Romans & histoires Harper Murphy

It took the last strength in her to be able to hold the tears till she leave the crowd. Here she was, the most miserable and vulnerable 22 years old lady any one would ever think of. Her life never had good memories, it's filled with pain and hurt. Harper never had a single memory of her parent or what they look like since they both died while saving a stranger, and unfortunately during the healing process of the stranger, her mother's water broke and she was birthed. The only family she had was the woman who saved her life 22 years ago after the stranger was killed. It hasn't been up to a year that the woman she knew as her grandma died, yet it felt like yesterday to Harper.

"And God forbid I work at my sister's store. Do you know she gives me the expired kimbap and says I'd survive it? Pure evil, I tell you." Her smile swallows her beady eyes as always, causing me to chuckle. She knew she had me. Basically, Harper did social media. Well, aside from working at a joint cosmetics store and boutique, her life centered around deafening I*******m notifications and Twitter reposts. On the contrary, I only had a F******k account that was now banned for calling out a misogynistic comment. "Just one hour. You tour the place, and we go back home. I have to resume work early today. The grim reaper is coming around."

Harper broke out in cold sweat upon hearing that. He was horrified and secretly thought, ‘Quinn is leaving? If she leaves, won’t Master and Finley’s plan be in vain?!’ As Homer’s most trusted assistant, Harper knew almost everything about Homer. When Finley had secretly flown to New York, Harper was the one who had gone to JFK to take him back to the Fox family. Harper was well-aware of Homer’s plan today, so he could not allow Quinn to leave just yet. He tried to stall them, and he said, “No signal? That’s impossible! Is there a misunderstanding here?”

"What the fuck is funny? Know what? I'm not doing this." "Oh, I like you. I don't trust in soul mates but you. I like you a lot,” He reiterated, bobbing his head with consent "Bye." "I am Harper. Harper Kennedy. I don't know your name yet, but if you consider screwing the entire world over and not giving a damn, I can help you. We have the same look and I believe you and I will get along nicely. Just a few hours, you look like a guy with nothing left to lose."

I am a man preparing for war, racing to catch an intruder in the act. I reach the door, a thin layer of moisture forming on my forehead. I grab the doorframe, stopping my momentum, and force myself to take a sharp, steadying breath before looking inside. All the furious, righteous anger drains from my body in a single second. Harper is sitting on the plush rug in the dead center of the floor. She is surrounded by a thick cashmere blanket, looking incredibly small and entirely fragile against the backdrop of the massive, meticulously designed room. She looks up at me as I fill the doorway, her beautiful green eyes completely bloodshot, heavy tears streaming rapidly down her pale cheeks.

Harper's gaze dwindles to the floor. "How are you feeling?" Harvey asks. I walk over to him and say, "Better," though I think it might be a lie. "How are things going here?" Harvey looks to Harper who's arms are crossed. "I didn't mean to get mad at you," she mumbles. "I just got angry when you came in and started yelling at Alo when he's been nothing but nice to me. I know you think he's brainwashed me or whatever, but I actually like him, and I don't appreciate you telling him he'll never see me again. Whether or not his instincts are right about us being magical soulmates, I'm still grateful for him saving me yesterday."

Dominic said as he pointed around, “Homer, I need this kitchen squeaky clean as soon Winston is done with here.” He walked out of the kitchen, and I stood there, puzzled. I looked at this lady pouring things into a bowl, whisking them, and then running to another end of the kitchen to pick something else, then back to her gigantic bowl. “Hey, I am Harper Holmes.” I cleared my throat and tried to start a conversation “So, he also gets your name wrong.” she laughed “I am Ari Wilson.” So, I wasn’t the only one that had to deal with him calling me another name.