Amid [ h.s ]

65

tw// mentions of sexual assault, physical abuse, descriptive violence & blood.

Harry Styles

"Fuck yeah." Was all Oliver said as I hung up nodding leaving the house making sure I locked it before I did leave, as I now stood in front of his apartment complex as I watched him walk towards the car with a bat in his hand.

"A bat?" I chuckle. 

"You barely gave me time to prepare, fuck off." He rolls his eyes. 

He sits down quietly without saying a word putting his seatbelt on. I immediately start the car almost pacing through the street, "Was this your plan to tempt me to fuck someone up but instead kill me?" He says referring to my speed.

"Maybe." I say without any hesitation.

"You're boring. If I had to kill someone I'd at least do it with proper planning." He rolls his eyes.

"Oh yeah and how would you do that?"

"Two things. One, make them trust you and two, have an alibi when you're killing them, a strong one."

"Well legally that wouldn't work you know that." I respond. 

"Just saying. I've seen people commit some good ass fucking murders with no remorse but they just don't know how to lie." He states brushing his hand through his hair trying to look good.

"Nothing you do to that hair will make you look good so why try?" I roll my eyes.

"Oh take a break will you? You look like shit anyways." He snaps back.

I tap my fingers on the steering wheel taking a right turn as I till my head looking at him through the corner of my eye in anger.

"Have you been crying harry?" He jerks his back forwards trying to get me to look at him.

"No."

"You have haven't you?" He irritates.

"Look just because I called you remember this doesn't mean I suddenly like you and I'm going to tell you every fucking thing." I spit.

"Who said I like you?"

"Makes two of us." I hum.

"One more thing." I look at him as I realize we finally reached the address I asked Jim to text me.

"Alright No fucking questions." I make sure as I realize we finally reached the address I asked Jim to text me. 

Alex's house. The guy who sexually assaulted my fucking girlfriend.

This is few minutes he gets to himself until I arrive at his doorstep, fucking his whole life up for him. Again if you fuck with someone I care about, you're as good as dead.

But making them suffer is just fun right? Seeing them cry in pain when you know they were the same person who inflicted a life time of pain on someone you give a fuck about is a beautiful view if I might add.

"So how do we fuck them up?" Oliver asks looking at me as he notices I had parked the car a little further than the house.

"Do whatever you want. Just don't kill them. Torture yes." 

"Done. Have a lot of pent up anger always. Yes if you're asking you're half the reason why."

"Oh take a break will you? You seem obsessed with me at this point."

"I'd rather eat shit." He responds. 

"Go ahead no one's stopping you." I roll my eyes at him getting out the car.