Poisonous grey h.s

1

"Have you no idea, that you're in deep"

3 years later

LILITH ANGELO

A loud ringing noise is what wakes me up this morning, coming from a distance. Who is calling this early? I turn around and walk to my wood dresser that my phone lays on, I pick it up before looking at the caller ID, something I would soon regret.

"Hello?" I slur out due to my lack of sleep weighing on me, who could even be calling me, It's Saturday.

"Lilith, sorry to wake you but we need you down at the station—Like now" The strong Irish accent spills through my speaker.

I groan loudly, already feeling annoyed "What's the problem? You better not say we have more background checks to do because I don't think I can even fathom doing that!"

I swear I can never get a day off, this irish blonde is getting on my nerves. I step out of bed and stretch my arms attempting to wake myself up a bit. Still tired, I'm yawning and adjusting the phone to my ear.

"You might regret saying that, we have a new case and it looks pretty hefty, none of us can even begin to figure it out, We're going to need you for this one" He sounds so desperate, I really have nothing going on today so I guess going in won't hurt too much, but he owes me.

"Give me at least thirty minutes and I'll be down. Also, this better be good, Niall" I roll my eyes. "Oh, it will be, I'll see you soon" his rushed hangup has me semi worried about what waits for me, but nonetheless.

I stagger over to my small bathroom and turn the lights on. The first thing that hits me is my red mane of hair that is sticking everywhere, this is a mess. I take my brush to it and pull it up in my best attempt at a ponytail, this is gonna have to work.

After dealing with that I walk to my wardrobe to pull out my short sleeved uniform, the early months of the summer heat had finally rolled around and I don't want to be sweating all day. After I clean up a bit I walk to the front door of my apartment and step on my work shoes, sliding my work bag onto my shoulder.

Pulling my door open I walk onto the small street of New York City, I don't want to walk but the bus is gonna be a massive wait.

Apart from me is excited about this case, don't get me wrong, I've had my fair share of fucked up cases but recently we have only had to deal with petty crimes, call me an asshole for wanting more but I didn't become a detective to sit at a desk all day.

I moved to New York three years ago, its a beautiful place but its people are a tad bit crazy and usually have a nasty attitude. Suddenly I feel a rough push to my left shoulder pulling me back to my reality and making me stumble to the side. Ouch.

"Watch where your fucking going!" A brown short-haired, tattooed man spits harshly from his lips making me jump slightly

"Do you talk? or are just gonna keep staring at me?" his voice is slightly slurred through his British accent. My statement about nasty attitudes is proving itself right now.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, you don't own the street last time I checked" I spit back at him, there is no way I'm gonna let him get away with talking to me like that.

Men on the street will try to get away with anything nowadays.

"Louis, at least that's who I think I am, and watch the way you talk to me sweetheart, don't want you getting hurt" The five-foot-seven man makes sure to bump into my shoulder before continuing his way down the street.