the journal - h.s.

98

[harry's pov]

Basically this might possibly have turned out to be the very worst weekend of my entire fucking life. It had felt like one of those nightmares where you keep running from something you are fundamentally absolutely terrified off. You push yourself further and further - ready to die trying to get away from the horror that you know is behind you. This weekend felt exactly like one of those nightmares, the only difference was; I was never going to wake up.

The car ride to the centrum of Washington DC from the airport had been filled with utter suppressing silence. I was beyond grateful that I had a journal with me to occupy myself in case my thoughts and anger ran wild, so I wouldn't suddenly have my fist connected with Liam's jaw.

The city had rushed by the toned dark windows of the expensive black car while I had felt Liam's eyes occasionally watch me in the rear-view mirror with conflicted emotions roaring behind the deep brown color.

"Are we not going to my father's house?" I had asked in confusion as I had noticed we were heading down another road than what would had led us to the place I despised most of all in the world.

Liam had found my eyes and tried with a soft smile, which I had not welcomed in any way. It fainted just as quickly; "Mr. Styles has reserved a room for you at The Jefferson Hotel, sir."

Surprise had flashed across my face blending with somewhat chilling relief, that I didn't have to sleep in my old room which was still the scenario of my worst nightmares. I had leaned back into the black leather seat holding the new journal tightly in my grasp while my heart had been beating like crazy against my ribcage; I hadn't realized till now just how tense I had felt about going back 'home'. I felt my throat closing up and eyes threatening to show weakness but I forced myself not to break down - definitely not in front of one of my father's people.

Not another word was shared as Liam parked the car in front of the breathtaking entrance. It was fairly dark and the soft warm lights from the luxurious space seemed to drag people in with the tempting cozy yet elegant atmosphere.

Before the doorman managed to open the car door for me - or Liam for that matter - I was already out of there with my bag over my shoulder and journal in my other hand. My jaw was clenched; something very tight and uncomfortable was pressing in my chest as if I was about to walk into the lion's cage willingly. But with each step I took towards the entrance; I had her in mind.

I nodded a single time to the doorman before making my way into the grand hotel. The standard of this place was several levels beyond Public Hotel where I worked, but I had been to places like this before so even though the grandeur was not to miss; it was somewhat easy for me not to stop and stare in awe. Instead I headed directly for the reception desk which was made of dark beautiful wood and decorated with delicate golden lines. Everywhere I looked the style of The Jefferson Hotel oozed of wealth. The walls echoed with the sparkle of diamonds and touching crystal glasses filled with the finest brand of Bourbon. I wasn't surprised my father had chosen this place; it was everything he loved suppressed into one money soaked power greedy traditional style. With the wooden panels, golden framed softly uplit paintings, ink green leather upholstery, and impressive Victorian style chandeliers.

Liam came rushing after me when I had made it into the lobby, "Harry - please listen to me." His voice was low, pleading and nearly desperate, as he grabbed a hold of my arm. I stopped but not because I wanted to hear him out.

"Let go of me," my low voice was thunder formed into a needle sharp stake which made Liam immediately let go as if burned and he took a step back. I was not in the mood to forgive any ego-centered, greedy idiots right now - least of all probably have dinner with the worst of the kind tonight.