21 Murders | Harry Styles AU (discontinued)

XXIII. Accommodate

accommodate (verb): fit in with the wishes or needs of

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Noelle's POV

I await patiently in the hall for only a few more moments before I'm greeted with a kind Estelle, smiling and clicking closed the heavy door behind her. The sound of her heels upon the concrete echo in my mind, though, and the way she squinted at me when I held the folder out to her.

"You're lucky,'' she starts. "I was just coming on break. Are you hungry?"

"Uh, yeah,'' I shake off the torturing thoughts that she could be working in the dark for Des, and smile. With a polite nod, she gestures down the hall to the new break room. My hopes fall to my feet slightly as I realize the severity of this situation.

I know deep down that Estelle is a kind woman, she basically raised Harry- therefor- she can't be the monster I am making her out to sound like, but the sights are too fresh in my mind to just disappear into the air that easy.

As crooked as this department may be in Harry's eyes, I never thought about the mole being her. I rock back and forth on my heels once we make it to the break room on the other floor, Estelle sauntering off to the counter to order us some muffins and what I assume to be lattes.

"Let's sit back here,'' I tell her and her shoulders relax.

"So, what's up?" Elstelle's elbows then find the surface of the shiny counter and sipping on her latte, her eyes trail up to meet mine in expectancy. "Harry giving you heart trouble?"

I laugh slightly at her question. If only she knew.

"That is one way to put it,'' I confess. "I noticed that he is very different when he comes to work than when he is at his place. It is kind of juvenile of me,'' I pause slightly. "But I can't help myself but to wonder about him when he was little."

"Ah,'' she tilts her head back in understanding. "That is what this is about, isn't it?"

I give a meek smile in return and she just chuckles, tucking a strand of dyed hair behind her ear and speaking, ''I knew there had to be some background reasoning to why you'd come to me. So what do you want to know?"

I ponder over this question. Last time I had had a one-on-one with Estelle, Harry ended up over-hearing the last half of the conversation. That then enticed his knowledge on my specific liking toward him. That was a mess, but it needed to be said either way. I don't take it back now, but I do remember the intensity in his eyes and the actions that were then caused from that exact situation.

"Who is Fred Muller?" I ask, dipping my finger into the whip cream on my un-touched drink. Estelle bites her lip in thought, but shrugs and crosses her legs.

"He is an old friend of Des' and Harry's mother. I assume because he was in the force with Des before they both split off and became other things. Harry has never taken a liking to the man, though, for reasons unknown to me. Personally,'' her voice deepens. "The man's a blabber mouth."

A real laugh falls from my lips at her childish way of speech. I still feel slightly uneasy, but the casual conversation has taken me to a place of what I like to call: "Harry Land." My thoughts of seriousness evaporate into the air while my mind is shifted into this gear of finding out the truth behind Harry's undiscovered depths while in this so-called paradise.

"He likes to gossip?" I question, picking back up on the current conversation. Meanwhile Estelle has eaten half a muffin and shoved one in front of my face.