Midnight Angel H.S COMPLETED

17

HARRY POV

My eyes squint open and I grunt, my ass numb as fuck. My head feels heavy but I know I haven't drunk anything for around a day now. My face creasing, my hands reach up to my head. There's a soft fragile material and almost immediately my head pings.

Peonies.

I try to move but something is on my lap keeping me in my place. Fuck. My face scrunched, I look down and Hazel's delicate face lays there. Her face glows from the ray of light through the boarded-up windows, her eyes softly shut. I hear a soft breath and part of me is relieved that she's okay. If she's not okay, I'm being killed.

I want freedom, not death.

Besides her body, her phone lies next to her, facing down. In the case, there's a peony petal and something inside of me makes me feel something that I've never felt. It's like my stomach is caving in but it doesn't hurt- it's different from pain. For fucks sake, Harry.

The floor damp as fuck, I put my hands by my side, looking up at the dripping ceiling. God, it's cold. The sound of water hitting the ground is making me go fucking insane. Usually, I bring alcohol or some type of drug with me but I didn't. Believe me, I considered it. Hazel has fucked me up.

Each time I see the girl, something in me aches. Her lips are screaming at me wherever the fuck I am and it doesn't matter whether I am high or not- although I'm always high. She's laying on my lap because I fucking wanted her to. When the fuck have I ever asked someone to lay on my lap? Yesterday, she weaved peonies into my hair and I let her. I didn't mind it. Why the fuck didn't I mind it? Oh, fuck she pisses me off.

Her head moves against my crotch making my head shoot down. Her eyes squeeze shut before she starts squinting them open, her eyes glowing in the light. Her eyes are a honey colour in the sun with warm tones of brown and green. And her eyes are looking into my green ones. Not frightened eyes, just calm ones. Her ones.

Shut the fuck up, Harry.

Being sober makes me study her. How her eyelashes are long and her nose fits perfectly on her face. Or how her lips are pink. And how her lips aren't screaming; maybe my ones are the ones that are screaming instead.

"Harry?" She speaks looking up at me.

My lips form a line and I stare at her. Her cheeks become a soft pink and I squint a little and I want to part eye contact though I don't. She confuses me. I confuse myself. I hate her so much yet all I want to do is have her in some unknown way. Some part of me wants to study her more. A small, subtle smile forms on her face and surprisingly, my lips want to do the same but I stop myself.

What the fuck do I want from her?

Styles, stop talking to yourself.

"We need to go." I say after making building myself up more. Her smile fades slightly and she opens her mouth to speak but nothing leaves her lips so she decides to close them. She nods timidly and gets up from my lap, the cold air now dancing where she once was.

Fucking hell Hazel, I wished I studied you more.

I get up too and we make our way out of the abandoned building. As soon as we step out of the damp place, the hot sun hits up so I put on the shitty sunglasses I stole. Hazel squints and smiles.

She turns to me and she smirks at me before snatching the sunglasses off my face and putting them on hers. And half of me wants to do anything but be calm about it but I can't. The other half won't let me. She turns away down the street where we came from and I tag along behind. The road ahead is empty except for the glowing body walking ahead of me.

We turn down a path and it's almost the opposite of the empty one. People swarm the streets and chatter fills my ears. She walks up to a sunglasses rack and takes some brown sunglasses with patterns rims. The edges of the sunglasses are pointed and when she slides them on, they fit her as if they were made for only her.

"You're gonna steal-"

Her head shoots up next to mine and her hand curls between my neck and shoulder. "Shh." she whispers. Sometimes I forget her occupation is the same as my own. When she backs up, she smiles then slides my black ones on my face again. And she almost skips, with a chirp to her, back to the house. And I trail behind her with a grin on my face.

*

I walk down the street full of unaware people as I lift up part of my shirt to adjust the gun in my pocket. I don't even like or use guns. The sun is still shining in the later hours of the day and although I'm wearing an airy shirt with minimal buttons, I'm still fucking overheating. But the adrenaline is keeping me together.

I check the road before crossing it, swerving through loads of innocent people. This little boy with light brown hair bumps into me and I look up at the mother holding his hand. She had sunglasses on and her scent is something that I used to know. She looks like my mum before things changed.

I could have been so much less fucked up if she fucking stayed the same.

I've realised I've stopped briefly as the mother watches me as she walks past. I shake the uncomfortable feeling off my shoulder before walking with the same strut.

Walking down the pavement, I see a pristine black vintage car and I immediately know he's already here. I check the time knowing I will be on time too.

The briefcase in my hand is almost 3 months' work. A small smirk is on my face as I walk into the outfit fitting shop and the lady at the front smiles at me. She nods and I walk straight through to the leader of the organisation.

"Harry, Harry!"

The room is completely empty and dull, the paint chipping off of the walls with a cheap table between us, the light shining on it. I place the briefcase on the table, opening it up, jewellery flowing out of it like waves on the ocean. "I need more time." I speak demandingly.

"More time? More time," He almost chuckles. "You already have three months. You don't need more time." He laughs, putting a joint in his mouth. Fuck him.

Anger sweeps through my body so my head shoots up to his, our foreheads touching. "They're moving on us quicker than you intended. In three months, not only will she be wiped out, so will the rest of us."

We stay there, his damp, revolting breath on me. If I could hurt him, god I would. But if I did, I'd be worse off. Everything I ever fucking say is always the worst thing anyone could ever say to him. I have every fucking reason to pull out the gun from my back pocket. "Three more months."

I back off, not expecting him to give in so easily. He nods, cueing my leave but I know three months isn't enough time. Not nearly fucking enough. I open my mouth to speak but choose to close it again, pressing my lips together. I look around, the bodyguards eyeing me with a frown so I nod and walk out.

We need to plan this, otherwise, this is the end of the organisations.