Chapter 32
Guilt was a heavy thing. Undeniably the heaviest of all man-made products. Within moments, it could hold all the power to destroy a fragile soul; the becoming of hellfire within one’s soul had the potential to murder all those that came too close. Much like secrets and lies, guilt weighed like lead.
Worse was the disguises - the make pretends. It was the crashing of waves and trying to convince oneself that it wouldn’t swallow everything in its path. It was finding beauty in a tsunami; convinced that such magic of unfathomably large waves to be kind. They are not.
Like guilt, tsunamis destroy. If it homes, constellations of city lights and people. Like tsunamis, guilt comes in waves - never fully allowing oneself to breathe.
Unfortunately for Anneliese, she didn’t know that when the ocean begins to recede / she is meant to run.
She never ran.
Her first night in London was a pleasant one, she slept in the finest silks Howard and Alexander could buy - she was cated by staff at every second and praised by the whispers between the two boys. There was luxury in fear, she knew that first hand. She just never expected to relish in it so much.
The first morning was a disaster, and it all begins and ends with rich men being rich.
Upon leaving the accommodation Howard had only booked for the night, Anneliese narrowed her eyes at the strange looking vehicle in front of her. Howard only drove Stark models and Alexander was the usual epitope of wealth through his custom made cars - because it was very normal to require a piano to be built for the passenger to play.
Yet the car in front of her was neither. She wasn’t particularly a car person, but she could tell it was expensive and new - obvious from the crowd’s wandering eyes. She knew they were struggling to either watch the every move of Howard Stark or the purple shine from the unknown vehicle.
“Please don’t say this vehicle is one of yours.” She glanced over to Alexander. “Or you.” She encentuated as she narrowed her eyes to Howard.
They both shrugged, as if what she was saying was nothing new.
“We needed a car,” Alexander muttered. “Supposably Howard needed to drive us all to work.”
Her body became rigid as Howard’s hands gently rubbed her back, moreso when he dipped his head towards her ear - his skin dangerously close for a scene that required no scandal. Even when she allowed herself the freedom to love and to be loved, it was still not a choice she got the right to choose. Her relationship with Howard, no matter what, would have to remain professional.
Grief was a heavy thing, and Anneliese was certain she wouldn’t be able to speak ever again if she’s the reason Howard ever gets hurt.
Then there was his voice, it seemed the man had realised her walls crumbled when he spoke quietly and lowly. She was in absolute trouble, as if the tsunami had already carried her out to sea. There would be no rescue, no safety.
There never truly was safety within this word, or any other.
And yet, the thrills of the unknown always choked her. To question the very answer she knew: Who was the ocean and who was the tsunami.
He chuckles, sending shivers down her spine - involuntarily forcing her spine to curve right into his hand. Sometimes Anneliese forgot Howard was as much of a businessman as a scientist, and she had just played into his hand - quite literally.
“Now, now,” He spoke and Anneliese held all self control and respect not to squirm and draw any more attention to herself by staring ahead. Alexander was already doing his usual Alexander-like thing of charismatically smiling at all the women and finding his next conquest. Stupid boy.
“It’s not honest of a lady to react to such,” he paused. Anneliese’s nerves were ablazed as his fingers trailed small circles on her back… slowly moving further up to her bra strap and to her shoulder blade. It was pleasure she had never felt - and it was pleasure she was certain an unmarried woman wasn’t meant to feel.
This was uncivilized, improper.
Unwillingly leaning into his touch, anything to cool the fire within her spine. She nearly cooed as he chuckled once more. Who was the woman in her body and where was Anneliese. Her actions were nothing like her thoughts. She was to never love, to never like. She was a pawn, if it was to be hers or another man’s game. A choice was never meant to be given
Yet, she chose to act in ways that were foreign to her.
“I do believe we have some blueberry muffins to collect before we find out exactly why the big man sent us half way across the globe.”
The journey to some mystery cafe and Alexanders overwhelming urge to spit out as many facts as possible on the royal family was all that kept Anneliese calm. It was hard to concentrate, she realised, not even the dotted lines or bank up on cars could keep her focused long enough to forget Howard’s hand resting on her leg.
Oh, she made a fatal mistake that morning. Perhaps the worst of any kind. She packed a rather short black skirt, just long enough to be a few inches off her knees where it didn’t raise any eyebrows; short enough that Howard definitely realised and asked her to wear a pair of black heels with it. Vexing man.
The mistake was that the skirt definitely hiked up when she would sit. Usually she would only wear such a skirt if she had caught the bus and walked to work with Alexander. As the man was too self obsessed most of the time - that the skirt only ever hiked up when sitting on the bus (a solution was easy; books covered her thighs very well) or when she was at her desk. In which, both situations did not include Howard’s palm resting - no gripping - her thigh. It was certainly immodest and anyone could see it.
The anyone was Alexander Grey, who was far too busy trying to figure out which cousin killed who in the 1400’s. The man was obsessed with an institution that has a social ban of the Grey family attending any royal gala or charities in the United Kingdom. Anneliese only learnt the reason was because Mr Grey refused to stop drinking at a function and quite literally - drunk yelled at the King.
She could never believe quite a story if it wasn’t for Alexander owning a copy of the paper - somehow finding a way to own the paper that was printed several years before he was even born. So, Anneliese knew Howard wouldn’t be caught - and she knew Howard knew that too. He was a snake, she forgot. She often did.
It was easy to be fooled by Howard, his caring smile and contradictingly curious eyes cursed her an early death. He took what he needed and he did it without any remorse. He was a rat before a snake, and he was a child before he was a rat. Alas, not a child for long.
He was harden over the years, and yet, he always seemed to be an open book - so she wondered… even when thoughts slowly got harder to process. What secrets did Howard Stark hide, and to what extent is he willing to go to protect the ones he love most.
Of course, Anneliese already knew the answer. He was the rich spiced whiskey with flames dancing on top until it all became too much. This answer, though not one made to respond to such a question was all she needed to know that maybe she wasn’t that different to the man next to her.
As his grip tightens slightly, she watches as his eyes stare down the traffic in front. Harden, yes. Soft? Well, not exactly. Howard Stark was a master actor, a fact she often neglected. How much of this romance was real and not - the man did confess… even wrote her name down a hundred times. But was it all a ploy?
And then he glanced over at her, his liquid eyes melting into what she could only describe as a loving home in the middle of winter. He offered a genuine smile, a slight squeeze to her thigh before he raised an eyebrow.
She watched as he mouthed ‘what’, a slight amount of humor dripping from his teeth as he flashed them. Far too perfect for a man who only learnt what cufflinks were two years ago.
Time went by slowly, silence pursued.
Until Alexander becomes quiet - suddenly aware of the tension Anneliese could feel radiating from Howard. He’s only quiet for a moment before he says, “I will find a different car to travel in, if you two keep eyefucking one another.”
Gasping, Anneliese threw her head over the headrest, staring Alexander down. She didn’t realise or care that Howard had shifted his hand from her thigh to her waist, tightening as they began to drive in the banked up traffic.
“Do you want to say that again, Grey?” She baited, narrowing her eyes further.
He laughed with enough power to fuel Brooklyn’s energy source for two weeks. It was loud, it was dangerous and it was a declaration that he would do it again. Of course he would. He was Alexander Grey.
Alexander leaned forward and whispered rather loudly for a whisper.
“Let me restate it then Miss Lorenz. Could you stop being seduced by my boss in front of my eyes.”
If it wasn’t for Howard’s grip, she would have attacked Alexander within that moment. He knew all the buttons to push. As if he was doing what he was saying, as if-
-Saved by Howard pushing her back into her seat as they came to a sudden stop. Anneliese felt the flicker of her thoughts disappear as she quickly sent a questioning look in Howard’s direction.
“I swear the British do not know how to drive.” He muttered under his breath. “You two are the bane of my existence.”
Testing buttons as always, Alexander spoke. “I am humbled to be thought of so highly… And honour to be compared to our favourite seductre-”
“Do not finish that sentence.” Anneliese cut in, “Don’t you bloody dare.”
Silence ensured until they arrived at the cafe that sold supposably the best blueberry muffins in all of London. Before either Alexander or Anneliese could leave the car, Howard shifted his posture, his elbow leaning on the back of his seat as his hand held his head up.
He seemed so casual, even if he was dressed toe to head in the most expensive fabrics. It all seemed so simple.
“If I hear one insult on the way to the meeting, I will personally throttle you.”
His words were true, but Alexander always loved to test buttons.
The youngest Grey’s lips curved as a small wrinkle appeared at the edge of his eyes. A tell-tale that Alexander was about to do something rather stupid.
“Is complimenting Anneliese’s rigidness when you touch her leg up considered an insult?”
Silence….
…Silence…
…Silence
“For fuck sakes Grey.”
And whilst outside a popular cafe, passersby got to witness a show of Anneliese screaming at Alexander and Howard wrestling him in the smallest car a rich man could buy.
Guilt was a heavy thing, but sometimes in water it was considerably lighter. Anneliese hoped she would remain in the water forever, but atlas a tsunami was coming and it would be too late before she even realised.