21 Murders | Harry Styles AU (discontinued)

XVI. Cataclysmic

cataclysmic (adjective): relating to or denoting a violent natural event

Noelle's POV

Rolling my eyes at Harry's stiff command, I abruptly turn and head to the bathrooms. It seemed like days are more weary in this department and I missed going to school and walking the jam-packed hallways. At least then I didn't feel like I was being choked by a leash.

After doing my business, I head back to ops where Harry told me he'd be, and push my hands flat against the door. Klara's eyes were the first to meet my own and I couldn't help but mentally gawk at her obsessive need to always drag me down below her.

It could possibly be because she thought I was taking her partner away, but my instincts tell me it is a deeper emotion that is causing such heat to this situation. Klara likes Harry, and the more I am around, the less she is allowed to be. That, and thanks to Estelle, I now know they had a fling; which I can't necessarily see. But who am I to judge?

"Looks like we won't be going alone,'' Klara sneers, crossing her arms over the tight-fitted bullet proof vest on her chest. The first three buttons on her button-up uniform are un-done and protruding with the help of her push-up bra. "How splendid."

"Splendid, indeed,'' I smile back, trying to hide away the sarcastic tone in my voice. I'm pretty sure she knows that I don't care for her company, and seeing as though there are other people in the room, she is controlling her usually over-bitchy undertone.

"Good, now let's go,'' Harry sighed, brushing past me with a look of annoyance on his face. I was already starting to miss the cheeky lad with dimples and a knack for picking on my old sneaks.

I followed next to Harry- trying to match his overly quick steps- while Klara seemed to like the attention of leading the pack. It was a cheap shot, but I could tell when another woman was trying to flaunt herself- because let's be certain- I am a woman myself.

With the roll of my eyes, I cross my arms over the bulky velcro and try to look anywhere but her fat ass swaying in those jeans. I had to admit, she put Iggy to risk, but that wasn't what I want to hear nor think about.

The second we stepped out into the echoing parking garage, my ears fuzzed with that silence-y noise of white air. It was some-what crisp from the cool air that managed to creep in, but other than that, the extremely musty smell of wet cement and cloudy air was suffocating. It must've rained while we were indoors.

A light beep echoed throughout the walls, bouncing in every direction as one police SUV 's headlights lit up. Rows upon rows of police cars were lined throughout the back of this flat while the employee's parking area was on the opposite side. I could almost manage to see Harry's black Range Rover sitting lonely in the corner.

Like he'd said once before, it was very rare for someone to own a car in New York because of the constantly packed streets and over-priced gas. The more simpler option would be to take the subway or a cab to work, if not in walking distance.

Harry climbed into the driver's side while I was forced to take the second row of seating, inching downward in my seat so that I wouldn't have to see Klara's narky face through the passenger side window.

I think she is jealous that I've been tagging along with the group, and another part of me thinks they like me better. But this station still isn't my home and these officers still aren't my friends, so I have no right to barge in and force myself upon their relationships.

The car hummed up while igniting, a rock band lightly playing on the radio that caught my attention along with Harry's. He seemed fond of Artic Monkey's and their vibe, murmuring the lyrics under his breath while tapping a finger on the steering wheel.