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The Resistance { Teaser [Coming Soon] }

Chapter 5

Chapter Song(s):

Rose walked into the kitchen smiling as Harold Styles walked slowly behind her with his head down as if he were examining the floor tiling. Seeing as how Rose is new, I know I should take it easy on her, but I live here. Next time she should ask me if it’s okay if she allows the enemy to step foot on ground that’s supposed to be sacred for me. She’s careless and whether she knows it or not, the points that she gained for the fancy sandwich have since been revoked. I’m not exactly sure as to why the Styles’ have become an automatic form of plague for my household, but I’m sure to beware of the unknown.

“You have a visitor.” Rose said still smiling, clearly not understanding the weight of her decision.

“I can see that.”

Rose walked past me putting her hand on my shoulder still smiling as she collected my plate from in front of me and placed it in the sink before she began to do the washing up. Harold stood awkwardly in place, slightly knock kneed with books in hand while using the toe of his right boot to scratch his left calf. Its a wonder that he can even move freely in the black skinny jeans that he always seems to be wearing. It makes me think of him like a cartoon; when he opens his closet or drawers the only pieces of clothing that would be hanging up or folded would be endless pairs of the same black skinny jeans. Either that or he’s disgusting and wears the same pair every day.

His head picked up as he scanned the room from under the hood of his jumper and when his eyes landed on mine, my hazel ones automatically squinted in distrust.

“What are you doing at my house Styles? What do you want?”

Harold looked at me while pulling his lips into a hardline. Without speaking, he walked over to the kitchen island where I was seated placing the book that was in his hands onto the countertop in front of me.

“I took this on accident earlier today after I left. Figured you’d need it for the homework that you probably won’t read.”

Harold spoke quietly after backing away from me and my eyes went from him to the dreadful book on the counter; Learn it in Latin: Volume One. I looked back at the boy in front of me as he continued to scan the kitchen as if he’d never seen one before. It bothered me to no end.

“Is that all?” I asked snapping his attention back to me.
He nodded his head up and down with the slightest smirk on his lips, but I see nothing funny here.

“Then you can get–”

“Mila?” Rose interrupted me mid-sentence and I look at her out of the corner of my eye, not bothering to turn my head.

“Yes, Rose?” I answered slowly before my eyes trailed back over to Harold.

“Would you mind showing your friend up to your room? I need to wax the floors.”
I knotted my brow at her. She keeps digging her hole deeper.

He is not my friend!”

Rose smiled before she spoke again and Harold rolled his eyes before scrunching his face up like a balled up piece of paper, shaking his head no and agreeing with me, “Sure little Miss. Your mum and dad told you could do with social interaction with someone around your own age.”

I’m sure that I saw Harold’s lips twinge up at the corners slightly. My mouth dropped open as I was clearly annoyed by Rose’s comment. This is only her first day and she’s already acting like she knows everything about me. I found it more than rude and she must have noticed before she opened her mouth, still keen to get me and Harold Styles out of her way.

“Can you please take your associate upstairs so I can start? I need to be at least halfway done before your mum gets back.”

I looked at Rose with a huff before I turned to jog up the stairs. Behind me was the soft patter of Harold’s boots as he took the stairs slowly one by one.

I walked into my room and sat at my desk chair before placing the stupid Latin book on top of my table. It wasn’t until then that I noticed the folder that was peeking out of the back of the book. It certainly wasn’t mine. It must belong to the annoying curly headed fuck who stood silently in my doorway; the look of bemusement on his face.

I ignored his presents as I removed the folder from the book. Inside, there were words scribbled on documents that I couldn’t understand. Not because the writing was illegible, but because the words were all in another language; Latin no doubt, reading: Negao. Jusse desina et desinunt. I glanced in his direction noting that he was still taking in the room around him and while he continued to look, I took out a new sticky note, writing the words out to decode for later.
He’d taken a few steps into my room by now all the while making me uncomfortable.

“Your room is very...girly and you seem very mannish. Didn’t expect this from you of all people.” Harold mumbled to no one in particular as he continued to walk and glance around the white, cream, and periwinkle purple purple color of my room– courtesy of mum once again.

“What do you mean me of all people? You don’t even know me.You’re such a rude wanker. You can go home now. There or what ever hole you crawled out of.”

Harold’s arms wrapped around himself in a hug much like how they did earlier as I stopped him in his tracks. The slightest smirk appeared on his lips that reminded me of his cold hearted mother and as I thought about her words from yesterday again I almost pitied him…

“That’s not a problem, but I have something else of yours that I’m not sure if you needed or not.” His arms fell from a hug to simply being crossed over his chest as I looked at him unimpressed.

“Whatever it is just give it to me and leave!”

Harold's hand went to his right pocket, removing a hot pink sticky note resembling the one that I placed in the front of my book; filled with my motherly adjectives. When I opened it to the front cover of the pesky Latin book that brought Styles to me in the first place, I noticed that that’s exactly what he had in his hand.

“Not very nice to talk about yourself that way, Milena.”
My eyebrows knotted, but I slowly grinned as I pulled his folder from the back of my book.

“Looks like I have something of yours as well.” The smile fell from his face as he crossed the room to me quickly.

“Give it back.”

“I think it’s only fair that I read something of yours.”

“Milena, give it back, please? Its not mine.”

There was an urgency to his voice and his face began to pale and his eyes began to widen. I had the upper hand and I plan to keep it. The scores once again pull in my favor as I wave the folder in front of him.

“What are you? A collector of things that don’t belong to you? Give me the note and we’ll do an even trade.”

Harold Styles crumpled up my post it note and tossed it on my bed.

“There, I don’t care about your fucking sticky note! Give me the folder back, please?”
I stood from my seat hesitantly and crossed over to the curly haired boy with the fading eye bruise. He held his hand out in front of him and I eyed the words scribbled on the front of the folder once more. I slowly lowered the folder to his fingers, but before he could get a good grip onto the file, I pulled it away from his hands.

“If its not yours, then to whom does it belong?”


looked at me dumbstruck but I know he knows what it is that I’m asking him.

“The folder isn’t yours. It. Belongs. To someone. Who’s is it?”

“Not yours, therefore not any of your business to whom it does or does not belong to! Give. It back. To me. Now!”

Harold reached over my head for the folder and had I not been quick enough he would have gotten it. As I pulled away from him once more a piece of paper fell from the folder that I hadn’t seen when I briefly looked in it the first time. The Styles didn’t seem to notice as the rectangular white sheet billowed slowly down to the ground. I would have left it there as well if I didn’t see the rather neat handwriting that now lay face down on my ashwood flooring.

I threw the folder on my bed to divert Harold’s gaze as I quickly picked up the paper from under my desk to place it on top of it, just next to my book.

“You got your folder. Now leave.”

snatched up his portfolio and turned to exit my room. I could hear Rose try to stop him from going. She wanted him to stay even though he was the enemy. This is only her first day, but she’s already doing a bang up job meddling once again where she doesn’t belong. I listen to her at the top of the stairs asking Harry to stay, but luckily her pleas fall on deaf ears and the boy with the fading eye bruise which will surely be renewed by Monday, leaves to go back to his mausoleum of a house.

I run back to my bed and jump to the middle of it, crossing my legs indian style when I hear Rose make her way up the stairs. The door to my bedroom is cracked, but Rose still knocks lightly against it with her knuckle three times. Tap, tap, tap– much like Harold’s pencil.

“Come in.”

“Young Mr. Styles left.”

“Good riddance. And if he ever comes here again don't answer the door, or at least ask me if its alright. You can't just let anyone in. Especially people that I can't stand to look at, let alone be int he same room with. I don't care if he's my age. I don't care what my parents said. You ask me instead, okay?” I responded quickly causing Rose to grin at me whilst tilting her head to the side.

She walked into my room a bit more before she was at the foot of my bed, placing her mop against the wall before taking a seat.

“You don’t fancy him?”

“Fancy him?!” I scoffed at Rose’s disgusting question fighting the urge to kick him out of my room.

“Fancy him?! NO! I don’t fancy him! He’s an arse!”

Rose laughed at my disdain, but once again I find nothing amusing.

“Why not?”

Rose asked innocently as she adjusted the ties of the dull grey apron she wore. I felt sorry for her really. My mum said the apron wasn’t ‘classy enough’ when she bought it for Rose last week. Soon enough, she’ll be wearing some old itchy maid get up because my mother is an imposter. I see nothing wrong with the apron, but these decisions of course ‘are not up to me,’ as mum told me when I asked her what was wrong with Rose wearing her own clothes.
I opened my mouth to answer her question, but couldn’t find a real answer, which frustrated me. He’s an annoying prick, yes, but he is the only one who I’ve talked to at school as unintentionally as it may be.

“He’s weird.”

Rose smiled, “So are you. I think you should give him a chance, little Miss.”

“Little Miss?” I spoke ignoring her statement, “How old are you? Surely not old enough to call me ‘little.’”

Rose smirked again before pushing an astray lock of blonde hair off of her face. When it fell back down in spite of her efforts, she pursed her lips together before tucking it behind her ear.

“Twenty-five. That's old enough in my opinion, Mila.”

“Only eleven years. I wish I was your age. I wouldn’t have to be in this hell hole. How do you know to call me Mila?”

Rose smiled again, showing a glimpse of her pearly white teeth.

“When I was interviewed, your father spoke of you. When he said 'Mila' and when I look at you now, it seems so fitting. I hope you don't mind that I call you that too? If you do I'll stick to Milena."

I shook my head, not minding the gesture at all. It reminds me of my father. It also reminds me how much of a shame it is that I have to have a memory of him as if he weren't living and breathing and sleeping in the same house as I do. Rose continued to speak, drawing my attention away from my father as she ran her hand through her golden hair.

"Don’t rush youth. Things are much simpler at the age you are now. It may not seem like it at times, but if there’s any promise that I can make it’s that life will age you quickly enough on its own. I didn’t have much of a childhood growing up and even though I’m only eleven years older than you, I find myself wishing that I didn’t grow up as fast as I had to. My mum died at a very young age and my dad might as well not have been there. Stay young Milena, and cherish it.”
Rose stood from her spot on the bed as we heard the front door of the house open with a loud creek on its hinges. High heeled stilettos could be heard clicking across the floors to the bottom of the stairwell, and without a doubt in my mind, I knew that it was my mother before she even spoke.

“Milena? Rose, why aren’t the floors done?”

Shit,” Rose huffed under her breath, “I needed to make a good first impression on my first day. I need this job.”

I looked at Rose before heading down the stairs in front of her.

“Hi mum, Rose was helping me with my homework. I asked her to and distracted her from her work, sorry.”

“Helping you with homework?”

“Yes, mam. Maths.”

“Hm,” my mother hummed rubbing her hand over her flat stomach, “will you be able to finish the floors tomorrow along with the other things I’ll have ready for you by then? The smell of the wax will irritate me and the baby if you try to do it now.”

Complete bullshit.

“Yes, Mrs. Hunt, I can do that.”

“Good then. You can be done for the day. Thank you, Rose.”

Taking off her apron and hanging it on a hook in the kitchen, Rose grabbed her coat to leave, but not before pulling me in for a hug and whispering to me “Thank you.” I’m not one for hugging people other than my father, but oddly enough, this time I didn’t mind.
My mum saw Rose out before she turned and smiled at me while holding on to the pendant she wore around her neck.

“How is she?” She asked, me moving the new piece of jewelry back and forth on the old white gold chain my father bought her years ago.

“She's fine. I like her I suppose.”

“You like someone? I’m shocked Milly. Hell must be close to freezing over, if it hasn't done so already.” My mum chuckled to herself before picking up the mail.

“Have you eaten? How was school.”


I shudder to think the word. School was nothing more than failed tests and Harold Styles.

“I ate. Rose made me a fancy sandwich and school was uneventful.”

“Good. Go back to your room then and finish your homework. I love you. The baby is fine and growing by the way. Thanks for asking and being concerned about younger sibling.”

I didn’t ask because I didn’t care to know.

I turned on my heel heading back up the stairs to my room, closing the door behind me. That was more than enough conversation with my mum for an entire weekend and honestly that will probably the only time that we exchange words besides the occasional ‘good morning’ or ‘please pass me’ at the dinner table.

Walking over to my desk I decided to actually do my homework before Sunday night, but before I could focus on opening my books, the white sheet of paper that fell from Harold’s folder caught my attention. On it written in fairly neat handwriting is what seemed to be a journal entry:

Those who fear death, do not live with it. A breathing entity whom I love unconditionally by default. But to love is not to like. Death has no boundaries, not even when it comes to it's own flesh and blood...Our days I feel, are nothing more but numbers. Time is spent under hades unpredictable watch, but when the hour strikes I'll be prepared.


Mors solum initium est.

My eyebrows knotted as I continued to read over the very last sentence, that was written so eerily neat by the boy with the fading eye bruise and the acurate arm. Mors solum initium est.I had seen that wording before. Not the entire sentence but the very first word could be found in my Latin book that Harold appointed himself to bring me. I might not know much about the language, however I do know that Mors is a common word. When I opened the book and looked to the dictionary of the first chapter of Learn it in Latin: Volume One the word 'Mors' displayed as plain as day.

Taking my curiosity a step further, I took out my laptop searching the sentence in Google and hoping that it woudl translate and make some type of sense in English. When it did however, I wasn't sure how to feel.

'Mors slum initium est'
Translates to Death is only the beginning.


Surprise! Lol I've been working on chapters for this story for a while now and I have a few more done, but the updates will still be really slow. Thank you all for sticking around and being patient with it. I really can't wait until I can update for it more often. What did you all think of this chapter? I will add the gif for this chapter and the chapter song later on today. Please let me know what you think by spamming me with comments below and by subscribing and voting if you're reading and enjoying. I hope that you are! Have an amazing Saturday! I love all of you beauties!~Xx


@Ciao Niccie
lol aww thank you so much! I have more chapters of this written already, but I'm also writing another story and debating what I should do for this one. I think I bit off more than I can chew lol. Do you have a wattpad love?


I will cry if you don't update soon... You wouldn't want that on your conscience now would you? Love you a whole bunch!

not working not working

Am I the only one that found it extremely sexy when Harry was speaking Latin? Picture real Harry speaking Latin (or any other language for that matter) fluently. I literally died great update! Can't wait for the next oh and Melina knows the score is more like Harry:20 her:2

LiLoHaNiZa LiLoHaNiZa

Aw! boo thank you that just really made my day, and I plan on reading all your books until you don't want to make no more. You have some of the best books on this page:) Not only do i love your books but i got a friend out of it, your fun to talk to and very smart babe and it means the world to me for her to have my name. I love Fanfic's so much i always wanted one to be about me or just my name and i'm so happy that, that finally happened. Now I just got to bug someone to make a Fanfiction about me;) Xx

Chey Chey

Im seriously so Happy that you're here to start another story with me! Its only right that Milena has your name. Thank you so much for sticking with me it honestly means the world to me that you enjoy my stories! Love you babe and I promise not to disappoint! ~Xx :*