Wicked Games » h.s

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[Unedited]

❝You will never find the right person if you don't let go of the wrong one.❞

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[Angel's POV]

Two days had passed since the last time I saw Harry and I didn't know how to feel about it. Was I relieved that he hadn't appeared in my company again? I don't know. I mean, I should have, it was me that left him that night when he was still fast asleep and didn't look back. It was my decision to let go of him. But as those days passed I realised one important thing.

I wanted to see him, again.

I just couldn't stop myself from thinking about his eyes, his lips, his smile...him. My body still remembered the way he had touch me, the way his lips and body felt pressed against my skin. Without wanting to I raised my fingers up to my lips, touching them softly. My eyes closed as I recalled the intimate moment we shared. My heartbeat increased just thinking about it. He had made me feel special, beautiful... loved.

I sighed in frustration, throwing the pen that I had in my hand away. I frowned as I looked down at the papers, waiting to be signed on top of my desk, and rested my head on my hands.

I shouldn't be feeling like this. My mind was screaming to me to forget about him and about what happened between us. I cheated on Daniel, and the worst part is that I didn't even think about him when I did it. When I was with Harry, I forgot he ever existed. I'm guilty. When I'm around him I can't think straight, I do things that I shouldn't do.

I don't know what I want. I'm scared.

I took a breath and lifted my head up, turning on my computer. What Harry had told me, made me want to do some research for myself. I still couldn't believe what my aunt and Daniel did. They hid the truth for me and it wasn't about something small and unimportant, no, it was about the fact that I had a boyfriend. A guy that loved me and I loved him back, he proved that to me. Why would they lie to me about this?

I shook my head and turned my attention on the screen, writing down my name. Immediately different kind of articles appeared in front of me and I clicked on each one of them, reading them. They were all recent, mostly from the night at Harry's art exhibition, and they talked about the fact that they had never seen me before. They didn't know I even existed.

But then something else caught my attention and I furrowed my eyebrows, leaning closer towards the screen as I clicked on the article. It was a picture of me and Harry and it wasn't a recent one, it was taken almost a year ago here in New York. I looked slightly different, my hair was a dull shade of brown instead of my current chocolate- reddish one, and my clothes... well, it wasn't something I would wear now. I was facing away from the camera, like I was trying to hide my face, and Harry was standing next to me. His hand was placed on the small of my back as he guided the way.

What caused my frown to deepen, though, were the things that were written under the pictures. They were criticising me, about the way I looked and my clothes. They were calling me poor and unworthy to be his girlfriend. No one knew my identity, I was simply Harry's new love interest. Nothing more appeared, those were the only pictures of us together expect from the ones I saw that night.

"That's weird." I whispered, running a hand through my hair. My aunt had told me that I was hiding from the media and that I didn't want my father's inheritance, but I was expecting to, at least, find something useful. Nothing.