Ace (HS)

Pivotal

"Fucking freezing in this place," Carmen grumbled under her breath as she shifted on the couch, curling her body into the side of it. The cramped living room was icy cold, for the someone had left the window wide open, letting the November air bleed in. She hugged her arms around herself for warmth, and rubbed hands over her skin.

"The heater's out," a gravelly voice replied. He brought had hand to his mouth, coughing into it, the kind of cough that was dry and thick and clawed at one's throat. Carmen watched with narrowed eyes as he went into the small fridge and pulled out two beers.

"I don't want some cheap ass beer," she told him with an irritated roll of her eyes. He parted his cracked lips to say something, but instead turned and put one of the beers back.

"It's been awhile since I've seen you," her father spoke. He sauntered to the couch, his feet barely lifting off the floor, and slowly sat himself beside her, letting out a heavy breath. The bottle in his hand was brought to his mouth, and he puckered his lips as he drank from it, like a newborn while nursing. Carmen visibly scooted away from him, her side pressed against the arm of the couch; everything about the man beside her was repulsive.

"I've been busy." She looked down at her nails, and mindlessly began to pick at the chipped polish. She had been so quick to leave Harry's apartment that morning, that she hadn't noticed that she was in dire need of a manicure. A faint smile formed on her lips as she reminded herself that she had the richest man in London to supply for her needs whenever she pleased.

The smile faded, though, as images of a blonde woman sitting on his lap clouded her mind.

It was hard not to think about it, and that was what was most alarming to her.

Was love supposed to be this annoying? Surely something as romanticized as love couldn't be as obnoxious as the feelings Harry had stirred up in her. It was infuriating to Carmen, having no control over her own thoughts, her own desires. To have to think about the smallest goddamn details of that man every second, no matter how much she wished she could hate him and forget everything that ever happened.

Love was not apart of her plan.

It was becoming harder and harder for her to remember that, which is why she knew she had to get away soon.

Carmen let out a heavy sigh and stood up from the couch. She hadn't bothered to change out of her already worn dress from the morning, and her face was clear of makeup. It was as if things that used to be so important to her, now seemed so juvenile and petty.

"I'm going for a walk," she mumbled, not expecting a response. A low grunt was all she got in return.

The evening was young as she stepped out of the paltry tenement. It was cold, so she had worn a coat- a thick one lined with a fur collar that Harry had bought for her- and put on a pair of warm boots to protect her feet. Her lips were pressed together from the cold, and her hands were buried in the pockets of her coat. She hated winter.

She also hated this part of London. The concrete sidewalks were cracked and large tree roots snaked between the gaps. Most of the buildings were just as run down as the one she lived in, if not in worse shape; gray paint chipped off to show the auburn brick underneath, and various graffiti sprayed over the walls. This was the world she had grown up in, and it was the world that she wanted to get away from.

She pondered the idea of whether or not Harry would have even spared her a minute of his time if he knew that this was where she really came from. If he knew that the high end clothes on her body were obtained through having sex with men twice her age, and who probably had wives waiting for them. If he knew that she had never experienced even half of the luxury that he lived in. If he knew that everything about her was a lie...