Secrets || H.S. Sequel to His Slave || H.S.

Sequel to the deleted His Slave. || H.S.

Harry has his secrets, and so does Alina.

Not telling each other will keep anyone from getting hurt, right?

They're both in for a world of hurt.

©Copyright of khloerose 2014. All rights reserved.


13. smashed.

I know, I know. you're free to hate me. this will be a long chapter, though, I promise. I love you my gorgeous haters. my grandmother (my dad's mum) is in the hospital, and we have family over so... it's crazy here. xxxx




           My plans were already going into plan when Alina left the house. I got up from the couch, walking over to the dining area, where there was a large glass cabinet filled of everything alcohol. I took out two bottles of Smirnoff, keeping one for myself, and passing the other to Harry, who had followed me, looking confused. "Let's play a drinking game, Haz," I told him, grabbing his free hand, interlocking our fingers and pulling him to the bar in the kitchen. I sat down next to him on one of the rotating stools. 


        By the time our drinking game had fully been completed, Harry was completely smashed, and I was only slightly intoxicated. Harry's bottle was on it's side on top of the bar and rolled off, breaking into a million little pieces on the marble ground. Harry laughed, and I couldn't help but giggle softly. Harry lifted me up, managing not to stumble, so I wouldn't step on the glass with my bare feet. I laughed a little louder, pressing my face into his shirt. When we were out of the kitchen, he set me down, yet didn't let me go. I gripped his shirt with two hands. Harry pressed his lips harshly to mine, all the passion and love still there for him. 

      "This," Harry slurred, gripping the hem of his shirt which I was wearing, "Has to go," and with that, the shirt was lifted quickly over my head and thrown to the side. I was left in my newly bought Victoria's Secret black and white lace lingerie set. He bit down on his lip, which was a huge turn-on for me. My hair flowed out loosely on my back, falling to my mid stomach. He pressed his front to mine, allowing me to feel his hard-on. I smirked lightly. Harry tilted his head down, meeting my lips once more, then attacking my neck hungrily. "Jump," Harry whispered against it. I did as I was told, and Harry held me by my thighs. He pressed my back up against the hallway wall. 


(a/n: de ja vu, isn't it? if you don't remember, he cheated on her once before at the welcome home party with a girl in the hallway. bad harry, bad, bad, bad, harry. still love you though. ;))


      I made a move to kiss his lips, and he agreed with the idea, and we kissed passionately. He walked us to the bedroom, throwing me down on the bed. I looked up at him to see the hungry look in his eyes. 


(a/n: pov switch, just a quick heads-up)




         I had been directed to pick up some nail varnish, so I left from El's house and drove back home. When I pulled into the lit driveway, a funny feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. I guessed it to be my lack of food and shrugged it off, walking inside the house. All was silent in the front room, and I thought of everything to be fine until I came to Harry's shirt which was left dropped on the floor in the entrance of the kitchen. A broken Smirnoff bottle was on the ground, and I whimpered softly, scared to even go to the bedroom. I bit down on my lip nervously, walking softly to the bedroom, seeing-what I guessed to be Arabella's-a black lace pair of knickers, I didn't dare go any further, but knew I would have to at some point. I picked up Harry's shirt and Arabella's undies, standing in the doorway of the bedroom. Arabella looked at me from her perspective, where her body was lying half-naked under Harry's body. She smirked lightly, maintaining eye contact with him. 

       Harry finally noticed where she was looking and looked up as well. He laughed heartily. Is this some kind of sick joke? I asked myself at that time. "What the fuck do you want, slut?" Harry asked, scowling at me. My eyes went wide at his crude remark. I walked up to them, not caring what was going on. I slapped him clean across the face, throwing the clothes at his face, storming out, but not before turning back once to speak to Arabella, "I hope you got what you wanted..." 



       I was about ready to call it quits. I didn't bother to get the nail varnish, and quickly left the house, driving back to Eleanor's. When I reached, I explained the situation to the girls, and they embraced me with open arms, compassionate and sympathetic. I of course didn't want their pity, but stayed quiet. I stayed throughout the night, offered several times for one of the girls to call our relationship off for me. I declined each time, knowing I had to face this myself. I was dressed in a lace cream top, red skinnies, a long black cardigan, and my cream Toms. My hair was done in curls down my back. I sighed softly as I made my descent from El's house back to Harry's. I knew they would be sobered up by now, and I was glad. I honestly hated Arabella with all my gut, knowing that she was the cause of this rampage of mine. When I got inside, Arabella was in the kitchen cleaning and Harry was on the couch in the front room. His eyes met mine after he scanned my outfit. I bit down on my lip harshly to keep from crying. 

      "Harry..." I started. He remained quiet. "I can't do this any longer." Harry still didn't speak up. At this point, I half expected him to get down on his knees and ask for forgiveness, but nothing was happening. I was getting frustrated,and even angrier than I already was. "Damn it, Harry!" I yelled, making Harry look up at me after my sudden outburst. "I'm here singling you out for your wrongdoings, and all you can do is sit there?!?" I ask him, exasperated. He stands, now looking down on me.

      "Exactly, Alina! You're telling me about all my wrongdoings, as if you're this perfect poster-human! I already know I'm not good enough for you, I'm reminded every single fucking day when I see your face." Harry said, his voice cracking at the end. "I'm not good enough for you," Harry said softly, his voice going a bit hoarse. I sighed softly, running my fingers through my hair, frustrated. 

      "Harry, if I'm anything, I'm not perfect. Please stop saying that." My cries were not heard as Harry muttered to himself, picking up the empty non-shattered bottle of Smirnoff. My eyes went wide. Harry threw it at me, barely missing my head as it smashed into a million pieces on the ground in front of me. "You deserve better!" Harry yelled, angrily, tears flowing freely down her face. The next thing Harry picked up was a picture of Harry and myself at the nearby park which was in a glass frame. "Harry?! Stop!!" I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen as he yelled loudly about his imperfections and how I didn't need him and deserved better. He threw the picture, and just as the Smirnoff bottle broke, so did the frame. I furrowed my eyebrows, stomping and throwing a fit as if I were just a tot. 




     "I'm done with you, Harry!! We're over!" 


     Just like the broken picture frame and Smirnoff bottles, my heart had been smashed into a million pieces.


a/n: kill me, I deserve it. I'm a terrible person. it's hard when you have family over and sports and school. the lamest excuses ever, I know. the first author's note at the beginning of this chapter was written before Thanksgiving. so you can only imagine how long I have been putting this off for.

I, khloerose of, vow to honour my duties of being a dedicated and loving author to my followers and readers.

was that official enough? I thought so... anyway, you know the deal;


like, comment (can't wait to read what you all have to say, I have 188 flippin' notifs. thanks. I really appreciate it (note the sarcasm). favouriteeeeeeeee. thank you for loving my books. I love you all. 

khloe. xx

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