In the next coming days, I didn't see much of Harry. We were both busy, me with my classes and him with teaching them. Even though I had minded professor Havers' interruption, he hadn't been wrong about his statement.

– The Devon scholarship did demand a certain amount of academic achievement, and if you didn't deliver, you stood to lose said scholarship.

And unfortunately, due to the recent disturbances in schedule and personal life, I had fallen quite a bit behind, leaving me with a workload big enough to bury me in a shallow grave. It was this very situation that kept me stuck in the library over the next following days, and probably what kept me out of Harry's reach.

But other than his missing appearance, there was another person I couldn't help but notice hadn't shown her face around me lately.

Catarina.

After our first and last conversation, I hadn't seen even as much as her shadow in my vicinity. I doubted it had much to do with our heart-to-heart, but rather more to do with the fact that Harry had probably gotten hold of her and warned her to stay away from me. This was only guesswork, though.

Nevertheless, I was happy about the solitude, whatever reason had caused it. Not seeing Harry or Catarina and burying myself in work had helped me clear my head a bit, my head that always seemed a bit too full lately. For once, I could actually focus on my work and catch up on my studies without concerning myself with schemes and manipulative people.

Even if the biggest mystery still remained unsolved. Why was Harry here?

I had put that on the shelf momentarily. At least for now, until I could get my grades back up and my attendance back to full. I knew at some point, I was going to try and ask him again, because I knew there was still something he was holding back. A part of the truth he hadn't admitted yet, and it was that bit that was driving me crazy.

But as it turned out, his brother wasn't the only one skilled at lying. Seemed I had been lied to twice over the course of the summer, and frankly, I didn't know how to feel about it. Like Harry had said, it hadn't really been any of my business, had it?

So why did I still somehow feel... cheated?

Sighing, I looked into my books and felt like my brain was about to explode. I had been in the library for four hours now, reading, writing and studying up on my latest assignments and classes. I was still a fair way from being caught up, but at least now I wasn't that far behind. Which was always something. But the second it seemed like I was getting closer, new reading material and assignments piled on top and it was back to square one.

– Whoever said college was a fun time clearly had been lying, too.

Packing up my books and papers, I trudged out of the library and began making my way back to my dorm. It was a cold evening, my breath turning white in the frosty air as I walked the pavements of campus. The walk from the library to the dorms took about 15 minutes, but I didn't mind it. It felt good stretching my legs after so many hours being bent over a table. I wondered if that was why Harry had installed an indoor pool in his house.

My phone suddenly buzzed in my pocket. I had put it on vibrate whilst in the library, but now that it buzzed in my pocket, I pulled it out and looked at the caller ID.

Oh.

Gulping down a small lump, I took a deep breath, but then pressed answer. "Hi, mom."

"Cassy, sweetheart! How are you, dear? It's been too long."

I breathed a sigh of relief the instant I heard her voice. Oh, thank God. She was on her meds and appeared to be in a good mood. You could always tell on her voice.

"I'm fine," I replied, perking my own voice up a bit. "And I'm sorry for not calling sooner. I've been swamped with classes and assignments."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm just so glad to hear your voice," She chided, sounding genuinely happy. She had to have been on her meds for a good while then.

"How are you?" I asked nervously. That was always a loaded question. "You sound... good?"

"I am! I'm doing good, sweetheart. I was just calling because... well, I was just thinking about your birthday, actually."

I stopped in my tracks. Actually stopped, and stared ahead with uncertainty. "My... birthday?"

"Yes! It's in a few weeks, and I was thinking we should do something special. It's been a while since we did something, just the two of us." My mom cooed sweetly.

"Really?" I swallowed a lump. My heart stuttered in my chest, not sure how to feel about this. I wanted to be excited that she wanted to spend time with me, but I had been burnt before.

"Yes! You know, I was thinking we could do a spa day. I have that friend who works at that spa, and she owes me a favor. How about I book us in on your birthday, and we can spend the whole day getting oiled up and massaged whilst sipping champagne? Would you like that?"

My heart soared at the idea and my stiff muscles screamed that they would love a spa day. It sounded heavenly, especially after the emotional mayhem I had been through these last couple of weeks. "That sounds... amazing. I'd love that," I spoke into the phone with a genuine little smile. "Thanks, mom."

"Oh, don't thank me! It's your birthday, honey, we should celebrate it," Mom crooned back. "I'll make the appointment, you just worry about taking the train back and packing what you need. Are you eating enough? Sleeping plenty?"

"Yes, mom," I assured. "I'm fine, I promise."

"Well... alright then. I'll let you get back to it. I'll see you in a few weeks, darling! Don't forget to pack warm socks, we still don't have heating at home."

"I know," I cajoled. "I'll see you then, mom. Bye!"

"Bye. I love you, sweetheart. Take care of yourself."

As I always have. "I love you too," I whispered back, hanging up after I heard the line go dead.

Staring at my phone for a moment, I then stuffed it back into my pocket and continued walking back to my dorm. My mind now swirled around an entirely new concern, and my heart beat with uncertainty in my chest as I thought it over.

Since last summer, mom my had—predictably enough—lost another boyfriend and gone down a rabbit hole of being off-meds and hysterical. It happened not long after I departed from Harry's, leaving me to start the semester by taking a week off to head home and deal with my mom.

Now though, a few months later, she was doing better. As always, she bounded back the second she began to take her meds regularly. She became a person you could speak to, even sometimes reason with. I suspected already back then, at Harry's when she showed up, she had been skipping her meds and neglecting her doctorly-recommended routines. Now, though, she appeared to be back on track.

My birthday was end-October. It was extra convenient this year because it fell on a weekend. That allowed me to easily take the train home without missing any more classes and spending the full day with my mom.

And still, my heart and gut told me to not get my hopes too high. After all, there was still weeks until the day hit.

Plenty of time for disaster to hit.

Sighing, I decided to let go of that worry as well. Adding it to the pile of things I shouldn't be thinking about, I continued my cold walk back to my dorm whilst trying to decide on dinner.

~~~

I woke up groggily on a regular Wednesday morning. I had classes in a few hours, and according to the light taps on my window, it was raining outside, making it a dreary morning.

– But I was rather more interested in the light taps on my door that had awoken me.

I rubbed my eyes and slowly sat up as I saw the door to my dorm go. At first I thought it was my roommate, since I didn't remember her stumbling home in the middle of the night. She might've crashed at someone else's house and only made it home now.

But it wasn't my roommate walking in through the door.

It was Harry.

My eyes widened the second his large frame filled out the door and came inside, laying eyes on me. I stared, wide-eyed, as he silently closed the door behind him and then pocketed his hands into his trousers. Today, he wore a dark blue suit with suede elbow patches on the jacket. His hair was combed as usual, and his tie was tied neatly at his throat. He looked on his way to class himself, so why was he here instead?

"H-Harry," I stuttered out surprised, clearing my throat to rid it of morning raspiness.

"Cassandra," He replied, slowly coming closer towards my bed. "I hope you don't mind me stopping by. I checked your schedule, you're not due for class for another few hours. I promise I won't take too much of your time."

"It's fine," I assured, sitting up a bit better in my bed, running a quick a hand through my hair to flatten my morning hair. "Uh, I'm just... a little surprised to see you here. Although I suppose it's not the first time you've been inside my bedroom."

Harry's lips twitched at my joke, before he carefully came closer, taking a seat at the foot of my bed. I got a strange sense of dejavu, but then maybe that was the exact purpose. "I figured we should finish our last conversation in a more... private setting," He offered, casting a short glance at my messy dorm room. "Less chance of interruptions."

"Right," I said, wrapping the duvet around my bottoms half as I crossed my legs below the covers. "So... are you finally going to answer my question?"

"Why I changed my mind about you?" Harry reiterated our last conversation from days ago. I nodded back. "The answer is, I didn't."

I slowly frowned. "You... didn't? But then why... I mean, you said you had no interest in sleeping with me—"

"And I hadn't."

"But you still did," I reminded him. "Several times, as you said it yourself."

The corner of his mouth lifted a little. He had always loved my smart mouth, but today wasn't the time for that. "Yes, so I did."

"So explain," I said, leaning back on the palms of my hands.

Harry took a long moment to simply think, or rather, to choose his words with care. Finally, he pinched the bridge of his nose and stood up, pacing a small path in my tiny dorm. Then, he stopped up, looking out of the window.

"You said you met Catarina," He then surprised me by starting. "You said that you and her spoke."

"Yes?" I questioned.

"In that case, you undoubtedly noticed several similarities between you two."

I was obliged to simply frown again. "Similarities how?"

"Your appearance." Was his short answer. He kept staring out the window, watching the rain beat against the glass as he spoke. "Both brunette, both blue eyes. Both blessed by the graces of your gender."

Translation; both hot. "I wouldn't put myself in the same category as her," I said, remembering my first impression of Catarina; Her supermodel looks and naturally beautiful body. While I had always considered myself good-looking, I was nowhere near her status of beauty. At least not if going by societal standards.

"Catarina likes to hide behind expensive clothes and jewelry, but the fact of the matter is, you both share similar features," Harry stated with an air of finality.

"Okaaay..." I relented, not sure where he wanted to go with this.

"The reason I'm making this point is so you know why my brother chose you."

My mouth fell open. Oh. So that's the point he was trying to make? My mouth suddenly soured. "So... you're saying the only reason you changed your mind was because... I looked like her?" God, I suddenly didn't want to continue this subject at all.

"No. You're jumping to conclusions," Harry dismissed my accusation with a firm, but calm voice. "My brother chose you because he thought I loved Catarina. Any woman with her similar appearance, to his logic, would surely cause me to fall more easily for his scam. He thought, mistakenly, like you did, that my attraction lies in the physical, as most do."

"But... you're not attracted to physical beauty," I remembered, suddenly getting overwhelmed by a memory that made my skin flush with warmth. He was only attracted to the mind, except for...

'A woman, in her purest form.'

Harry now slowly turned and looked my way. His eyes pierced mine for a moment, and from the way the amber in his irises darkened, I knew we were thinking about the same thing. It wasn't long until his gaze clipped away, however, and he slowly started walking back instead, taking a seat at the foot of my bed again. "My brother thought that by finding someone that looked like my last interest, I would surely fall for her as well. But as usual, he got it all wrong."

I waited, because like the last time we had a sit down, I knew that even though the road was long, he would eventually make his point.

"I never loved Catarina. It was true, I had some aspect of feelings for her, but never beyond the initial attraction to her mind and the way she worked. Her physical appearance never played any role in my attraction to her, therefore it never played a role in my attraction to yours."

"So... what are you saying?" I finally asked, trying to keep up in this deciphering of his reasoning.

Harry met my gaze again. He watched me for a long moment, those amber wells dwelling on my face, before he sighed and stood up again.

"I never changed my mind about you," He then finally spoke, "because my mind was already made up from our very first conversation."

"Which was?"

"I was attracted to you. Not physically, but—"

"But you liked me," I finished bluntly. Liked my mind, to be more exact.

Harry's lips twitched ever so slightly as he looked at his shoes and seemed to be caught in a memory. Then, lifting his eyes and looking at me again, he sobered. "I liked our banter. I liked the way you challenged me. Much in the way Catarina challenged me. In that way, you shared another similarity."

I still didn't love being compared to her, but I stayed silent and instead pursed my lips. "So... spell it out for me, then. You said you didn't change your mind about me, but you also just confessed to being attracted to me. So—"

"So I didn't change my mind about you because," Harry released a breath, but then straightened out. "From the moment of our first conversation, I knew there was attraction. And why it also never could be."

Now I was lost. Goddamn it, it was always like this, talking to him, feeling like you were having five different conversations all at once. Harry was ahead of me and I still couldn't see his point.

"Harry, please," I sighed, getting impatient. "Cut to the chase, I'm dying here."

He finally sighed hard and stared at the floor, that muscle in his jaw working. "I couldn't touch you."

I stared for a moment, but then frowned. "What?"

"Or rather, I shouldn't," He corrected himself.  "It was wrong at the time, and I stand by it. That'll never change."

"What was wrong?" I now said, brushing the covers off and pushing my legs out over the edge as I scrunched my face in confusion. "You sleeping with me?"

"Me being attracted to you. Wanting you."

I paused. That was the first time he had openly confessed to wanting me. Not just being attracted to me—actually wanting me. "You... wanted me?"

"Yes," He replied firmly, his eyes piercing mine.

I tried to make that make sense. "You never seemed like you wanted me. I mean, you did everything to push me away," I narrated, frowning deeper at this. Harry sighed, but I ignored it. "Because... what? Because you say it was wrong?"

"It was," He insisted.

"Why?" I insisted.

"Cassandra..." He closed his eyes for a moment, as if frustrated by the fact that I still didn't get it. "You are young, you are—"

"Don't tell me it's my age," I cut in, standing up abruptly and scoffing outrageously. "You once told me it had nothing to do with it and that it didn't bother you. Unless that was a lie as well?" Exactly how many times had he lied to me during the course of our summer?

"Not in that context, but in the whole of it," Harry dismissed, gritting his teeth, clearly getting frustrated with the way the conversation had turned.

"In the whole of what?!" I therefore shouted, just about done with his runaround. "Explain it to me simply, Harry! Jesus! You wanted me, but you couldn't touch me? Why?"

"Because of what my brother did to you," He finally voiced, harshly.

I fell mute. By the look on his face, I saw anger and regret, but none of it was directed at me. It was as if he was angry with... himself?

"What... what do you mean?" I whispered, slowly slumping back down on my bed when I sensed the room shift again.

Harry pressed his lips together, but then slowly turned around and resumed staring out of the window. After another moment, he finally spoke. "You were alone with me. In my house. I could never take advantage of that situation, Cassandra. Not the same way my brother took advantage of your situation."

"You didn't..." I murmured, frowning even deeper. "Your brother didn't—"

"But he did," Harry cut me off, now turning and looking at me. "You don't understand." He shook his head with a pull of disgust on his lip. "My brother... finds people and uses their absolute deepest desires against them and turns them desperate, all for a bit of cash. You wanted to go to school, and my brother gave you exactly the road you needed. Even if the means were repugnant to get you there."

"I knew it was bad," I confessed. "But at the time, I—"

"At the time, you were a barely legal 18 year old with your whole future ahead of you," Harry cut me off again with a serious scowl. "And my brother found you and made you believe the only way forward was to sleep with a stranger and have his baby. On top of that, he also chose you for the sole reason that you looked like a former love interest to me. He reduced you to a type, made you into an object. He all but prostituted you, Cassandra. You were young and innocent, and he prostituted you to me, all for his own selfish sake."

My mouth fell open at his harsh words. I suddenly saw the way Richard had fooled me in a whole new light. Saw the true extend of his malicious scam. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen all of this before. Then again, I hadn't had all the facts, but Harry made me see it all so clearly. Made me see exactly what Richard had reduced me to by fooling me to say yes.

All for a little money.

"And that's why I couldn't touch you," Harry voice now broke through quietly. "You didn't deserve my brother's treatment, and you certainly didn't deserve my lust, given what you were there for. I was ashamed that I even wanted you, so I distanced myself. I tried to respect your worth and your dignity, because I didn't want to do to you exactly what my brother had wanted for you. I couldn't be selfish like that."

Oh God.

My eyes welled up as I looked up at Harry. He looked back at me softly as I took it all in, realizing what I never even thought to consider...

I had never stopped to consider his side of the story. Or at least not the full picture of it. How things had been for Harry, how much responsibility had weighed on his shoulders, how much guilt. His brother had put me in his vicinity to prostitute me to him, and Harry was enough of a gentleman never to take advantage of that situation. So when he had felt a natural attraction towards me, he had fought it, even if it physically pained him to do so...

- And there I had been, all but grinding against him, shoving my tits in his face, teasing him with my nakedness and flirtatious lines.

I had practically tortured the poor man.

"God," I whispered, cupping my face. "I didn't know..."

"You were never meant to," Harry softly answered. "That was the design my brother made."

I was never meant to know exactly how much advantage was to be taken of me.

Nor how much Harry fought to keep me safe from it all.

"You really are too good, you know that?" I whispered, fighting a smile on my lips as I leaned closer to him.

"I'm not," He responded somewhat dryly.

"You tried to protect me, even when I was practically throwing myself against you. You didn't give in until you were sure I really wanted you, and not because your brother was paying me," I spoke, seeing Harry clench his jaw. "You didn't touch me until I let you feel my wetness. Until I proved how much I wanted you."

"You were never hard to read on that account," He indulged, sending me a hedonic glare. "As you said, you weren't exactly subtle."

A laugh broke from my lips, as well as a small blush. I felt so ridiculously now, knowing what I did. "You must've been in agony back then. Why didn't you just tell me all of this, Harry?"

Why not just tell me and spare himself my endless flirting, grinding and boundary-breaking titty-displays? If he had told me, he would have been without all of this—

"Like I said," Harry now arose from his seat and walked towards the door, smoothing down his jacket. He then cast me a look over his shoulder. And that's when I saw his eyes burn with something un-gentlemanly for the first time. "I'm really not that good."

And then he stepped out, leaving me in a heated silence to consider his last meaningful words.

• • •

Because he liked it. A woman in her purest form, naked on his lap.