Deliverance [h.s.]

seventy-one | him, her, them

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

Work Song || Hozier

*************

Harry's P.O.V.

6 Days Left

I've been a connoisseur of dark liquor since I was 18.

Well, not so much the alcohol but more so the glass it's served in.

When i was first working with Steele, he sat me down for some good ol' scotch and i'd never seen such a cool fucking glass. It's the same glass I'm looking at now as I stand alone in his office so many years later.

I always told myself when I had my own house, a nice place to live, I would buy glasses like these to 'savor my life'.

I still haven't bought the glass but could you imagine how fucking cool it'd be if I had?

Maybe this is a sign in my life to say fuck it and buy them or maybe i'm just really fucking anxious and want to spend stupid amounts of money to feel better.

Yeah, probably that.

This morning while Grey was still laying in bed, pretending to sleep like she always does when she's upset, I got a call from Steele. He told me to come by today, that he had something to speak to me about and I agreed, with the condition that I also had something to speak to him about.

I left some odd hours later without telling her where I was going. She asked and asked again until I finally walked out the door with a simple 'see you soon'. I should've said where I was going, I don't know why I tried to keep it a secret. I guess I just don't want her to talk me out of what I have to say to Steele right now. I know she wouldn't approve and it would have made it all the more difficult.

So instead of acknowledging my guilty conscious, here i am, snooping around Steele's office like a little fucking rat while i wait for him to arrive to the meeting that he scheduled.

Just as I was about to pick up the glass, the sound of the door flying open had me jumping out of my skin. I peeked over my shoulder, eyes wide to see Steele entering his office as fashionably late as possible.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He stands in the doorway, looking at me with a sort of unamused finesse.

"What the fuck are you doing, old man? Did you lose your walker on the way here? Your scooter die on the ride over?" I spot back on the defense.

He sauntered over to his desk, dropping his briefcase to the floor, "Better watch your lip, kid. You're gonna age just like the rest of us but if you keep talking like that I'll make sure you're forever 26."

I shake him off with a quiet laugh, settling in the chair across from him as he gets his space set up. His threats, for the most part, are empty, pointless jabs. Our relationship has been strained lately for more reasons that i can count but today isn't about that; its about whatever the fuck he and I both seem to need.

Sitting in his leather chair, he clasps his palms together with an anticipating sigh, "So, what is it you need?"

"Why do I have to start? You're the one that called me at the dick of dawn this morning."

"Well, since I'm a gentleman, I insist; ladies first."

"You're a real piece of shit you know that?" My tone is flat but his face is full of light as he forces back a chuckle.