Pure Ones || H.S

4

Belle walked in through the back door into her kitchen only to see her parents sitting while eating their breakfast. Her mother was cooking pancakes and her father on the corner looking through a newspaper. She quietly rolled her eyes at him.

"Belle?" Ellie, Belle's mother frowned. "I thought you were in your bed, sleeping,"

"Sorry, mom. I was out early because I was preparing something for Uncle Thomas," she lied smoothly. Even if she was so innocent, she knew how to lie. Her innocent face always covered her wrongdoings. It was in fact a gift, as she thought but for now, the innocent face is all she could rely on after what had happened.

"Oh, Belle. You have to lie back a little, don't ya think so?" Ellie laughed. "You sure do care about your uncle. Come, sit and have breakfast," she patted to the seat next to her, her father still unamused to what was happening.

And one lies made her force to leap on the next victim, to lie against her crime.

What an unholy thing I am doing.

.

"f**k," Harry cursed. He walked down to the now-ruined white wooden fence in his backyard. "f*****g kids," he muttered under his breath angrily.

Harry took his tool kit, and had his whole afternoon finished to replace his fence. Suddenly, a little voice crept to his busy head. A little voice which said the simplest word yet it came loud like a harmonic music to his ears.

His Belle, standing five feet away, her fragrance glowing and roaming into his skin, the beautiful feeling he always had when she's with him. Her pure, innocent aura reflecting like angel falling from heaven.

His angel.

My angel.

"Mr. Harry," she squeaked. "I'm sorry that I didn't greeted earlier," Harry faced her; she was in a pink dress, a red ribbon around her waist which complimented her young curves. "The door was open,"

"Belle, what are you doing here?" From crouching, Harry stood up. He was way taller so when she was so small ahead of him, he felt manly and he knew she was feeling intimidated. Just what he always wanted.

"I-I just wanted to ask," she fiddled with her thumbs, looking down at her full covered feet. "What do you mean by 'taking care of it'?" She asked, now looking into his eyes but she was too shy so she looked back at her feet again, somewhere else but not his gaze.

She was too scared of him; he was a lonely man, mysterious even. She never knew how he possibly was; he was a man who could control everything, and now her crime. He was a bossy man, so full of control and Belle was scared of that.

Harry took a step forward. Belle was scared, she didn't know what was about to happen. She tightly closed her eyes, her hands involuntarily grasping her skirt.

But what she didn't expect was that Harry grasped her chin, his other hand holding onto her jaw. Belle slowly looked at him, his eyes were dark and it held so many emotions she just can't comprehend. He looked somehow sad.

"Don't be scared of me," he said in a low voice. "At least, not now,"

Belle slowly nods her head, biting her lips in the process. Harry wants her so badly, but he took control of himself before he hurts her.

He let's go of her, shoving his hand in his pocket before anything goes wrong the minute more he touches her. "Now, I've prepared some tea so let's talk while we drink,"

Harry led Belle into his kitchen, she realized that almost every window in his house were wide open, so his whole room were so bright and cheery inside. But even with it's brightness, Belle could feel his sadness, his loneliness.

She didn't know Harry personally, she didn't know if he was married, if he was a husband and yet a father. She didn't know anything about him but she knew that he had lost someone so important, even when there was no single photo being framed on the wall, or even on the tables.

Belle sat while Harry poured the hot tea into the small cup in front of her, the hot steam brushing her face and she smelt the sweet lemon tea through her nose.

Harry loved the smell of lemon tea, but he loved her fragrance even more. Her hair was radiating her sweet perfume, so sweet and delicious.

Belle, you don't know how hard it is to control myself from you.

"Mr. Harry," she suddenly stopped. "Your thumb—it's bleeding," she gasps. "It looks painful,"

Harry let go of the tea pot, looking at his hand and his thumb, his palm flowing deep red blood. And for a while, he adored it.

"D-Do you want me to take care of it?" She stuttered. She didn't mean anything, and she certainly didn't know how to aid injured people but she only said it out of politeness—and because she was scared of him.

Harry kept silent, looking at his thumb, slightly fractured, probably from the nails and hammers but he just didn't realize. He was too far off his daydream of Belle to recognize the lightning hot pain, ringing through his veins.

"I-I usually suck the blood until it's all fine," she said absent-mindedly. Her anxiousness had led her to speak actual ridiculousness. She didn't know what she was talking about, and she certainly didn't want Harry to think of her wrongly. In fact, she had to gain his trust to keep her 'secret' quiet.

Harry laughed, looking at his darling in front if him, so beautiful and angelic, flushing with her mind as messy as his yard. Her eyes were wide, lips slightly apart with her flesh red like rose petals, and her chest, which kept rising from her frantic breathing. Her eyes fluttered.

She looks so innocent, yet so fuckable.

"You suck your blood?" He silently laughed.

She bit her lip and nod her head. She was embarrassed. She hated when people thought of her to be so childish, when she actually wasn't, some of the time.

"Then, try suck mine," Harry's voice was low and husky, his eyes dark and greedy, his body ready to devour her but she didn't realize, she was too busy looking away, with a tint of red on her already rosy cheek.

She didn't knew why he was asking for that, she didn't thought of it as 'inappropriate'. All she could think of the possibility of her crime and the knowledge of Harry of it. She fluttered her eyes, holding onto his hand and sucked on his thumb.

His blood was way more metallic than hers, his was strong and felt different on her tongue. The blood flew into and through her throat, which felt disgustingly wonderful. She accidentally moaned and Harry caught her soft voice. He groaned and pulled his thumbs away and replaced it with his forefinger.

"Suck," his voice was harsh, and Belle was getting even more scared. He was bossier and she was feeling so vulnerable. Who knows what he'll do and Belle wasn't ready for that. She thought the best thing to do is to obey, like a hopeless puppy on a leash.

She sucked on his finger, the saltiness around him, his sweat, the blood stain, she cleaned it with her saliva. Harry pushed his finger deeper into her throat until she gagged tremendously. She forced his hands away as she coughed and felt like her heart was exploding.

Harry was frustrated but at the same time, he was grateful. Who knows what he'll do if she didn't had stopped him.