"Alouette? Or should I say Lark?"

Alouette turns her head towards Ezra as soon as he speaks. "Can I have a minute?"

He sighs. "Only one. You have to get there before it gets dark."

She nods, turning towards Elijah. He's holding Amina in his arms, that is looking at her sadly. "Hey Ami," she says quietly, "be good, okay? I'll be back soon."

"I'll miss you," the little girl replies, and she feels her heart break.

"I'll miss you too, so much," she murmurs, "but you have Elijah and Elodie, so I'm sure you will be just fine. I'll be back before you know it."

"Do you really have to go?"

"Sadly I do." She sighs, looking into her sister's dark eyes. "But it isn't for long, okay? So you be good because I don't want to come back to find out you made Elodie go crazy, alright? I love you."

Amina hugs her, almost slipping out of Elijah's arms. "I love you too."

Elijah puts her down, giving Alouette a little smile. "Be careful, alright? And come back soon, don't leave me alone with these people 'cause they scare me."

She laughs at the comment. "I'll be back so soon, you won't even notice I was gone."

"I surely hope so!"

"Time to go, Nathan is here," Ezra says suddenly, interrupting their conversation, and she nods, waving goodbye to her sister one more time before walking down the couple of steps and towards the black car that had just stopped in front of the building.

"Al!"

She turns around quickly, her lips curving into a smile when she sees Elijah trying to get her attention. "What?" She asked with a chuckle, stopping with her hand on the door handle.

"Be brave," he mouths in her direction and she rolls her eyes, but smiles again anyway.

"Come on," Ezra says, opening the door for her.

She takes in a deep breath and she gets in the car, eyeing a wallet that's on the seat next to hers while she sits down.

"Your fake documents are inside," Ezra tells her quickly, "you aren't allowed to bring anything else. We'll send you everything you need through Nathan later on. Goodbye and good luck." He closes the door and the car speeds away instantly, leaving her to sit there, staring at her home until it gets smaller and smaller, and then disappears from view.

"I'm Nathan," the driver says all of a sudden, and she jumps in her seat. "Sorry. I work as a guard at the lower levels, been there for a couple of years now."

Alouette gives him a nod, crossing her legs and wishing she could disappear into her seat. "What's it like there?"

"It pays well," he simply states. "I'm sure you've already been told everything in the past few weeks so I won't annoy you too much, but I'm reminding you that you'll have to meet me every other day to discuss the developments of the plan. There's a staircase we'll use for our meetings that isn't controlled, I'll make sure to show it to you once we get there."

"Alright," she replies, "thank you."

He glances at her through the rear view mirror. "I'll stop talking now, I don't want to be annoying. The drive will be a couple of hours long."

Alouette nods and lets out a sigh, turning to look out of the window, just to discover they're driving right through Dacran.

It shines of a multitude of colours like the wings of a butterfly or the tail of a peacock, as always.

• • •

Harry opens his eyes to the darkness lying over him like a bedsheet lies upon a corpse, leaving him feeling just as cold inside. He isn't sure he feels alive at all as he sits up, the soft silk fabric of his shirt grazing against his skin as he hunches his back, feeling the weight of life smothering his muscles.

"Open the windows" he mutters, sighing as they are parted to reveal the warm golden light of the afternoon sun.

He takes a deep breath, turning his head to find the bottle of sleeping pills still on his nightstand, exactly where he left it. He knows that taking them during the day to take a nap wasn't the brightest idea, how him waking up in the late afternoon can easily confirm.

He was just so tired. Now, though, his mind feels even more clouded, the ghost of the dreams he knows he had but cannot remember staring at him from a corner of his mind. He can almost see it weigh down on him.

He stands up, he knows it's late, but a quick look at his alarm clock confirms it's well past five in the afternoon. He's disappointed in himself for almost sleeping throughout the entire day, but he doesn't dwell on it for long before walking in the en-suite bathroom.

He doesn't shower, there's no time nor need, but he sprays some cold water on his face. "Wake the fuck up, Harry," he mumbles, staring at himself in the mirror.

Reality has always been subjective, to him. There is what is, and what he pretends isn't. He needs to pretend some things aren't real, that's the only way he'll be able to get by. In that moment, though, he's stuck in the realm of everything that he wishes wasn't.

That's what he gets for sleeping during the day.

His green eyes are exhausted, a reflection of the tiring weigh in his limbs. He looks like shit, and he knows it.

He drinks some water from the tap and exists the bathroom, shaking his head as he takes off the shirt he's wearing and throws it in a corner of the room, not even stopping to see where it lands.

He walks in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, from that floor he can see the skyline of his city, far away into the horizon, close enough to it to feel part of it but distant enough to remark his different status.

He isn't like them. He isn't necessarily better than them, but that doesn't mean that he isn't more powerful than them, cause he is, and that's all that matters.

He's never believed in the superiority of some qualities compared to others, nor in good nor bad. He can't be better than someone else, because nobody is good, and nobody is bad. He, however, can be more successful than others, more powerful, more skilled, and that's what he focuses on.

He learnt to hunt at a young age. That's what he does. Is there truly a difference between animals and people? He isn't so sure anymore.

He can see his reflection on the glass of the window, right next to the tall shape of a hotel, that he's pretty sure it's a disguise for a brothel in reality. He never bothered to check, though.

He looks like shit.

He can see his sulky mood is reflecting on his posture and the way he presents himself. He can do better than that, he knows that. He has to.

He's a hunter, and as such he has to behave in order to survive. His palace is a den of vipers, they'll feed off his every insecurity and feast over his body if he ever lets them. The only way to come up on top is to be the one holding the knife, he was taught so a long time ago.

He walks to the touch screen close to the wardrobe and removes the do not disturb option before taking off the suit pants he fell asleep in, leaving them in a puddle on the floor before stepping into the wardrobe.

His finger slowly grazes the multiple black suits in front of him, a mosaic of black and white in his peripheral. Seemingly all identical, each of them with small differences only a trained eye can see.

He settles for one that's similar to what he was wearing earlier that day and hangs it next to the door before taking a white dress shirt.

He puts it on quickly, checking himself out in the mirror as he does so to make sure there are no accidental creases on his clothes. He puts on a black tie and folds over the collar perfectly before taking the freshly ironed trousers and putting them on.

"Mr. Styles?"

He rolls his eyes when he hears the distinctive voice of his assistant from the other side of the door and walks out, turning his head to look at the touch screen.

"What is it?" He asks, the question coming out as a grumble, a little more aggressive than he intended.

"You asked me to remind you you're supposed to film today's message in thirty minutes."

Harry closes his eyes for a second, once again damning his choice to sleep during the day. It'd completely slipped from his mind. "Okay," he says, not admitting it, "get my notes from my office. I want everyone ready to go by the time I come down."

He takes the black jacket of the suit and puts it on as well, glancing at his reflection on the window to make sure he looks as perfect as always.

The sun is setting now, so half of his image is lost to the warm hue of the sunset coming from one side, but it's still enough for him to go by. He knows one hell of a night is waiting for him. He won't be able to sleep through it as he often does. That's the price he's paying for breaking the rules, though. He should've left the day to the day, and the night to the night. When the two get mixed, he has a hard time recognising what he should focus on and what he should try his hardest to ignore.

He puts on a pair of shoes and walks to the front door, putting in the code and opening it before walking out of his living quarters. He takes an extra second to make sure the door is locked before walking down the corridor, ignoring the way everyone he encounters either greets him with deference or tries to melt into the wall as he surpasses them.

Gone are the days in which he cared about how someone behaves in his presence, even though he can't deny he still finds it rather rewarding to be made aware of the effect he knows he has on people.

He walks to the lift at the end of the corridor and gets in, biting the inside of his cheek stressfully as the doors close in front of him.

The ride is over in just some seconds and he's quick to flee the moving device as soon as he's let free again. He hears the voices all around him quiet down as he walks to the office at the very end, watching everyone straighten their backs as soon as he enters the room.

A few instants later his assistant rushes inside, widening her eyes when she sees him. She looks down quickly and puts the paper sheets she brought with her on a lectern on the left side of the room before leaving again.

"Here, Mr. Styles."

He glances in the direction of the voice, discovering it's coming from a woman standing in a corner of the room with her hands on the back of a chair.

He walks to her and sits in his seat, staring at the skyline of his city through the window as she hides his dark eye bags with makeup, fidgeting a bit with her hands before daring to lift his chin and put lipstick on him. It's almost the same shade of his lips and the difference is minimal, but the devil's in the details and Harry knows every single one of them will contribute to making his performance flawless.

He stands up as soon as she's done and walks to the lectern, staring at the camera in front of him and waiting for the light to turn on.

The man standing behind him gives him a nod, and he clears his throat.

"Good evening..." he starts, frowning a bit when his voice dies in his throat and he's forced to lower his gaze to the papers in front of him.

"Let's do it again," the man states, and Harry looks up again.

"Good evening, it's Harry..." He clears his throat again and clenches his teeth before glancing down. The words keep slipping out of his mind. He doesn't know what's wrong with him, but he hates it.

"Let's take five?" The man asks him, but Harry shakes his head.

"One second," he mutters, going over his speech again. "Okay," he says when he's done, and the other gives him a nod.

"Three... two... one... go."

Harry looks up, staring right into the lens of the camera, his hand gripping the side of the lectern a bit harder than he would've liked. He takes a deep breath and then opens his mouth.

"Good evening, it's your president speaking," he says, the tone of his voice steady and clear. "Tonight it is my prerogative to inform you..."

His posture relaxes the more he speaks, the tension in the room is eased slightly and finally the words come to him with the usual ease. He slew the monster and it has now retreated in a corner of the room, waiting to get him on another day.

"... I can assure you that your safety will always be of central importance in our fight against the Revolution. Goodnight."

He silences himself and waits one more instant for the man to give him a nod before walking away from the lectern and towards the door, not bothering to interact with anyone.

A good performance is essential to maintain control, and he's glad he was able to deliver on that day as well, despite everything.

"Mr. Styles," his assistant calls after him all of a sudden, moving to stand in front of him when he doesn't stop walking. "Are you doing alright? Should I-"

Harry doesn't let her continue and sends her a sharp glare. "How's that any of your business?" He asks her, aggressively enough to make her retreat and apologise quickly.

He doesn't spare another look in her direction and leaves the room, walking to the lift speedily while trying to convince himself that he isn't running away.

He most definitely is, but he has no intention of dealing with that truth in that moment.

After some more tense instants the lift stops and he gets out, taking the first turn on the right and turning left not long after, walking past Evie's desk and entering his office.

He makes a beeline for the door on the right and enters his studio, closing the door behind himself.

The light turns on before he can take a single step into the room and he walks to the dark wooden table next to the electric fireplace, pouring the contents of the bottle of alcohol he left there earlier into a glass.

He sits on the dark red armchair and takes a sip, raising an eyebrow when he recognises the taste of vodka on his tongue. He finally sighs and leans his head against the back of the chair, putting his elbow on the armrest and raising the glass, observing the print of his lipstick on the crystal in the dangerous amber light of the fake fire.

He drinks slowly, feeling the alcohol make his mind clearer, paradoxically. He wishes he could hide in that room forever, but he knows he can't. He has things to do, decisions to make, places to be. He knows it's only his soul talking, anyway. His brain has other plans.

He stays in that room for about an hour.

When he gets out the sun is gone, and the sky has started to turn darker.

He walks into his office, sending a glance to the pile of papers on his desk. He doesn't have to go through them to know they're reports of everything that's going wrong in the country. He knows that if he had to go through them all he'd never end, so he doesn't bother.

There's a knock on the door, and he turns around just in time to see it open. He grimaces at the lack of manners of the newcomer, but he doesn't comment on it, not feeling in the right mindset to set matters straight in that moment.

The man greets him with a simple nod and Harry just stares at him, waiting for him to speak to find out what has made him bother him in such a way.

"There was another outage near Dacran last night, sir," the dark-haired man says, seeming to be a bit fidgety.

Harry raises an eyebrow. "How so?"

"The prices are too high, sir. They can't pay on time, so the power keeps going off."

"Have they paid?"

The man frowns. "Pardon?"

"I asked, have they paid?" Harry repeats his question.

"With a delay, yeah... but—"

Harry interrupts him before he can finish his sentence. "Then I don't see where the problem is. You're dismissed." He turns to look out of the glass wall again, the city is starting to turn on, bright neon lights everywhere.

"Sir-"

He looks at him from over his shoulder. "I said, you're dismissed," he states glacially, and the man can only nod and run out of the room.

Harry rolls his eyes at the man's behaviour, turning around and sitting at his desk. He goes through the folders on it quickly, putting on one side the ones that matter the most to him and ignoring the rest.

He opens the first drawer of the desk, looking for somewhere to put them, and pauses when he sees the folder hiding at the bottom of it.

For Emergencies.

He shakes his head and closes the drawer again quickly and opens the one under, dropping everything he doesn't need in it. He'll ask Evie to clear it out later.

He stands up again and walks to the glass, furrowing his eyebrows when he notices a black car entering the premises on the ground floor.

"Evie!" He calls, and she storms into the room.

"Yes, Mr. Styles?"

"Are we expecting someone?" He asks her, still staring at the car as it starts to round the building slowly, and she moves closer to see what he's talking about.

"Oh, it's just a new employee," she explains, "nothing you should worry about."

Harry gives her a short nod. "Okay. You're dismissed."

She nods and walks out, leaving him to stand in front of the window, looking at his shiny city.

• • •

About six hundred feet below, Alouette gets out of the car.

She feels lost and she doesn't like it. She keeps thinking someone will find out the truth in the second they look at her, which makes her so uneasy. She knows she has to get it together if she doesn't want to be discovered, but she can't help it. She isn't made for that kind of thing. She should've never agreed to it.

"Don't worry about it, Lark," Nathan says getting out of the car right after her, using her fake name as he walks around it to get to her side. "Just be quiet and let me speak."

Alouette nods, following him as he walks to a metal door that's some feet away from them. He puts his hand on it, hesitating a bit before turning to look at her.

"I have to park the car, so I'll introduce you to someone that can bring you upstairs and leave you with them. Just stay calm and don't act in a weird way and everything will be fine."

"Okay," she replies, nodding again to prove she understood, and he puts a code in, opening the door and walking in first, keeping it open for her to walk through.

She does, and frowns at what's around her.

It looks like they just stepped into some kind of garage, even though there are no cars in sight. Just a big, empty space, with a tall ceiling and no windows, the bright white fluorescent lights on the ceiling being the only source of illumination. Differently from the ones of the Revolution they don't falter, and shine threateningly above her head. She's never felt so at home but so far away from home at the same time.

"Right through here, Lark," Nathan tells her, his voice reverberating in the empty room, and she follows him to one side of the room.

One more code is put in before he opens the door in front of them, allowing her to walk in first. She tilts her head at the sight of the stairs and raises her gaze, discovering that they bring to the upper floor only.

"If you like these stairs, you'll find the next ones even more interesting," Nathan states, and she gives him a weird look before realising what he's referring to. "Unfortunately I won't be able to take you there myself, but they're a valid alternative to the lift, especially when it's late at night. They're on the other side of the building, I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding them."

Alouette nods, going up the stairs, shortly followed by the guard. He puts in one more code and opens the new door, pushing her forward gently.

She takes a step forward and freezes in her spot. It looks like she entered some kind of military base, or police station, she can't tell.

The place is highly impersonal and busy even at that time of the day, everyone is wearing similar clothes to Nathan's. In her black trousers and white dress shirt, she sticks out, and it's made evident by the way everyone is looking at her. She feels like she did something wrong, but she knows she has to ignore what her mind is telling her and act like she has nothing to hide if she wants the plan to work.

Nathan takes her into a corridor on the right and knocks on the first door before opening it quickly. "Lark Ewing is here, sir."

The man sitting behind the desk gives him a nod, closing a tab on his computer and standing up. "Thank you, Michels. I'll take it from here."

Nathan sends Alouette a quick glance and offers her a little smile before walking out of the room, leaving her alone with the unknown man.

"Lark, is it?" He asks her, rounding the desk. "If you'll be so kind and show me a document..."

"Sure," Alouette replies, taking her wallet from the pocket of her trousers and extracts the ID she's been given from it, handing it to the other man and praying it's a good copy.

He checks if it's real, giving her a little nod of approval when it passes the test. "I hadn't seen a plastic identity card in a while," he comments, "they were the best, if I have to be honest, even if sometimes they got lost."

She gives him a nod, taking it back from him and putting it back in her wallet. She can't help but be glad that the ID worked, even though the format is a bit old.

"Follow me."

The man walks out of the office and she follows him to the end of the corridor and up another set of stairs.

The other floor is similar to the previous one, and she tries her best not to look around too much before they're going up another set of stairs, on the other side of the building.

They stop in front of a door and he puts in a code, opening it and allowing her to walk in first.

They're in a large corridor, a front desk in the middle of it. There's a man sitting behind it wearing a white shirt and a tie, busy reading something under the table, and he looks up in the instant the door closes.

"What can I do to help you?"

"Inform Ms. Fleming that Ms. Ewing has arrived, please," the man says, and the other nods.

"Right away." He types something down, waiting a few instants before looking up again. "She'll be right down."

"I'll leave you here then, don't wander," the man tells her, walking back out of the corridor as soon as he finishes speaking.

Alouette bites her lower lip nervously, crossing her arms over her chest, instantly feeling a chill run down her spine when she realises she just walked in the wolf's den. She could be back at the Revolution, about to go to dinner with her sister and Elijah, but there she is, far away from there, only some floors away from Harry Styles himself.

The thought of being in his same building makes her want to puke.

She misses home already.

All of a sudden the doors of the lift on the other side of the corridor open and a blonde woman walks out, her hair pinned back behind her head and a grey pencil skirt wrapped tight around her waist.

"Hello, I'm Evelyn Fleming," she states as she comes towards her, "but you can call me Evie."

Thank you so much for the 10k on Interlude! It means the world to me. I hope you enjoyed this chapter x
Miki