21 Murders | Harry Styles AU (discontinued)

XXV. Curiosity

curiosity (noun): a strong desire to know or learn something

Noelle's POV

"Hey Harry,'' I glance up to offer him a kind smile. Barely returning it, he sighs and walks up to my side in front of the large cork board. Kicking a few sheets of paper from the floor, his hand wrestles with his hair and I can tell something is wrong.

"Are you okay?" I turn to ask, seeing how stressed he looks. At this rate, it is as if the time away caused him more stress. He still doesn't answer, gazing up at the graph Royce and I made, instead. "Harry?" I poke his side.

"Oh, hey,'' his smile is barely there and doesn't come close to reaching his eyes. Before I can repeat asking him what's wrong, we are interrupted by Royce behind us, his throat being cleared and a sheet of paper being tacked to the heaping load already posted.

"What is all this?" Harry finally speaks up, directing his attention to his fellow co-worker and motioning back to the large board with many extra pins and notes added. I managed to clear most of the floor of sheets of paper and files, but in my haste, I also couldn't stop thinking about the accidental over-hearing with Estelle earlier this week.

I want to ask Harry what the hell his father would want swapped and shredded, but the ground beneath me warns me not to confront him about it; I'm afraid if I do, I might just be swallowed up. Guilt does play a role in my heart, though.

Harry has been nothing but considerate and honest to me ever since the beginning. He hasn't hidden anything from my knowledge- other than the facts that could potentially hurt me- and here I am hiding something regarding his father from him. Unless Harry already knows and is trying to help keep it secret?

The thoughts create havoc in my already unsettled mind.

"We spent the day making assumptions and creating theories,'' Royce speaks up, replying to Harry's previous question. My attention is lifted back from previous thoughts and I cross my arms, listening in on their discussion.

"What did you find?" Harry inquires, seeming very comfortable in his laid-back attire. I don't think there has been a time that I've seen him in normal every day wear. He's always adorned in an old N.Y.P.D. shirt and cargo jeans. Boots most of the time accompanying this look.

"There was a breech in the system and we have to file a warranted court order to see exactly what was stolen and who it was stolen from,'' Royce sighs, scratching his forearm and biting his lip. "A warranted court order could take up to weeks, though. If we're lucky, three. The sooner we can get that information, the better."

"Okay,'' Harry nods. "I'll talk to my father and make some calls."

"I'll come with you,'' I voice, earning a squinted look from Harry in return. Royce slips away from our huddle and goes to work on his computer, while I lower my voice to whisper, ''We can ask about my schooling, then."

"Noelle, this isn't a good time to ask right now."

"When will there ever be a good time?" I degrade, slightly disappointed. Part of me was hoping he'd agree without a question asked or hesitation toward the subject, but of coarse that isn't the case as he fiddles with his watch and sighs.

"I suppose you're right, but let me do the talking, all right?"

"Okay, yeah sure,'' I over-excitedly nod.

Without speaking to Royce or letting him know we're leaving, Harry leads me out of ops and down the long corridor. Soon, we're stood outside the office door to his father's study and I can feel the tension radiating off of Harry's firm stance.