Alouette walks in the video room feeling more nervous than she normally would.

She knows the instant Harry's eyes land on her. The temperature in the room changes, and she's pervaded by the daunting sensation of being stared at. A quick look at the space around her confirms what she's already aware of, his green eyes are indeed burning into hers from the other side of the room.

There's a woman she's seen a couple of times before around him, fixing his already perfect hair, stopping every once in a while to check him out and make sure she's doing a good job.

He barely pays attention to the words that leave her mouth, too busy playing with one of the rings on his fingers to consider listening to her. It's composed by a jadeite encased in a chiselled silver frame, Alouette has already seen it before. It's the only one he's always wearing, the one he never swaps with another. He's always worn it in his videos, in his office, even the night before when he put his hand on her thigh. She wonders if it holds a special meaning for him, or if he's simply fond of it.

Harry glances at her and signals her to come closer with a finger, and she does even though she can't shake away the feeling that's a bad idea.

She hasn't seen him ever since the night before, when he stormed out of her bedroom after kissing her. Differently from her, he seems to be relaxed, his behaviour normal, as if nothing happened at all between them. At least one of them can act nonchalantly. The memory of the night before has kept her up for the entire night— from him throwing that knife during the celebration to the kiss they'd shared afterwards.

A part of her is terrified he'll find out the truth about her and kill her, and the other can't stop thinking of the way his hands felt on her body. She's living a contradiction and doesn't know what to do, she hadn't expected something like that to happen. The Revolution hasn't prepared her for that. In their defence, though, they did tell her to stay away from the president, and she couldn't even do that. She knows she hasn't been behaving professionally, but she doesn't mind. After all, if she can manage to make him fall for her it'll be much easier to complete her mission.

The woman walks away, and even though they're in a room full of people, she feels like she's alone with just him.

"Hello, little bird." His cool greeting sends a shiver down her spine.

"Good afternoon, Harry."

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," he states, narrowing his eyes, and she takes a step closer to him. He doesn't stand up from the chair or make a move. His green eyes are focused on her, a calm but attentive look in them that deeply unsettles her. He always looks at her like that, as if he wants to uncover all her secrets with a simple gaze. And his eyes are so clear, so dark and deep that she feels like he could indeed read the words etched in her soul simply by looking at her.

"I go where I'm needed," she replies quietly, taking the lipstick the woman has left behind and opening it. The colour is just a little darker than Harry's mouth, the shade of the heart of a hibiscus, and she raises his chin.

His heart-shaped lips part as she puts on the lipstick, and she focuses on his mouth to escape his stare. He looks at her as if he's trying to tell her to look back at him with his mind, and she grips the tube harder to keep her hand from shaking.

"Done," she states when she's finished and stands up straighter again, giving in and looking at him.

He's about to say something, but is interrupted by someone coming closer to them.

"Are you ready to go, sir?"

Alouette glances at the newcomer, raising an eyebrow when she recognises Mia. She doesn't know if she's annoyed with her for interrupting their conversation, or if she's glad she came around for the same reason.

"I am." Harry stands up and fixes his black jacket so that it's creaseless. Alouette thinks she'll never get used to the way he manages to look so perfect, as if he isn't a real person at all. It's freaky how much he values his looks, as if every single detail is a fundamental part of his show.

He sends her another unreadable glance and walks to the other side of the room with Mia, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She barely listens to him when he starts talking, knowing that everything he says is a lie or an oddly-worded statement to bring people to his side. She doesn't know what's faker, if his twisted, made up perfection or the way he presents himself as if he was a good person. He's adamant in trying to make people believe he's on their side even though his actions prove otherwise, and that single quality makes him much more dangerous than his father. He convinces the majority and suppressed the opposition, there's no denying he knows how to work a room in his favour— and a country, too. She fears that, if he's given enough time to master every part of his job, he'll be unstoppable.

Someone puts a hand on her arm and she turns to them quickly, frowning when she doesn't recognise the man that's interrupting her.

"A letter has arrived for you at the lower floors, it's essential you get it immediately."

She opens her mouth to complain, but then reads between the lines and nods. "I'll be there right away."

The man walks away, and after a couple of minutes, when she's sure Harry is too busy lying to pay attention to what she's doing, she gets out of the room as well.

It doesn't take her long to make her way downstairs since she doesn't have to hide thanks to the excuse she was given, and she just has to make sure nobody is looking before sliding into the emergency stairwell.

As she expected, Nathan is standing there, a serious look on his face.

"It's been a week. Talk," he says.

"I don't think we have enough time for me to tell you everything that has happened over the past week," she replies defensively, afraid that he could read what happened on her face if she had to do that.

He sighs. "First things first, what happened at the celebration? We got a body to get rid of from the upper floors yesterday night."

"The man threatened the president with a gun, so he stabbed him." More like flung a knife in his direction, she thinks, but she doesn't dare to say it. Part of her still believes that moment didn't truly take place, that absurd it is to process.

Nathan nods. "Now, your family is planning the reunion," he says, hiding the true meaning of the sentence behind harmless words. "They want to know if you need more time, and they also specify it's the last time you can ask for it."

Alouette thinks about it attentively. Does she truly need more time? She'd like to say yes just in case, but she knows that the longer she stays there, the higher the chances of her being discovered will be. Despite everything, she's fine with what she has. "I don't." It sounds definitive, but it's exciting all the same. Just like that, she'll be home in three weeks. She can't wait to see Amina again, and Elijah too. She hopes he'll let her explain, that he'll know she was just doing her job.

"Are you at a good point?" He doesn't need to specify for her to know what he means.

"I'm at a very good point," Alouette replies, "I believe it won't be an issue to do what I came here for."

"That's good to hear," Nathan says. "Now, get a permission to go out in the city for three days from now. There's a task I need you to help me with."

The request is a bit uncommon coming from him, but she nods anyway. "I will. I have to go back now, or they'll notice I'm gone."

"Go out first," Nathan says, pointing to the door, and Alouette gives him a grateful smile before sliding out of the stairwell.

She makes her way upstairs and goes back into the video room, letting out a relieved sigh when she discovers Harry is still shooting.

Five more minutes go by, and then he's finally done. She can feel the tension dissipating from the room in the moment they wrap it up, and she stands up.

She walks out before he can not to be stuck with him, unable to push away the feeling that maybe getting so close to him wasn't her best idea. She shouldn't have let him kiss her. It surely gives her a great advantage at the moment, but it also makes her more vulnerable. He's bad news, and playing with him like that could endanger her mission.

A hand takes her wrist and she's pulled into an empty room. She tries to turn around fast, ready to fight, but a finger rests on her lips.

"Hush," a deep voice whispers next to her ear, and she stills in the moment she realises none other than Harry is standing behind her. His arm is wrapped around her waist to keep her close to his body, and even though she can barely see anything, she can feel his presence as if it was a spark of electricity.

His mouth grazes the shell of her ear, and Alouette feels goosebumps rise on her body. Her resolution crumbles into nothing and the realisation that that man will be the end of her takes its place, and it makes her want to laugh. It's hilarious to think that after everything she went through it'll be him, a boy who likes to play a president so exquisitely handsome yet absolutely deranged, to take her down.

She leans into him, and if he finds her pathetic he doesn't let it show. Harry brushes her hair to the side, his cold fingers grazing her neck, and turns her body around.

"I missed you," he murmurs, hovering over her mouth before pressing his lips to hers, and her heart jolts in her chest.

She pulls him closer to her all the same, standing on her tiptoes to be at his same height, and he hums into the kiss.

If the kiss from the night before was euphoric and incandescent, this one strikes her with its untapped energy. It paralyses her and makes her cling to him, and he grasps her thigh and encourages her to wrap her leg around his body. The night before her mind was clouded, hazed by the wine and the lingering happiness of the celebration, but now it's clear, sharp, and it shocks her to realise how intensely she truly wants him to kiss her.

She wants his touch on her body, she wants that feverish excitement that pervades her, the thrill of doing something she shouldn't be doing. She relishes in it like a sinner burning in the fire of the deepest pits of hell, knowing it'll be her destruction but dawdling in the elation all the same. She cannot be saved.

If only he knew who she truly is, he'd destroy her existence and laugh at her despair but she isn't scared, despite knowing how foolish it is of her not to be. It's hard to believe he'd raise a finger against her while his hands are tentatively sliding up her shirt.

"Did you miss me as well?" He asks, breathless and excited, his eyes shining and his lipstick smudged. "Did you wait for me yesterday night?" There's a little frown creasing his dark eyebrows, and truly, she would've never thought the word cute could be ever applied to him— until now, that is.

The truth is, she waited for him and hated herself for it. She may be twenty-three, but she was as electrified as a teenager on her first date, and she knows that if she spends too long thinking about it, she'll inevitably end up being very embarrassed. She should lie to him, tell him that he didn't even cross her mind. But a sudden thought comes to her, a very dangerous one.

She should finish what she started. If there's one thing she understood about Harry, it's that he's rather closed off, which means he doesn't get close to others easily. Even though it was fun to openly play with him, she can't do that forever, or else she'll risk him putting distance between them. She laid her trap and he walked right into it, now it's time for her to make it snap.

"I waited for you to come back and finish what you started until the dead of night," she whispers into his ear. "I was disappointed when you didn't come back. I think you would've liked my lingerie."

He inhales sharply. "How may I make it up to you?"

She shrugs, drawing a line up his neck with her nail, enjoying the way his breathing pattern changes. "Any suggestions?"

"Plenty." He brings his mouth to hers again, but then decides not to kiss her. "Most of them I'm certain you wouldn't like."

"That's intriguing, sir."

He narrows his eyes at her. "You have no idea of the things you do to me, Lark," he says, "that's a dangerous game to be playing."

Alouette tilts her head. "Doesn't danger make it even more exciting?"

Harry lets out a dark chuckle. "You're teasing me, now. Fine. If that's the path you want this to take, I'll let you walk it."

He takes a step back and opens the door, walking out in the brightly-enlightened corridor. His clothes are mussed and so are his brunette curls, but he makes no effort to fix his appearance. He looks like he just ravaged someone in a dark room, but he doesn't care. He knows nobody will dare to tell him one damn thing. After all, he makes the rules. Everyone else simply has to follow them.

She gets out as well and rushes after him as he walks back to his office, not slowing his step to let her catch up to him. He reaches his office and walks inside, so Alouette rounds her own desk, still dazed by the kiss, forcing herself to go back to reality and stop acting like an idiot.

She takes the folder she finds on it, curious to find out what it is, but before she can start reading it she feels someone's touch on her hips.

"Tell me, Lark," Harry murmurs in her ear, "do you enjoy fucking with my brain?"

She widens her eyes, not having expected him to go to her again, but pushes her body back towards his anyway. "Maybe," is her whispered reply.

He chuckles and turns her around, but before he can do anything Evie walks in.

"The report you requested is here, Mr. Styles."

Alouette feels her cheeks get hotter as she takes in how close Harry and her are standing, but the assistant doesn't seem to mind. She wonders how many times she's been in that situation with Harry and someone else, and the thought leaves a sour taste in her mouth.

Harry doesn't move away from her nor looks at Evie, seeming too focused on grazing the hot skin of her neck with his fingers. His rings are cold, and Alouette shivers. She's leaning against her desk, her head tilted to the side and her gaze cast to the ground, and he's standing right in front of her, one hand on the wooden surface and the other on her body. They're more than respectably close to one another, but he doesn't seem to care.

"Is there anything unexpected in it?" He asks his assistant, cupping Alouette's cheek and brushing her lips with his thumb pensively. She doesn't want if she wants to cut off his hand due to the embarrassment or feel his touch on her forever.

"I'd say no, sir."

He hums. "Leave it on my desk, and then you can go."

"You have a meeting in five minutes, sir," Evie tells him, reading between the lines. "It's a Revolution meeting, you planned it last week. You should get there before it starts."

Harry seems to be slightly annoyed. "It starts when I say it starts, Evie. You'd better remember it."

"Of course, sir," she says apologetically, giving him a little nod before walking away.

Harry sighs. "It was nice to catch up with you, Lark." The irony in his voice is so heavy she could drown in it. "I'll see you later, and maybe I'll show you how I have fun then."

He leaves but she doesn't move from her desk, torn between hating herself for giving in so easily and being proud of herself for having played him so well.

Twenty days left, and she's closer to success than ever before.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. x
Miki