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Midnight Hour
HARLOW WAS FROZEN, only to watch Michael sitting up and bring his feet to the ground, so he was sitting on the edge of the bed while she just stood there, rooted to the spot. Harlow didn't know what to expect at this point, what she was supposed to do in a situation like this? She was aiming to avoid him like the plague; yes, she didn't do an excellent job at it, but how was she supposed to avoid him when he could be everywhere. It wasn't her fault.
Harlow cursed the Gods above, yet, it seemed they weren't playing any games.
Her thoughts were clouded with hundreds of questions, but the only one she managed to utter was, "How did you get in..." But she didn't even manage to complete it when his eyes landed on the answer, an open window. Did she leave it open? Even if she didn't, she was pretty sure a closed window wouldn't be able to stop Michael from assessing her room.
'Gaddamn him.'
The side of his
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