Like Real People Do | Harricole
A smile gilded Harry’s lips as he chuckled. “How could I leave out my favorite part?” he responded, eyes twinkling. “I can’t imagine why he’d say so as though it were a bad thing. I anticipate my sordid future with nothing short of glee.” It was a lie. Oh, Harry could bask in any earthly pleasure, and would, but the future was to him an executioner’s axe which hovered with cruel judgement just above him. He could feel the whisper of its breath already upon his skin any time he thought of what would await him. He suppressed the shiver that ran its death-cool finger down his spine. “You must,” he said softly, but there was something of desperation of his tone, even as he tried to smile with some glib fondness. “You must join me.” The contemplation of a life without her would be his ruin.
He rolled his eyes away from her. “Why, sis, I think we both know that my opinion has little bearing on the question. It’s your father’s will that really matters, as always.” He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin as a form of comfort. “I feel confident he will have much to say on the subject.” He turned to look at her. “Don’t worry, Nic, I mean to shame him publicly as much as possible for the rest of my life. I can’t think of a better opportunity, can you?”
Yet, he could feel her anxiety rolling off her in waves. Anxiety and…something else. He knew good and well that his petty jabs would do nothing to bring anyone any real comfort, but it was the only weapon he had, and he’d be striking at the heart of the beast for the both of them. Taking one of her hands, he folded it into his and drew it to his lips. Her fingers were warm and, giving her hand a small squeeze, he placed it over his heart. Harry said nothing for a moment, letting the small gesture say what it could. They would both need this, he thought, to think back on. Little moments took on lives of their own, particularly when he was looking into her fathomless eyes.
Breaking the eye contact, he gentled his grip on her hand before releasing it and sitting upright. His laughter was joyless. “Rich and hopelessly stupid, wonderful.” He arched a brow at her. “I could get away with almost anything. Whatever should I try, sister?” he asked, indigo eyes fixed on her own as though she were oxygen and he were a drowning man. He felt her anger, the little jabs, but he looked past them to see what was in her heart. He felt the twisting pangs in her heart as his own, for they had twins in his. He lied back again.
As the conversation turned back to whether she’d want him as a stranger, he allowed himself the ghost of a smile, yet there was something dark in his eyes as though he were a flame left in a draft, flickering and faltering. She hovered above him, suspended as though by some breeze. Harry half believed that the god Zephyrus loved her and meant to steal her away on her wedding night to his fortress amongst the clouds where the sun’s radiance might be eclipsed by the heat of her eyes. Her hands were on his face, then, commanding his gaze: tender, yet an authority he didn’t dare question. Her eyes were a maelstrom and he was a sailor clinging to life beneath the storm. He knew he ought to surrender, drink deep of the cup she offered, but life was all he’d ever known and he clung to it with a fool’s desperation.
She spoke of the game and Harry smiled. “Go on, Nic,” he responded, voice oddly thick. “Toy with my heart. I wouldn’t blame you, you know,” he added. “You know I play games, too, and I fear I’d enjoy playing any game with you far too much to reason. I expect you’d have me begging for mercy before you were finished.” He smiled. “Good. Someone has to teach me a lesson.”
Harry chuckled, after she’d moved away from him and spoke of her desire to be more indecent. “I can’t promise you much, sis, but you can always count on that. They’d talk of little else for months, between the two of us.”
As she sobered, so did he. He watched her face shift, the little traces of regret in the cool orbs. “You don’t need to defy him, sis,” he said, softly. “That’s what you have me for, isn’t it? You know what happens when…” Harry could misstep - and often did - because Frederick was not overfond of the notion of going toe-to-toe with him, now. Nicole lacked that luxury. “Besides, your husband-to-be will knock enough shame into him for you, when he appears.”
Harry hoped he didn’t have much in common with Lex Porter, but there was that. They both would have been reprobates, were it not for the cash in their pockets. Lex had no regard for Frederick’s feelings and appeared to enjoy flaunting them. Harry did enjoy, himself, the notion of Frederick willingly chaining his family name to a man who would forever humiliate him. It was Lex’s one virtue. Of course, Frederick would no doubt ultimately hold Nicole accountable for Lex’s conduct, since Frederick could hold no sway over Lex and could do so over Nicole, which made the whole affair all the more lamentable, but at least Nicole would be safe in Lex’s house. Harry envied him that: the ability to take Nicole away from it all, keep her safe.
“Don’t say that, sis,” he added, softly. There was comfort in his voice and in his eyes, though he didn’t truly know how to assuage her anguish. It was his own. “You’ve only a little time left before you can go anywhere in the world to escape him. Your husband will not forbid you that.” That much, at least, could be said for him.
As she spoke further, Harry sat up and pulled off the sunglasses she’d put back on him, so that he could look her in the eye. Impulsively, he touched her face with his left hand, brushing unruly curls away with the other. “Don’t imagine you can shake me loose so easily, sis. His left hand diverted from its course, moving to gently rest just beneath her breast where he could feel the pulse of her heart. “It’s as we’ve always promised one another. I’ll always be here. Besides,” he added, softly. “We both know, deep down, that you’re the brave one. You won’t need me anymore once you’re free of him. All you’ll need is here,” he added, applying the softest pressure to her chest.
His eyes were fixed on hers, indigo matched with cerulean, and his breathing felt a heavy charge. Her heart beat against her ribs, against his hand, her breath stirred her golden locks. Neither moved for a prolonged moment before Harry slipped his sunglasses back on and reverted to his earlier pose, turning his face back towards the still waters of the pool.
Harry’s lips twitched into a smile when she said she’d need not bend for him. “I don’t play by any rules, anyway, sis,” he responded, teasingly. “So you’d never have to break them for me, in that way, would you?” Yet, that wasn’t entirely true either. He had one rule, and it kept them apart.
Pouring a neat glob of suntan lotion into his hand, Harry smirked softly. “Of course,” he responded, promptly. “I wouldn’t dream of letting you bake.” He watched as he pulled down the straps to reveal bear shoulders. “You ready?” he asked. “It’s cold.”
A bright laugh poured over Nicole’s lips as well at Harry’s mirth. “That’s what I was wondering myself, actually.” She teased back, tilting her head to the side and pulling her lips into a smile brighter than the sun. “And here I had thought you were the jester king of VA Beach! I was about to be very disappointed if you somehow became discontent with the thought of living your life free of sin.” And yet, when Harry looked up at her and insisted that she join him, something tugged desperately in her chest.
“Then I will.” She said quietly, the back of her fingers gently brushing against his cheek. “I’ll join you and we’ll become the most terrifyingly indecent pair this place has ever seen. We’ll humiliate Father at every turn with our games. Make him regret ever thinking he could control us. It’ll be heaven…” Her gaze was as soft as her fingers, touch coming to rest upon his lips for a brief moment before she pulled her hand away once more and couching her darkest jealousies in more half-hearted jokes. “After all, even a jester king needs a queen, and as I’ve already said, you have a very poor selection to choose from here. Frederick will make sure that you’ll only have the dregs to pick from…”
Yet Nicole could barely keep the hatred flickering in her chest as Harry took one of her clenched hands into his own. His lips brushing against her knuckles sent a flash of lightning bolting up her arm and electrocuting her very heart. A flush colored her cheeks, a soft breath fell from her lips, and suddenly she was trapped in his gaze as he pressed her hand over his heart.
“Sad little clowns by the dozens…” She continued, voice quiet as she gazed back down at him, fingers brushing back and forth in soft circles against his chest, wondering if she would have ever been allowed to parade amongst them as well. “Makeup caked upon their faces in constant frowns. Who will make you laugh, then? How will they ever manage it?” The moment passed just as quickly as it had come as Harry released her hand and shifted his weight further from her. The unrelenting slate cliffs of their impending futures rising between them once more as he bitterly laughed at the futility of it all.
Nicole knew she could not admit to the moment of hope that passed through her, though, as his eye caught her own when he asked her what he should attempt to get away with after being shackled to his own golden ox.
“I suppose you could try and get away with the same things I’ll try… Slip out under the cover of the dark to meet someone who can make you smile. Someone who will make the joke your life has become somehow funny again.” Her gaze was steady as she looked back at him, wondering if he knew she meant herself. That it was what she hoped he wanted in this fetid wasteland of a life they’d been thrust into.
Because dear God, what the hell would she ever do without him? She’d waste away in that lonely mansion all by herself. After all, it wasn’t like Lex would stick around. She knew him. He was like her. Not a monster, but neither of them loved each other and they both knew it. Harry, Lex, Nicole… All three of them were trapped inside the swirling maw of Charybdis, and Nicole feared that they would never be released. At least not until they had been properly crushed to pieces.
So instead she let out a small sigh and leaned upon Harry gently, blue gaze heady and dark as her fingers traced his jaw now instead, while he urged her to take his heart for her own personal chew toy. His stare was a heady thing. If she didn’t know better, she’d call it rapturous. That if she were only brave enough perhaps this moment would bring her all the things she’d ever wanted.
“I don’t think you’d like the kind of games I play, Harry.” She said with a sad smile as she brushed dark strands of hair from his forehead and sat up. Nicole was many things, but brave was not one of them. “Yours and mine are too similar. We’d end up battling each other and the prizes we’d wish to claim are very, very different.” Nicole’s voice was quiet but her stare was pointed as she looked down at Harry for but a moment before looking away. “You might be right that in the end I would have you begging for mercy, but I don’t think there are any lessons I could teach you that I don’t need to be taught myself.”
Though perhaps I should take a lesson from you on self-control… The thought echoed quietly in the back of her mind and Nicole brushed it away with a shake of her head.
Nicole let out a soft chuckle as Harry once again donned his tin armor and raised his shield in her defense. That’s what you have me for… He said. She reached behind her blindly to take his hand, gentle fingers wrapping around his own. “That is true… I know very well what happens when I decide to rattle the lion’s cage without a knight at hand.” For a moment or two she sat like that, holding his hand tightly as she stared out at the sea. “But I can so easily see a future in which the path you are forced upon sends you so far away from me. And yes, perhaps Lex hates Father as much as we both do. But he doesn’t…” Nicole took a deep breath and looked back at Harry, something almost like fear echoing in her eyes.
“Lex doesn’t know, Harry. He hasn’t seen my…” She swallowed heavily and released Harry’s hand to press her own against her mouth to stifle a small sob that threatened to echo from deep inside her. “I-I’ve always kept the lights off. He’s not supposed to know. I’m not allowed to let him see until everything is over and it’s too late to turn back.” Nicole’s hand fell back in her lap, feeling them tremble ever so slightly as she stared down at them. “If he does know, he hadn’t said a word. Perhaps he doesn’t even care. I wouldn’t be surprised. This isn’t any sort of fairy tale romance for Lex either…” She let out a dark laugh and shook her head once more. “He hates Frederick and wants to humiliate him for his own reasons but… I don’t think he’ll ever understand the same way you do, Harry.”
Nicole sat silent for a little while longer, letting Harry’s comforting words wash over her even as she wanted to laugh at them, to curl her hands into fists and punch at the palm trees that swayed behind them until her knuckles were as raw and bloody as Harry’s had ever been.
“I don’t want to run away.” Nicole said finally. “I know I could escape Frederick and run as far as the world could take me the minute I say ‘I do.’ But, if I did that…” She swallowed tightly. “I don’t think I’d ever see you again, and that is something I just can’t survive, Harry.” The tears she had been holding back slowly began to roll down her cheeks. Her jaw was still set in a harsh line, trying so hard to maintain her composure. After all, there were still servants milling about fifty yards away as they continued to clean up the remains of the party and it would cause quite a scene if someone were to ask questions.
Yet the moment Nicole felt Harry’s hand come to cup her cheek, the other carding gentle fingers through her hair, the quietest sob fell from her lips—barely more than a whimper. One of her trembling hands came up to press against his right, fingers curling against his own as they tangled in her golden curls.
“I will always need you, Harry.” She managed to croak out, red-rimmed eyes locked on his face and her cheek leaning into his touch.
So many other words formed on the tip of her tongue. Diatribes of how she knows that he shall always live in her heart, but how could she survive not being able to speak with him every day? Who would watch over her? Who would she run to in the night when the terrors returned? And most importantly—who would take care of him?
But all these words were lost to the wind as she felt his hand trailing along her body. His nimble fingertips brushing against the sensitive flesh of her side exposed by the pieces cut out of her swimsuit and trailing along her curves to rest just below…
She couldn’t breathe.
Nicole knew distantly that she must be breathing for somehow her heart had not stopped and yet the fact remained:
She could not breathe.
How could she when her world had so quickly shrunk to the square footage of a toaster oven?
How could the entire universe contain enough oxygen to keep her alive when the feeling of Harry’s hand pressing so gently against her ribcage, fingers ghosting against the underside of her breast, was enough to make it feel like she were drowning in the infinite pools of his eyes?
Like a twin pair of vipers her hands snapped out to pull him closer, manicured nails digging into the back of his neck with her desperation.
Hungrily she pressed her lips against his own and devoured him with her kiss. Here was the oxygen she so desperately craved. He was breathing life back into her lungs as their mouths slanted and molded together.
Harry’s arms wrapped around her waist as he turned them both so that Nicole’s back was pressed against the chair. Her fingers scratched down his chest before scrambling at the hem of his shorts…
Yet the vision faded as quickly as it came. Harry’s hand had fallen away—as always—and Nicole could breathe once again.
Somehow she felt like the oxygen wasn’t much of a consolation prize.
For a moment or two she sat there still, fearing she would give in to the base desires of her vision if she allowed herself as much as an iota of movement. Blood was still rushing through her ears. Or was that the waves crashing behind them? It was so hard to tell.
And yet, distantly she knew Harry was speaking to her. That he was asking her questions. That he was waiting for a response. Nicole was terrified to open her mouth. She was so certain that nothing would come out except a scream. And even more so she was certain that if she began, she would never stop.
There was no world in which she would ever be able to have Harry. Nicole had known this from the very beginning. And yet still she tortured herself every waking moment in the wanting of him. The desperate cloying need of him that she also knew would never end until the day she left this earth.
She loved him. She loved him more than anything this world could ever offer her. And for a split second, Nicole had been certain that she had seen a spark in his eye that spoke of the same unending pit of desire.
But he had pulled away. He had leaned back against the chair and left Nicole uncertain if she had seen what she thought she’d seen or if… perhaps…
“Of course.” She said finally, voice thick and contained. Nicole cleared her throat and turned her back towards Harry as she pulled at her suit straps, closing her eyes once more. Anything to attempt to maintain the composure she so easily lost the moment Harry’s hand had trailed along her side and come to rest against her ribs. “Rules are for suckers and poor people.” Nicole quoted her father, tone glib and quiet. “So why would we ever play by them, hmm?” She attempted to smile but the effort fell short. Her voice became tainted at the edges in bitterness and as she opened her eyes the cerulean depths were fringed with frost. “Though sometimes I have the feeling that it’s we who have far more rules we force ourselves to follow than anyone else.”
A few tense moments of silence later Nicole nodded over her bare shoulders at Harry. “Go ahead. It’s fine. I don’t mind the cold. Besides, haven’t you heard? I’m made of marble. Stone doesn’t feel anything. You don’t need to worry about chilling me.” Her lips twisted into another mockery of a flirtatious smile. Her fingers curled around the edge of the chair, turning her knuckles whiter than the tile beneath her feet. “Then again, even if you did somehow manage it, I suppose I’d then just have to find someone to warm me back up again, right? Shouldn’t be a terribly hard task…”
