CLONE with Aurelia/Ilyas
> It’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we’d do
‘Cause I was goin’ down, but I was doin’ it with you
Yeah, everything we broke and all the trouble that we made
But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face
Oh, look what we became- Olivia Rodrigo, Favorite Crime
At his ‘revelation’ that his father was a late and no longer a current, Aurelia had acted like she was shocked. She had not said anything for a while- as if processing the information that she already knew. Did she truly expect him to believe that she did not know of his father’s death? He had called her a good actress, but it seems he had been wrong about that just like he had been wrong about her personality, that was to say she was a terrible actress.
She had known of his father’s death because Harrison had told her, he had told her back then when their relationship- the relationship between Harrison and the con artist he had come to know as Aurelia Juliet Ellis were drawing parallels with Romeo and Juliet. He remembered it bitterly, her hands playing with his head as the rain poured behind the windows. She had leaned down to whisper to him, and they had shared laughter amongst themselves and they had shared a crowd of love. in the bedroom. Nothing much could come from their relationship, he knew it and she knew it and thus like Romeo and Juliet, their relationship was a secret. A simple relationship and yet a dangerous secret.
As her hands were against his skin, rubbing circles on his body and teasing him, he had mourned his father in her ungloved hands. He had mourned and mourned and she had comforted or at least pretending she was comforting him, coaxing him into her hold with sweet words that made it look like she cared. She had told him that she had heard of his father’s death, 2 years ago, when it happened- it was a big topic in the Ellis household she had told him, her mother could not stop to talk of it. Now as she stood before him, pretending, acting like all that had occurred between them though there was no much strings to it except for the ‘club’ which Harrison had told her to also treat as his own, Harrison wondered if she had laughed with her mother behind his back.
Did she mock him with his mother? Joining laughter and playing him for a fool? Did her mother know all along about Vera, about the club? Was all of this planned, even their skin to skin moments planned by her mother? She had been pimped by her own mother and had tricked him, played with his emotions. Harrison scoffed, if what she had done did not impact Vera or everyone else in the club then Harrison would have applauded her for her deceitfulness. He would have been intrigued and adore her even more for it, because it was an interesting tale and though she was Juliet Ellis when she was with him, she had not expected much for her. She was never planning on staying long, because she could not- being a lady and a daughter of a duke from a rival family, it would not have worked easily and they did not expect it to work easily or last as long as it did.
“I… I am so sorry. I did not mean… I only meant…” A trembling voice she began. The stuttering and the trembling was incredibly mocking, it was an insult to him- to his family and to his pride. Did she still think that she could trick him? When was she going to stop playing this fcking games? She had already shown herself as deceitful and thus why did she continue to pretend? Was all of this humorous to her?
It was, wasn’t it. Harrison could not believe that there had once been a time he cared for her, that he had forgotten who she was and who he was. But he would not forget again, not like there would ever be an again. She had shut the door completely, locked it and thrown away the key.
Harrison took a step forward, his eyes that were usually warm, were now icy and piercing, . “Sorry? Hah! you’re sorry for what exactly?” He asked, his voice almost a growl, “Sorry that you used me? That you used all of us? That you threw away your own dau-Vera?” he berated, each word was delivered with an intensity that left no room for evasion…
He took another step forward, his body language a threatening aura.
"You brought up my late father unfairly when he was not part of the talk we were talking, pretended not to know that had died when I had already told you previously and when you had probably laughed at his death with your mother. " He accused, his tone, a low growl. “So tell me,” He demanded, his voice unwavering. 'What did you mean if not to mock and insult my late father? I know that your family’s hatred and vile nature knows no bounds, but how could one be so vile to mock a man that already lays in the coffin? " The reference to the coffin added a chilling weight to his words. His eyes boring to her’s, seeking an explanation and wishing it was her and not his father that laid on the coffin.
My father had never once said a bad word about your family, not even with the hatred our families have for each other that once made us Romeo and Juliet, and yet you make a mockery of your name? Insult me all you wish but do not speak of my father," The threat in his tone was palpable, a warning that the boundaries of decency had been crossed and consequences would follow.
He crossed his arms, his tall structure commanding the space with an imposing presence. At 6’3", he towered over the divide created by the bush, casting a long shadow that seemed to stretch towards the very core of the dispute. The lines etched across his forehead were more pronounced than usual, a testament to the intensity of his emotions.
The harsh sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on his face, highlighting the stern set of his jaw. Harrison’s eyes, usually warm pools of chocolate-brown, were now stormy and dark, a reflection of the tempest raging within him. They bore into Aurelia with an unwavering intensity, leaving no room for evasion or denial.
His shoulders, normally relaxed, were squared in a stance that radiated determination and a readiness for confrontation. The air around him seemed to crackle with an electric charge, emphasizing the tension that could be cut with a knife.
As he spoke, each word was enunciated with a precision that cut through the air, and the timbre of his voice resonated with a weight that could not be ignored. His eyes widened, taking a step back as he let out dark chuckles running fingers through his hair. She was now in his face pretending not to know who Vera is? She was trying to make herself look like the victim here, probably to make him look like an aggressor when the guards or another person comes, make them think that Harrison is accusing her unfairly, that he is speaking words of madness.
He reached into his pockets, retrieving a cigarette that dangled casually between his fingers. With a quick motion, he lit it up, and as he brought the cigarette to his mouth, a swirl of smoke curled around him, further intensifying the barrier between them. The hazy tendrils of smoke danced in the air, creating an ephemeral screen that mirrored their complex situation.
Inhaling deeply and then exhaling, the smoke billowed around him, a tangible representation of the distance that had grown between them.They were separated by families, the bush, morals as she lacked them and now the smoke. Yet, despite the divisions, there remained an unusual unity tethering them through Vera, a connection neither of them could try to escape from.
Taking another contemplative puff, a cold, mirthless laughter began to emerge from him. The sound, devoid of any genuine love or humor, echoed through the space, punctuating the tense atmosphere. The cigarette, now reduced to a stub, was casually dropped and crushed beneath the heel of his boot, its ember extinguished.
Running his hands through his hair, he pushed back the strands in a gesture that seemed to mirror the unraveling of civility between them. The laughter persisted, a bitter undercurrent that hinted at a history laden with resentments and unresolved grievances. It was a laughter that spoke of the complexities and contradictions woven into the fabric of their shared past, a past that had led them to this moment of strained coexistence.
He laughed- and laughed, and laughed did he. It was maniac, and perhaps he had truly gone mad- she had made him mad in the worst way possible and he placed his face in his hands cleaning it as the laughter stopped. He ignored the next words that came from her lips, telling him that he was addressing her from her property. “Shut your mouth,” His voice was void from any emotion, not even anger laid on his face, at least not yet. He glared at her, as he continued, “Just shut your mouth Pretend that you do not know me or know of what I am to you, all you like. Pretend that nothing occurred between us, pretend that all that we did in the bedroom was nothing as I now believe them to be nothing to as well, but do not insult the relationship between you and Vera who is now sick and in danger of death as fake as it may be.” He remembered it, the scene played in his mind all to well. Her hands on his, touching him, leaning in close- they were so close to each other, in a way that was everything scandalous. In a bedroom alone, she had leaned to him and they had shared a night together, resting on the bed and then Vera had came to be. She at the many moments that they had began to spend together, the many moments they had laughed among themselves, they had then shared a child. “Vera is your daughter as you know,” He clutched his fists, his eyes darkening as he talked, “You would constantly sing praises of her, told her how much you love her and how once everything was settled, you would come back to her. You have told me to take good care of her but she was mine to begin with, so of course I would take care of her. Now, she is sick, living secretly in my household where nobody but I, the maids and doctors I had paid to take care of her know of her existence. I was going to tell you, during the dance, during the ball to visit her as she had requested and I wanted nothing more than to see Vera happy and I thought you would be saddened by her sickness but overjoyed to visit her because I was a fool in thinking you were of kind heart and cared for your daughter as she is called. I hope that I and her were your favorite crime, and I hope that one day you would come to regret that and I just want you to know I shall hate you forever, a wrench, a con artist is what you are”
He took several steps closer to her, standing quite close to her now- the only thing separating them was the bush. He was about to continue, to utter more, to do something when he had seen Ilyas Keats coming, the person he was actually looking for.
@Madilfill - Ilyas
@benitz786 - Con artist
Validate me