Achilles Heel |h.s|

07. Astar - Yes, Sir.

The darkness that enveloped me the second I stepped foot into the warehouse sent my senses into overdrive. I swore I could see shadows moving quickly through my peripheral but I knew that was just my mind making things up. The sound of water dripping from the rusted pipes that lined the ceiling of the narrow hallway echoed through-out the silent warehouse. It was dimly lit, dust particles flying freely through the air since they were kicked up by our movement.

Harry paid no mind to the shoddy conditions of the warehouse. However, I was drinking in every little detail. It was eerily silent as if we were the only two people to exist inside of the warehouse that had to be over twenty-three football fields long if you were to stack them on top of each other. The nervous feeling in my stomach re-appeared just from the silence alone. It was growing uncomfortable quickly but small-talk was something I didn't want with the man beside me. The silence seemed to make my thoughts start to run a marathon inside of my mind, creating the worst-case scenarios and causing my hands to lightly shake. I worked for the secret service. I needed to get my shit together.

We came to a stop outside of the heavy steel door, my eyes watching as Harry grabbed onto the latch and used his body weight to push it open since it was heavy. The creak was ominous, echoing just like every other sound did. I could now hear voices but they went silent upon hearing the creaking door being pushed open. That seemed to be happening a lot whenever I walked into a new place.

I stepped inside of the room after Harry. I had expected a crowd of people with how loud it was previously but my eyes landed on just four other guys. They had matching devil horns on the back of their necks and when they turned around I immediately recognised them.

"Oi, Harry. Is this the girl you and Zayn were speaking of?" A much shorter lad spoke up from the group, his striking blue eyes standing out from the way the dim light shone down on him. What was it with how dimly lit every part of the warehouse was? I decided to ignore his question, hearing Harry mumble something under his breath that sounded a lot like 'Fuck off, Tomlinson' but I couldn't be sure.

Zayn however answered for Harry, a smirk evident on his lips as his eyes slowly worked over the length of my body before making their way back up to rest on my face, specifically my eyes. "Yeah. That's her. Nice to see you again, Little Devil." He spoke, swiping his tongue over his lips to wet them.

The nickname didn't bother me one bit. If anything, I liked it. I remained silent, shifting my weight between my two feet, feeling what was now five pairs of eyes on me and they seemed to be assessing my every move. Five hawks and I was their prey, seeming unassuming but I was watching them just as much as they were watching me. However; this situation felt suspiciously like the intro to a shitty porno.

Eventually, the little group dissipated to reveal what was hidden behind them. It was a singular foldable metal chair and sat before the chair was a little table of sorts. A dim light once again hung directly over it to illuminate what was two bowls filled with a clear liquid which I automatically assumed was water.

"Do you want me to wash my hands or something?" A soft laugh left my lips as I felt my eyebrows furrow in confusion. Laughter erupted from all of the boys, making me even more confused.

"Something like that, little one." An Irish accent filled the air once the laughter had died down—even though I could still hear the laughter in his tone. I didn't find it funny and his patronising tone set me off.

Harry moved to take a seat before the table, connecting his hands together in front of him before he stretched them out to crack all of his knuckles at once. The sound that emitted from them sent a visceral reaction through my body, immediately having to clear my throat to avoid saying anything dumb.