Nameless // h.s. au

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Eight

*Hunter*

The bottle is half empty. The room is swimming as I stare at it with glassy eyes. And it's the early hours of the morning, I'm so tired but I can't sleep.

"I don't even work." I mumble, taking a large gulp from the bottle, watching the burning liquid dwindle.

"What do you mean?" His rings clink against the glass as he wraps his fingers around the neck of it and takes a drink. He cringes and I can tell he wishes it was scotch, even if it was cheap it would still be scotch. I just know he does. But Reina doesn't like scotch so we don't keep it in the apartment and Louis and Niall who practically live here are strictly beer and whiskey with the occasional tequila binge so there's no scotch here. None. Which means his lips won't taste like his, they'll taste like cheap vodka instead.

"I'm your assistant- which is still fucked up- I've been working at the Infinity for six-seven- six...months and I don't do anything. I do what Erin does and bring you coffee if that. I don't do anything. You should just fire me."

"Okay then you're fired." He laughs.

"Not like that you imbecile, you have to formally sit me down and tell me 'Miss Rowen it has been a pleasure having you on our staff, you are stunning- really- but you don't do shit so I need you to leave the premises or Brandon will escort you'." I steal the bottle back from him and wash away the words remaining on my tongue.

"Did you just call me an imbecile?"

"That I did. Now- like we rehearsed... go."

"But I want you with me. Work is boring without you." I pause from my excessive drinking to coo at him, in the process dribbling vodka down my chin and nearly choking, making Harry burst into a fit of laughter as I wipe my chin and feel my cheeks heat, "That was charming..."

"I am very charming thank you very much." I pause and place the bottle on the carpet, "That's why you want me around."

"To dribble on me."

"You love when I dribble on you." He nearly chokes on the innuendo and a laugh forces its way through my numb lips, "See now you're the one dribbling."

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before wiping it on my leg, like how you do when you're four and you're in public with your mother and she lets you wipe your snotty little nose on her shirt or something. She did it because she loved you and you had a snotty little nose and you were in public, plus she was your mother and she pushed you out of her vag so some snot is nothing. But that's a four year old and this is Harry.

"Ew Harold!"

"You love it when I dribble on you."

"Okay... one, that is my line and two, you are such a child." I'm fidgeting trying to get his spit off me when I feel a wet tongue on my cheek, "You didn't just lick me..."

"Oh but I did." A goofy grin pulls across his face and I'm sure mine matches. Everything about this moment is perfect, too perfect. This man in front of me is becoming my... everything. Even though he's a baby, angel, child with dribble on his chin. No matter how hard I try to delay the inevitable of falling off the cliff for this man, baby, angel, child I can feel where the floor ends right under my toes.

Sometimes I forget that this smiling, doting, man, baby, angel, child is really my boss. My boss who is six years older than me and probably has more money in his wallet than I will see in my lifetime. My boss who also, up until a month- no two months ago was screwing anyone with a pussy and pulse while I was in the next room. It's unlikely, it's deranged, but it's happening and I don't know what to do.