turned into a whole laugh.

"ISANNE!" He roared in her face, ceasing her laughter immediately. "I asked, what the fuck’s so funny?"

"It’s just…why aren’t I intimidated by you right now?"

"Excuse me?"

"You’re not…scary." Even she couldn’t believe that, but she had to act unfazed, for her sake. Maybe he’d back off if he saw that his actions were proving nothing. "I mean like, you’re trying to scare me, aren’t you? Well, you aren’t. You’re about as scary as a Teletubbie. No offense." 

Now, Isanne was terrified of Teletubbies. She’d had a bad experience with three out of four of them when she was younger, and she’d been scarred ever since then. So, in other words, Harry was terrifying the living life out of her. This was her way of indirectly telling him that. But he didn’t need to know that. 

He let out a low, bitter chuckle and stared at her for the longest time. The girl was pissing him off and driving him mad, and he wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to control himself much longer. “Isanne-“

"Harry." She said.


"Harry." She smiled innocently.

Let’s try this again. 



"Damn it, this isn’t a back and forth game!" He yelled, squeezing her arms harder than before and making her flinch in fear, and wince in pain.

'Stay strong, Isanne,' she told herself. 'You're going to get out of here. This is obviously some stupid joke that Tio Chelo and Titi Betsy decided on ganging up for to play of you.'

"Okay, okay please will you calm down-"


"I KILL you!" she finished his sentence in the ventriloquist’s voice for the skeleton puppet. "Harry, you’ve watched Achmed too? I didn’t know-"


A large hand connected with her cheek, and she felt the blow a moment after she heard it, tears immediately forming in her eyes at the harsh blow. 

"Just. Fucking. Listen. To. Me," he said slowly, closing his eyes in an attempt to calm himself before opening them again and glaring down at her. He hated hurting her, even the thought of it. But sometimes his anger overruled his senses. "You’re mine, Isanne. Mine to keep. For as long as deem necessary-"

"And how about when you’re d-done with m-me?" she stuttered, trying hard to hold in the tears that had formed in her eyes. That slap had really hurt, but she would not give this madman the satisfaction of seeing her cry. 

"Isanne, you don’t fucking interrupt me when I’m talking," he said more gently, albeit still pissed off. "You’ve done that enough today, and I’m fucking sick of it." 

She just nodded slowly, deciding to keep quiet now, and pay attention to him to see what was it he really wanted. Surely, her aunt and uncle wouldn’t have played any part in getting her hurt, so she was really starting to doubt her theory about this being a prank of some sort. 

"Now. As I was saying before you started acting like a fucking clown-"

She snorted, but stopped when he glared at her. 

"You are mine. As in you’re staying in this house-" he motioned around the house "-right here with me. You will abide by my rules and be respectful to those around you, especially to me, mind you. You break a rule, you will be punished. You disrespect me, and you will be punished. And if I find out that you are trying to leave this place without my permission, you will be punished." She cringed every time she heard the potentially fatal ‘P’ word. "Do I make myself clear?" 

Erm, no. 

"Isanne Flores I asked you a question, and I expect you to answer it." 

She nodded hesitantly. 

"What was that?" he asked, clearly not liking her inaudible answer. 

"Y-yes, Master," she said, trying to show confidence in her sarcastic words but failing. 

"Don’t call me that," he said curtly. He let go of her arms, and put his hands in his pockets, leaving his thumbs out hanging. How his large hands actually fit in the pockets of those skinnies, she’ll have to Google it or something, for that was quite a mystery. "I want you to be comfortable here and as happy as can be, but there is only a certain amount of sarcasm I’ll tolerate before you’re crossing the line."

"Then what is it I may call you?" she asked sweetly, trying to keep the anger and sarcasm out of her voice. 

"Harry, obviously. Or…Daddy," he smirked. 

This time she did cackle. “Get over yourself, chimp.” 

"Isanne…" he warned. She looked away, not wanting to do anything that would anger him further. "Now, for the rules. Simple. You don’t curse. You don’t hit. You answer me when I talk to you. You look at me when I talk to you-" he moved her chin to face him. "You watch your attitude. And you don’t raise your voice at me. Ever. Is that clear?" 

"It’s as clear as your…" He looked at her warningly. "…eye color…" she said, looking down, suddenly not feeling very cheerful and prankster like before. 

"Good. Now what do you have to say for yourself?" 

"Is it…time to go home yet?" she asked, looking around, not wanting to meet his darkened eyes. They were no longer clear, that’s for sure. 


"Oh. Right. Well, I’ll just…go get my bags then!" she yelled as she started running for the door, not caring what happened to her bags. She noticed Harry about one step behind her as she ran, and decided to make it look like she was kidding so that she wouldn’t get in trouble. What good would it do to make a run for it and get caught seconds later? She turned around and immediately put her hands up in surrender. "I joke, I joke!" He stopped right in front of her, looking about as pissed as a happy bulldog. They always looked pissed. "Why you not know joke when you hear joke? What, you want to make fight at wedding?" She mimicked Mr. Wong from Norbit instinctively as she always did when she was about to get in trouble for saying or doing something that was not funny. To the other party, anyway. To her it was always funny. 

Harry wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t the least bit fooled. But he decided to go easy on her. He’d already let his anger speak and do for him today, and he refused to let it take control again. He hated hurting her. He didn’t even like shouting at her. But when the time came for it to be needed, he would do what he had to do to ensure that his baby girl followed his rules. 

He crossed his arms and looked down at her. “You’re a real joker, aren’t you?” He didn’t ask it. He said it. 

"But you said I was a Princess." She folded her hands in front of her and batted her eyelashes. 

"Damn it, Isanne…" he looked away from her, trying to stay strong. How could he be mad at her when she batted her fucking eyelashes? "You’re not just a Princess," he told her, still refusing to look at her. "You’re my Princess." Now he looked at her. "But what I say goes. Now, I want you to take your shoes off and put them in the foyer closet, because I don’t allow them in the house. And then I want you to come with me." 

"Wh-where may we be going?" she asked shakily as she brought a foot up to untie her converse. This blows. Now she’d have to add on ‘Putting shoes back on’ to her escape plan. 

He saw her struggling to keep balance, and bent down to untie them for her as she steadied herself by holding onto his shoulders. 

"To give you a tour of your new home, of course."
Chapter 7 by PeachGirl
Author’s Notes:
I tried and just finished this! It may not be…well, I don’t know, really. Every chapter gets harder to write because Isanne just cracks me up and I’m trying to maintain her unique personality, but I didn’t want to give you something short so I am really sorry again I didn’t post earlier. I hope you enjoy it and happy reading, everyone! Oh, and there are quite a few references in here that are made to like movies in things just saying. Maybe you like one of those movies or something? Excuse my conversational skills just trying to communicate with everyone and get along :)
"And this must be the guest room!" she chirped, pretending to have a look at the last, large room in the house he was showing her, not having paid any attention to anything he’d said because she was too busy creating a plan to escape this boy’s radar, and leave this beautiful mansion of a home.

And mayyybeee she had spent a little extra time staring at the way his defined jaw line moved almost in sync with the those heart-coloured, heart-shaped, lips of his-

"No. It’s the living room. Dum Dum." He wanted to laugh because there were no beds in sight but rather sofas. But he knew she just wasn’t paying attention. She had kept her eyes on him most of the time, and it had taken him all he had to keep himself from throwing her on one of the beds and making endless love to her right then and there. The tight leggings she wore weren’t making things easy for him. 

"Cool, I say dumdum too!" she said instinctively when she heard him say her most-used word back home. "Wait, who are you calling a dumdum, you acking fusshole!" she shouted at him before bursting out laughing.

"Keep going, Isanne," Harry urged her on warningly while nodding with a smirk. "The more you disrespect me, the more I’m going to enjoy punishing you."

That stopped her in her tracks. She turned to face him full on and put a hand on her hip, raising her chin confidently and changing the tone of her voice from comical to sassy, as though she actually knew what she was doing. She didn’t. And she definitely didn’t know how he would react, but defending herself was worth a try.

The look of amusement on Harry’s face gave her a surge of confidence. He had that ‘Dare to go on..’ look.

"Look here Mr. Styles," she sassed, waving her pointer finger accusingly in the air at him. "I don’t know what sick game you’re playing at, but your threats mean nothing to me. Sure, you hit me. But don’t think you’re getting away with it. You’re lucky I didn’t just hit you right back, you abusive, Rihanna-beating Chris Brown wannabe!"

That got his eyes darkening with anger.

Now, she loved Chris Brown and his singing and dancing skills and such and had nothing against him even after the incident. But anything to get her point across, right? The point being that Harry didn’t own her and that he couldn’t control whatever actions she chose to do.

With that, she huffed like a Mean Girl and flipped her hair dissingly before turning on her heel to make her way upstairs to get her things, and hopefully make it out of here on time for dinner tonight. She didn’t think of this as anything but a joke. A cute, but annoying one. Wasn’t getting a bruise on your face going a little too far with this no-goodnik scheme?

Trying not to run so as to show him she didn’t fear him, she kept walking confidently towards wherever those enchanting stairs may be, and sensed quite the anger behind her, but smiled to herself in attempts to show herself that she had the upper hand here, and not that wannabe One Direction member.

But she knew it was all false hope when she felt herself being slammed into a wall beside her. Because Harry Styles or not, he was a man, and she was a girl.

And men always had the upper hand physically when it came to fighting a girl who had no fighting skills whatsoever other than those she’d learned from watching Furious Five and Karate Kid.

'Okay, Isanne, Wax On, Wax Off,' she thought to herself in hopes of…well, defeating him. 

As he trapped her in, with his arms on either side of her and his hands on the wall, she attempted to push him by rubbing all over his chest in circular motions as though she was Ralph Macchio waxing the car, in hopes of tickling him enough to weaken him.

He didn’t even flinch, so…FAIL.

Next! ‘Okay, Isanne, Jacket On, Jacket Off.’

She attempted to raise his shirt up to hopefully put it over his head, but couldn’t reach that high and almost ended up kissing him when she fell forward on her tippy-toes. Next, she tried reaching around his pants to pull up his boxers and hopefully give him a killer wedgie, but he had a belt protecting what were probably tidy whiteys anyway. Even better. Too bad she couldn’t get to them. 



"Isanne, may I ask what the hell are you doing?" Oh, he was pissed alright. But he was more amused than anything.

"Defending myself!" she shot back.

"If I’m correct, you were trying to…fondle me?" He smirked, his eyes darkening, but not just in anger.

She tried to knee him in the groin, but he caught her leg just in time and forced it down and pushed his hips against hers so that she couldn’t move.

"Hate to break it to you Rafiki, but I know better than to inappropriately touch animals, you red a-" he covered her mouth, the only audible thing coming out from her lips being "baboon!"

"I’ve had enough of your smart mouth, Isanne, and all your little bouts of sass will not go unpunished. Now, you listen to me, Sweetheart…" he leaned in closer to her so their noses were almost touching, but far enough so that it didn’t look like either had abnormal eyes. His tone got drastically darker. "You are never to disrespect me like that again, do I make myself clear?"

She moved her face around to pull her mouth from his hand.

"So you want me to be the subservient Cinderella who immediately responds to your every beck and call while you’re the evil stepmother who will punish me for forming my own opinion?! That’s a little abusive of power, don’t you think?!"

"You are entitled to your own opinion, but you don’t get a free pass when you’ve crossed the line, Kitten." He turned her around to face the wall, and if she wasn’t so aware of his unfamiliar masculine presence, she would have heard the jingling of his belt being unbuckled.

He gently pushed her up against the wall, and her breath caught in her throat when she felt her leggings being pulled down along with her panties. She felt him lean closer into her, pressing against her back, blocking any possible escape on her part.

"Would a stepmother do this to you?" He asked lowly in her ear, sliding his hand in between her legs and reaching her wetness in between her folds, gently massaging her nub with his finger. She had to force herself to breathe. The feeling was so foreign, yet it felt amazing. But she did her best to hold back any moans threatening to escape so as not give him any satisfaction. 

"Th-the rapist kind would!" she shot back. As much as she despised the urge, she wanted nothing more than to let him take her, but knew this was wrong. She felt violated. He wasn’t even her boyfriend, much less her husband!

"Then it’s a good thing I’m your man and not your mother…" He murmured. She was about to respond with a smart comeback but lost all train of thought when she felt his fingers glide along her cream-filled slit. He groaned in pleasure. "Mmm, you’re so wet for me, baby girl…if you weren’t so innocent, I’d fuck you right here up against this wall," he growled, making her swallow harshly.

She wanted to elbow him in the stomach and push him away and hopefully land a punch or two on that pretty jaw of his. But instead, she felt herself growing weak at his soft touch, and lifting her leg a little to give him better access.

"My baby girl likes that, huh?" he growled lowly in her ear. ‘She likes me touching her…" He massaged her clit a little more firmly, running his fingers over and over her slit, just slightly dipping one in mockingly, soliciting needy, hopeful moans out of her. "I would finger-fuck you, Princess…" He removed his fingers from her painfully slow. "But my thick…" she held her breath "…long cock is going to be the first thing I slide inside you," his husky voice rasped in her ear. She couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped her lips upon hearing his dark words.

Her lips were right by his ear, and he loved the sound of her moans.

"Having said that…you’re going to have to wait for your release till then…" She didn’t know what that meant, but when he brought his fingers to his lips and began tasting her and telling her how sweet she was, she realized that it was the painfully amazing sensation of her arousal begging to be fed and freed.

"Now, don’t think punishment’s over." Punishment? How is having a hot guy give you delicious sensations punishment? Well, it was violation of her private parts, which counted as sexual assault, so…

It was then that she heard something slice thickly through the air before landing on her backside with much painful force, making her cry out. She instantly recognized the material as leather. Now, leather is cool. But not when it is in the hands of the enemy. 

THWACK! The force immediately had her face planted into the wall, making her need to use her hands to hold herself and prevent from making a dent in the wall and from injuring herself further.

"For swearing at me-" she felt his lips say in her ear.

"I didn’t-" she began to protest, but he cut her off.

"For attempting to swear at me," he corrected.



"For calling me names."





'OWWW!' was the only thing running through her mind other than the words 'you animal!' Tears burned her eyes as she winced in pain with every hit. She wanted to run in the corner and cry like a baby, it hurt so bad. When he said 'punish,' he wasn't kidding. 

"For your tone of voice."




She wanted nothing more than to let one rip like Niall and have Harry running away in search of fresh, untainted air. Maybe he’d set her free then. She could just hear him saying, “No, I refuse to keep a girl who shits herself.”

Niall wasn’t the only one with a reputation for cutting the cheese. Come on, we’re all human!

She found herself almost laughing at the thought, but blows on her behind stopped her. If only she could blow FROM her behind, right? Too bad she had no gas to pass. That was her last resort at defending herself in this arrest-me position. Crap.

"For threatening me." He continued.




"And last but not least, for disrespecting me, attempting to hit me in the groin, and attempting to run," he listed nonchalantly. That caveman.

As opposed to what he’d thought earlier about going easy on her, he decided not to let that last one go after all.

"You little-" she started, but got cut off by-




"What was that, Love? Did you say something? Perhaps that deserves a little punishment too?" She could hear the smirk in his voice and this may be a very unholy thing to think, but she wanted nothing more than to rip out all his curly hair and shove it in his mouth and give this pussycat lover a hairball. 

Her butt was searing. The guy hit hard.

What, was he playing baseball with the belt with her butt as the ball?

"OWW!" she complained, letting out her number one thought since he started hitting her. "WHY YOU HIT ME SO MANY TIMES?!" she barked at him, sounding much like an anime when they’re calm one second and freak out the next.

"Don’t raise your voice at me, Sweetheart, or I’ll get you for that too." He patted her behind gently in warning, but it felt like he was trying to bounce and dribble it like a basketball since even the slightest touch made her burning bum feel on fire.

'You already did, you Nimrod!' she yelled at him in her mind. He couldn't very well punish her thoughts because he couldn't hear them, so HA!

"Fifteen’s your lucky number, right?" Wait. How did he know that? "Well, although you deserved at the very least nine more hits than what I gave you, I did a number down on your punishment to go easy on you, and to not surpass your favorite number." Aww. How sweet. That caveman. No, wait. That’s an insult to cavemen. 

Did he say he ‘did a number down on’? ‘You did a number on me, that’s for sure!’ she thought.

"You’re lucky it wasn’t twenty." She could hear the smirk in his voice, and the serious undertones as well. She winced when he pulled her clothing material back up.

"There you go," he said gently, gently pulling the material back over her sore bum. It was much contrast to his earlier dangerous tone and harsh actions. "Your ass looks like strawberries…weren’t you gobbling those up earlier?" He teased, sounding like Alan Carr whenever he made fun of someone. 

'Oh, let ,me at him!' she thought to herself. 

"Did you say you went easy on me? Was that a…joke?" she asked, still with her front to the wall.

He put his arms on either side of her, trapping her against the wall, but being careful not to lean into her sore backside. Despite her urge to dropkick him, she found the position somewhat…intriguing. Only for a moment, though. She was more than ready to follow through with her plans of beating the guy to a pulp and making him choke on his own hair.

"Don’t get smart with me, Love," he said into her ear, his closeness and husky voice making her shudder. Which he noticed and liked. "I don’t like having to punish you, however…I didn’t hear too many complaints out of you, and…I’m sure you’re not completely opposed to the idea of getting punished again…"

That did it. She pushed herself from the wall, knocking her backside roughly into him, and though the hard-on that had formed in his pants had hurt her behind from the impact like another spank, she was grateful for the distance put between them, even if it was just half a foot. What surprised her is that he didn’t even stumble even though she pushed him unexpectedly. She had used all her force, too. Either he was strong, or she was just a bit weak. Not part of her escape plan, being weak. Not a good strategy either, unless playing the victim would work for Harry. Waterworks were the perfect defense mechanism against someone who “cared” for her, right? She’d have to try it out later. For now, however…

"Of course it hurt, you big d…" she rapidly ceased her quickfire name-calling plan when he gave her that look again. "I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I hope you don’t expect me to go, ‘Oww, it hurts so good!’ like Harry in Dumb and Dumberer, right?! I’m no masochist!" 

He just smiled at her, shaking his head in amusement. She amused him in many more ways every minute that he spent with her. He’d always seen her as the quiet and reserved type around people, but…it looks like he brought out something different in her. A side of her that people never saw. Maybe that’s just what she needed. A rock to ignite those sparks, and bring out the fire in her. He could be that rock…He could be her rock. 

Isanne watched him smile. It was cute. His dimples were adorable, making him look like eighteen years younger again, like a one year old baby. The guy had ‘cuteness’ as a defense mechanism. And she was sure he had used it over the span of his lifetime, and that it had worked. Now, her…she had to find her weapon, because Lord knows she was going to get out of here today and today at the latest, and she would for sure need it ASAP. 

Honestly, it was only her first day, and she’d been punished already. What other sick punishments did this creeper have planned for her besides spanking her and touching her? She felt as though she was in a porno. She knew about this because she had walked in on her aunt-yes, her aunt-watching it one day while trying to earn ideas for ‘the bedroom’, and had seen them do exactly that-the man had spanked the woman mercilessly with the paddle and touched her right after, making her forget the emergency word. That night Isanne had had to listen to music REAL loud because the groans and grunts coming from her aunt and uncle’s bedroom had not sound merciful to her. Her aunt must have whipped her uncle like mad, and it sure hadn’t sounded merciful. Her aunt high-fived her the next morning when it was time for breakfast. And what did her uncle do? Didn’t sit for a week. That was the highlight of the year. 

Isanne decided that if Harry didn’t let her go this instant, that she was going to tie him up and punish him on the buns to see how he liked it. That’d be so funny. All of a sudden the idea of staying here didn’t seem so…bad. If the tables were turned and he was the victim instead of her, then all would be well, right? 

Wrong. She wouldn’t dream of doing that to somebody. And it doesn’t matter how many rash thoughts of taking over run through her mind, at the end of the day, she is still the victim. 

"What do you even want from me, Harry? I mean, ever since I was taken, you’ve done nothing but-"

"You. I want you." 

"No, Harry, you can’t just ‘want’ someone and abduct them!"

"Oh, but I would," he shot back arrogantly. "And I did."

"I wish you would just let me go…" She tried the begging card. 

"And I wish you would just let it go and accept your new life…" he whined in the same tone of voice as her. 

He dare mock her? Oh, he was so going to get it later on tonight when she put whip cream all over his hand and made him slap his face with it like Johnny did with Ben the Thing in Fantastic Four! Hopefully he’d knock himself out in the process, giving her enough time to locate the exit of this place and get the heck out! She would stay up all night waiting for him to fall asleep if it meant finally getting home. Her mind was in overdrive right now, planning away. 

"You’ve already had your way with me. Now, if you don’t release me right this instant-"

"Release you?" He leaned down so that he was even closer to her. "Bear…are you in need of a release?" That mischievous glint in his eye…she recognized it from before. She liked to call it the ‘I-deserve-a-smack-glint. Because he did. 

Upon hearing his words, she felt a pressure. A slow, burning pressure that had been going on inside her ever since he touched her the first time. A fire that had only increased with every hit she’d received on her booty. 


She averted her eyes, using all the will, strength and determination she had to keep herself from leaning into him and grinding her body up against his. She wanted to sear his man buns like he had done to hers-yes, but the only thing she could think about at the moment was the way his hands had…roamed her lower body, if you will. 

"You liked the way I touched you…" He said it as a statement. As a fact. Not an opinion. He was smirking yes. But with every word, his smirk faded more and more. "You liked having my fingers caress your wet, creamy heat…" He stepped closer until her back was touching the wall and she was trapped once again. She felt as though she was the girl in the ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ music video, with Harry coming onto her. And it felt lovely. "You liked the way I…"

She got lost in a daydream as she watched his lips move, imagining herself to be the girl in that first music video as he came closer and closer…

'Baby you light up my world like nobody else, the way that you flip your gets me overwhelmed but when you smile at the ground…'

"…it ain’t hard to tell, you know," he said, snapping her out of her little fantasy. Honestly, she wishes he were singing those words to her instead of talking dirty to her. It would have made her actually want to maintain the moment and not escape it. "Only I can make you feel this way," he said, trailing his large hand down her stomach and slipping it into her leggings. He touched her over her underwear. "See? You’ve soaked your knickers, Sweetheart. Is this for me?" He whispered, putting a hand on the wall beside her while continuing to roam his other around her ‘wet heat’, as he’d called it. 

"N-no," she said scoffing as though what he’d suggested was incredulous. But she couldn’t look away from him. His eyes were holding her still more that anything, and she knew if she tried to run, that she’d fall right onto the ground because her knees were sure to buckle from all the pleasure he was making her feel. He was only touching her through her underwear, and she already felt this way. 

"No?" he whispered almost mockingly, already knowing the answer. The real answer. He was the only one that had ever made her feel this way, but she wasn’t going to let him into that little detail. If anything, she was going to make him believe she was the wildest of them all back home before he started ‘stalking’ her or whatever so that maybe he’d get disgusted, send her back home, and leave her alone. 

"Of course not, you goon. The only reason it’s ‘soaking’ or however you put it is because…it’s because…" she couldn’t hold that thought. His hand was already inside her panties, causing trouble. Trouble had never felt…so good. 

"Oh no? Then why are you spreading your legs for me?" 

They spread themselves! She is not to blame!

But she couldn’t even answer. She felt herself growing dizzy under his gaze and soft touch. How could someone be so strong and tough when beating her with a leather belt, yet so soft and gentle when touching her this way? 

"I’m the only one that can make you feel this way," he growled lowly in her ear. "And I’m the one that’s going to ever touch you this way. Got it?" 

She felt the heat in her stomach burning up an arousal that just wouldn’t die down. Why was she feeling this way? Why was she letting an utter stranger control her and touch her like this? Where did all her morals go? And her common sense? Better yet, where did her ability to even think run off to? 

"Baby, answer me." 

She started nodding. “I…I-” But then she stopped herself. What was she doing? Was she giving in so easily because of a little turn on? Please. Isanne was way smarter than that. “I-No,” she stated firmly, looking up to meet his eyes. She tried to grab his wrist and pull his hand out from her pants but it was no use. Her strength was no match for his. 

But having little strength did not make you stupid. It only made you have to alter the way you thought, because your first strategy obviously was not gong to work. That being to show the guy who’s boss. In the physical sense, anyway. But she could do that in other ways. Just how exactly could she show him that she wasn’t going to give in, without making him punish her again? 

She was going to use the slut card, but she knew that could get her in deep. Literally, he would dive in deep to find out if she was lying or not, and that simple bit of sass could result in her losing her virginity. And perhaps get punished even worse for lying to him. 

So what was she to fall back on? 

Why, the Heart of the Ocean strategy of course. In other words? She was going to have to be lachrymose. 

'Come on, Isanne. Think! What makes you sad? What makes you cry? Hmm….Got it!' 

"H-Harry…" He stopped at the tone of her voice. "Harry, please…." she tried not to laugh as she forced tears to her eyes. The thought of never leaving here again. The thought of going hungry. The thought of being raped. The thought of dying without being saved. All made the waterworks come easier. She only hoped this worked on him. He didn’t seem completely heartless, from what she’d learned this fine day. 

But then again, he’d kidnapped her without second thought, so…

"Baby…" he took his hand out from her trousers and licked her juices off his fingers before wiping them on his pants-making her want to moan-and immediately brought his hands to her face, pushing back stray hairs from her face. 

Well, he had the look of genuine concern, so maybe he wasn’t so so bad…Unless he really was a paid actor of some sort. Though she didn’t really want to, she was already planning to sue this guy when she got out of here. But if this was on T.V., many were going to be sued. 

"Sweetheart, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?" No hint of a joke or smirk here, he was serious. 

"Because Harry, look at what you’re doing to me," she cried, the tears coming out naturally now. "I don’t even know you, and you’re already using force against me and touching me and what have and you and quite frankly, I don’t like it-"

"And quite frankly, I don’t care," he said, his gentle eyes now darkening. "You are mine, Isanne. I have the right to punish you when I see fit. And I have the right to touch you however I please." 

"No, you don’t-"

"Yes I do. I reserved those rights when I decided to make you mine." 

"But I-"

"Now, I know you’re not mine in every way yet. But you will be soon enough. I wouldn’t force myself upon you, and you know that. If I touched you, it was because you and I both know you wanted it. You enjoy the feel of my fingers down there-"

"No! I-"

"And don’t even try to deny it," he said pointing an accusing finger at her, making her scoff and look away. He brought her chin right back up to face him. 

"Harry, this-this is wrong!" She motioned with her arms. "You, me this is wrong!" He put his hands in his pockets-making her wonder once again how they even fit-and stepped back one to get a better look at her. 

"Actually, Sweetheart this is one thing in my life that I feel sure of. You are the one thing in my life that feels right. Completely right." He whispered the last part, making her go weak at the knees. Now, where had this happened before? 

Oh, right. 

"But Harry, you…you kidnapped me! Why can’t you just take me home? You…you took me against my will and forced me to go home with you! What did I do while I was unconscious?" she asked herself in her mind, mentally scratching her head. "Did I offer myself to you, was that it? Did I beg you to take me home because you’re ‘Harry Styles’ from One Direction, as you say you are? If so, I didn’t mean it, I was just-"

"Actually, no, Love." He smirked. "You fell asleep on me. Right in my arms."

"What?" Okay…what? 

He sighed. “Look, baby girl…I don’t want to leave you in the dark. But you’re mine…and really, that’s all you need to know. And you’re not gonna change my mind” He gave her an honest look, as though that little bit of information was indeed the answer to life or something. As though it was 42. 

He didn’t listen. He wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t listen. She had figured this out about him whenever she tried to get answers. The only stupid word he knew how to say was ‘mine.’ Quite a dense vocabulary from someone who’s traveled the world, huh?!

"I’m just…I’m done with your stupid games!" she yelled at him. 

"Attitude, Sweetheart. You don’t want me to have to punish you over again, do you?" 

With an exasperated groan, she threw her hands in the air before walking away, giving him the opportunity to let out the few chuckles he’d been holding in. He loved to see her get so worked up, and knew that this was just the beginning. 

He knew she hadn’t paid attention to where anything was around the house, and he was going to have a good laugh watching her get lost everywhere, which is her fault for not listening. But what he was really going to enjoy was the moment she discovered that she’s too turned on to do anything but beg him to put his hand back in her pants. He’d gotten her worked up enough to know that she was in need of a proper orgasm, and decided that that was punishment enough for one day. Well, for now. He knew the girl would piss him off one way or another.
End Notes:
I have a proposal. Fear not, for I am not asking you to marry me LOL. That is saved for a certain Mr. Styles…haha I joke I joke. This is just random stuff and you can just disregard this as junk mail if you want, but…

Since the 12 Days of Christmas are cool…
I dare you to find 12 things.

1 is a Justin Bieber song. 

11 have to do with 1D. 

You will know the moment you see them. They all have something in common.

Not yet sure what the winner should receive, but this will not go unrewarded. This is just stupid fun! :) Oh and if you want, for a bonus: What is it that they all have in common? LOL it’s a dumb question but I’m doing this because it makes no sense! ;) And I have a question. Only if you want to answer, this isn’t part of the game thing or anything. In your honest opinion,do you think it has too much humour? I mean I know kidnapping stories aren’t supposed to be well, funny lol because it’s scary. Should I perhaps make it more…well, serious? Like a little more somber? Or well, sober? Because it sounds like they’re drunk or something LOLO. I’m just wondering if it’s too much or something or not enough of that and such.
Chapter 8 by PeachGirl
Author’s Notes:
I took a darker approach. Perhaps I should do over some of the earlier chapters. Kidnapping blows in one way or another, no matter who’s the culprit. This may have been a little too happyish from the start. I apologize for that. I tend to have difficulties writing dark and keeping serious. I may do this over, but I’ll think before doing first. The good thing is that we are not too far along to be able to do that, so it shouldn’t be too much of a hassle. So, 75% dark, 25 % HappyGo, maybe?
Isanne was sitting on the last step of the spiraling stairs. The moment she’d found them, she’d had to sit down because the weight of everything was too much for her to carry up the stairs. 

She needed to release. Her arousal was driving her mad. But just the slightest upturning of Harry’s lips whenever he glanced at her gave her the strength to hold it in. The guy didn’t deserve the satisfaction. She’d rather suffer all night with this little problem than have him touch her again. She could just…feel his fingers…down there. While the foreign feeling had felt nice in the beginning, it was the afterthoughts she was having that were making her regret not having been tougher on him. It was the realization of what he’d done to her that were making her grimace more and more each second that she remembers what he did to her. The events were replaying itself in her mind, and it was finally fully dawning on her that this indeed wasn’t a stupid joke. Her aunt had played no part in this, and neither had her uncle. Celebrity or not, they would have Harry arrested immediately if they were to find of what happened. 

The man had stalked her. He then kidnapped her. But not before she fell asleep in his arms-or so he said. If he was telling the truth…then she just flung herself right into the opposing force’s arms, and made herself the victim-unknowingly and unintentionally of course, but she’d done this to herself nonetheless. 

How stupid. 

How could she not realize that she was being taken away from her home, put on a plane, and flown to North London, England? How is that possible? She’d been on a plane before-and she was always aware of the feeling at the pit of her stomach when the plane departed from the ground as was on take off. She was always aware of the scary turbulence that was experienced with every ride due to the thick clouds. She knew exactly how her ears felt, how they hurt from constantly popping due to being thousands of miles off the ground. She never got sleep on a plane-not more than a few minutes a time, anyway. She tossed and turn uncomfortably on the upright seats every time, and there was always some kid who enjoyed stomping on the back of her seat. And yet, she had simply slept through it all in the arms of sicko who claimed to ‘care’ for her. 

How absurd. 

She no longer cares of how he did it. What mattered was getting out of here-quick. Before he did anything else. It was only her first day. Her first day, and she had already been touched inappropriately against her will, as well as had the sense of touch beat out of her butt cheeks. 

How could she just let him do stuff to her like that? How could she just let him help himself and have his way with her? 

She knows why. Because she’d never done such things before. She was new to the whole ‘dating’ deal, and to be thrown into a whole other country with a man who thought of her as ‘beautiful’ and such, she’d been too naïve to do anything but be led and follow along. The man wasn’t even a full grown one, but rather a teenager. Harry Styles-only nineteen years old, right? How could she let a kid kidnap her? He was nothing more than some months older than her and yet, she had become a victim at his mercy so easily. 

But a slap on the face, sexual assault, and fifteen painful whips on her behind later, enough was enough. 

Who was he to tell her what she could and couldn’t say?

Who was he to tell her how she could and couldn’t act? 

He had no business trying to control her. She hadn’t consented to this. And apart from knowing that he sang, had fun, and had thousands of fans around the world, she didn’t know who this man even was. So who was he to try and change her, and who was she to try and obey? Who was she to be submissive and comply to his every fantasy, wish, and command? 

Easy. In his eyes, he was the predator, and she his prey. He was the leader, and she the follower. He was the man, and she his woman. 

Wrong. It was as simple as this: he was the criminal, and she the victim. 

And that’s exactly how people ended up dead, gone, and missing forever. By giving in to that belief. 

But that wouldn’t happen to her. She wouldn’t let it. She didn’t believe in killing herself, but she wouldn’t just sit back and comply. She couldn’t just sit back and let him do this. She had to get out of here someway. And she didn’t have to try and please him in the meantime. She didn’t have to do anything for him. He was nothing of hers. Honestly, the guy just needed some praying done for him. That, and a whack on the head. 

Which she was more than ready to give him. When the time was right, anyway. 

"You done analyzing me?" 

She got scared, yes. But did she jump, startled? No. She didn’t even blink at the sound of his voice. She didn’t realize she’d been staring at him. But while he thought she had been staring at his lips, pretty hair, nice eyes, and such…she had really been staring through him. 

Analyzing was an understatement for what she’d been doing. And he’d learn of that soon enough. 

The first thing he noticed ten minutes after she’d sat down on those steps was that she didn’t blink for five minutes at a time. Meaning, she’d blinked twice in the last ten minutes. Whereas before, she was flinching over every little thing, she was hardly even closing her eyes. now. He could see her staring at right him as he leaned against the wall, but he wasn’t sure if she even knew he was there. She was awfully quiet. And though he knew he shouldn’t be, he was getting worried. 

She still didn’t blink, but he knew she was looking at him now, instead of through him. “Well?” Her expression was blank. Emotionless. She’d spaced out, and her eyes had protectively clouded her thoughts so that he couldn’t read them. He couldn’t see nothing but black and white past her baby blues. Nothing but bland. 

Should she answer him? Should she answer his stupid question and make him happy? Or should she let on to what she was thinking? Who cares. It’s not like he’d hear her out anyways. 

"God bless you." Though her voice was hoarse from not talking, he heard the words clearly. She turned to leave, and took two steps up at a time so as not to have to face him. She couldn’t hate him. She had no such feeling in her body. But she wasn’t going to applaud him on his successful mission, either. 

She didn’t know where his room was since the house was so huge. And normally, she loved large homes. Being able to run through the new rooms and discover new things and pick her own had always been her favorite thing about moving, which she’d done quite a few times. 

But in this case, she only found the generous space to be more of a trap, rather than an escape. It was like a maze. There were too many places too run, leaving her turning her head in every which way, decision less as she searched for the right place to go. Harry would be able to find her anywhere. This was his house. 

But she couldn’t even dream of finding her way out. She didn’t even know where the front door was. If she had seen it, she didn’t remember. It only comes to show how dense she had been within the last few hours. Whatever the heck she had been doing then, she sure as heck wasn’t doing it now. Harry had it too easy. Then. But now…

It was either that he’d have all the reason to hit her. Or no reason at all. 

God forbid he lock her up, she was going to have to think fast. She didn’t know his tour schedule, but wasn’t going to stay here while he went on tour and lived his life. Nor, was she going to stay here in the house with him. She didn’t know the man, and the whole situation was wrong. Even if he was her boyfriend she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of moving in with him until he was her husband. 

Unless he brainwashed her to the point where she got Stockholm Syndrome, he wouldn’t stand a chance with her. 

And she had something many people didn’t have. She had faith. In God. 

So even though she was five foot two, with weak, brittle arms, and he was a six-plus foot guy with the whole package, he didn’t stand a chance against her. Because the good guys always won in the end, right? Lose-Lose for him, Win-Win for her. 

She rounded a corner, and found herself heaving with every step she took and couldn’t find his room. The enemy’s room. The place she’d woken up in. The beginning of her nightmare. She wasn’t crying, but she was panicking. Breathing harder. Why couldn’t she find it…where was the enchanting bathroom? Was it even real?

She knocked into the tall dark figure that had come out of nowhere, and was hoping that she’d fall back against the ground rather than be steadied by the large hand that belonged to it. But she didn’t. 

"You okay there, Sweetheart?" He wasn’t just talking about now. He was talking about before as well.

'Do you mean after you ripped me from my home, whipped me and felt me up inappropriately? Of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?' she thought sarcastically. But kept that blank expression on her face throughout. 

She hoped a nod would suffice, because she wasn’t up for talking to such a sick man at the moment. If he could even be called a man…the guy would be in his second year of college right now if he weren’t in a famous singing group. 

"Bear…" he took her chin in his hand and forced her to look up at him. "Bear, I asked you a question, I expect you to answer it. With words, please." 

'Nothing is ever enough for you, is it, Harry?' she yelled at him in her mind. 

"Yes." she said curtly before ripping her chin from his hold. She tried to sidestep him, but he moved right in front of her. She tried it with the other side, knowing immediately he would do it again, and when he moved to the other side, she quickly stepped forward in her original direction, getting past him. But not before he shot out a hand behind him and grabbed her arm. 

They had their backs turned away from each other, so neither was facing the other. He was holding her arm behind him as she faced forward, and he knew the second he released it she would keep walking. He hung his head, noticing the change in her attitude. How could someone change in such short little time? What was she, Bipolar? 

"Kitten….talk to me." He felt sad. He liked this girl. Genuinely liked her. She’d been in his heart for months, and even today it’s been quite a field day with her due to her unique and hilarious ways of saying things. 

She was different-he’d gathered that much three months ago. And he wanted her for himself. He wanted her to like him. But how could he expect her to start liking him if she had already started hating him? 

"I’ve never met you before," she said quietly behind him but loud enough for him to hear. "You say you’ve known me, but I don’t know you. At the end of the day, it’s two people in a friendship. It’s two people that form a relationship-not one with the other. I realized this is not a joke. But I’m not going to pretend I’m okay with this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would really like to be alone right now." 

With that, she gently tugged her arm from his and paused for a second to make sure he wasn’t following her, and began to walk forward. 

"A left, then a right." 

"I beg your pardon?" she asked upon hearing his words. 

"That’s where my room is." 

"Oh. Thank you." Not glancing behind her, she went in the direction of his room, admiring the various paintings of landscapes and such hung on his walls along the way. He had a nice home. If he only he had a nice heart to go with it. 

She entered his room, and instantly felt closer to home. More so than she had when she was downstairs, where the exits supposedly are. She hadn’t lost any hope whatsoever of getting out of here, and began to search for her phone in her bag once she’d entered the amazing bathroom. She could only pray that he hadn’t taken it. She couldn’t believe that she’d been kidnapped and hadn’t even made any attempts to get in contact with the outside world. But the last few minutes had been quite the eye opener, and she was grateful for that. Time to make up her mind about all of this. And was she okay with it? 

H to the No. 

She searched and searched in her purple bag, but found zilch. No phone, nothing. Of course he had taken it. He wouldn’t just let her get away that easily. 

She got up and turned to leave the bathroom, but had to stop and gawk upon seeing the sunlight shining through the large glass windows reflecting off shiny surfaces beautifully. She stepped forward towards the window but had to stop midway due to the painful glare that was hurting her eyes. The sun was bright, the sky blue, and the birds happy. She could imagine the fresh air, as well, and decided that soon enough she’d experience it all firsthand. If only she could find that phone…

She turned to leave the room, and almost tripped over her feet because all she could see was blue. The glare had really hit her eyes, and she knew she’d be a little blinded for the next few minutes or so. But that wouldn’t stop her. She remembered her footsteps walking into the bathroom and retraced them, making her way back into the large bedroom. She got on her knees and crawled around, trying to find it. Perhaps it’d been dropped onto the floor when he’d brought her bag in here? Or maybe-hopefully-he’d left it in one of his pants and he’d forgotten that he’d taken them off and left them there-

Oh, hush. Just look for the phone. 

She searched and searched trying to avoid the glare of the sun making it through his bedroom windows, but not being able to since he had a whole wall of a window, plus a few more scattered neatly throughout. Needless to say, there was a lot of sun threatening to blind her into submission. 

Too bad for the traitor sun that that wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t submit to that monster. Because that’s what he was-a monster. In the nicest sense so far, but a monster nonetheless. She wouldn’t give in to this Bowser-like creature. 

She would find that phone, she would alert the authorities, and she would make it out of here by tonight. Morning, at the latest. For all she knew, she probably wasn’t even in England. He’d probably just locked her in a home two blocks away from her house and fed her bull to satisfy her curiosity-which was still burning with the desire of knowledge. 

She kept walking on her knees, feeling along the way with her hands, not being able to rid of the blue blinding her eyes, but came in contact with something hard. No, it was soft, but hard under the surface. 

She then recognized the delicious scent of expensive cologne, and realized that it was just Harry crouched in front of her, while she was touching his socked foot. 

What did he want now? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? 

She was about to ask him this when he reached over and held an unknown object in front of her. She still couldn’t see, and wouldn’t be able to for a while, but she wouldn’t let him know that. She grabbed the object and immediately recognized it as her bag-not her duffel bag but the smaller one she always kept her phone and such in. 

"My bag!" She wanted to fling herself in his arms and thank him, but then remembered the situation. "Thank you," she quietly murmured instead. Didn’t want to be rude, now. At least she still some respect for others. Better than what she could say about him.

She reached her hand inside and began her search. Okay, she was looking for the key to her escape while her abductor was there right in front of her…her plan was terminated before she could even start it. 

"I’m sorry, Love," he whispered, reaching into the bag and pulling something out before standing up and stepping away from her. Through her minimal eyesight, she saw the glint of the sun reflect off the little apple on the back of it.

He just took her phone. Right out from under nose. Literally. 

She didn’t scream. She didn’t cry. She didn’t talk. She simply stood up and made her way onto the bed, which thankfully was right in front of her. She got under the covers, and pulled them over her head. She folded her arms, ignoring the sigh that came from the foot of the bed. 

She didn’t want to smell him, but had no choice. She was in his house, in his bed, after all. She didn’t want to face him. She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to know him. And hopefully, after today, she wouldn’t anymore. Although it was probably only three or so in the afternoon in England, she decided that she’d stay right here. It was the place where this nightmare had started, and hopefully would end. She’d fall back asleep, she’d wake up in her room back in Ausable Forks, New York, with her aunt, her uncle, and her Lynx, and this would have only been a bad dream. Nothing more, nothing less.