Harry Styles, a secret service agent working for British intelligence is tasked with finding the killer after a series of brutal but calculated murders across Europe. His mind is sharp, he's smart, arrogant and works with a precision that leaves no...
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Winter
The cold metal of the chair beneath me caused goosebumps to rise across my thighs and my arms. It was uncomfortable, everything about the position I was in was uncomfortable.
I'd been brought to The Secret intelligence service building by Harry and his friend– Niall whose name I learnt in the car on the way here. It had been a quiet ride on my part, I didn't say a word as they chatted about random things I paid no attention to, all had something to do with me, but I opted out of listening.
The room was dark grey, cold stone walls, a fluorescent light overhead casted a harsh glow that revealed all of the scratches on the table in front of me, evidence of all of the people who had sat in the exact same position as me before.
However, I could imagine that most people that had sat in this chair had been given the luxury of wearing clothes, which was something I didn't currently have. I was still in the baby blue lingerie set.
The silence was annoying me, I couldn't hear anything that was going on besides footsteps walking past the locked door and the occasional creak of the air vent in the corner of the room. I knew I was being watched, there was a two-way mirror on the opposite wall in front of me, I was looking at myself but I knew there would be unseen eyes on the other side watching me.
I ran my fingers over the cool surface of the table, tracing the scratches and imperfections, acting nervous about my situation as anyone would be. I felt like I had been locked in this cold room for hours, everything was supposed to feel uncertain, maybe they were deliberately trying to make me uncomfortable. My fingers still had the stains from the ink they had used to take my fingerprints earlier, I heard them talk about how quickly they needed the results back.
The door suddenly swung open with a rustic groan, disrupting the silence I'd been sitting in for the better part of half an hour. Two stern-faced people entered, one a woman with bright amber curly hair, and Harry, who had a stupid gloating expression, completely over the fucking moon that I was locked up right now. Harry took a seat on the opposite side of the table for me.
"Sorry about the wait." The female detective said to me. She placed some folded clothes on the table in front of me, "And we apologise for how you were brought in."
She was referring to the fact I was basically naked, nothing about my body was left to the imagination. Sheer blue lingerie. I'd never felt so naked in such a public space, beneath such bright lights. I shot Harry a glare, he was already looking at me with his teeth clenched, a deep crease between his eyebrows. I gave them an awkward smile and grabbed the clothes, quickly slipping them on to cover me. It was not an enjoyable experience having them both watch me as I dressed but it was a relief to not feel the cold metal chair against my bare skin, I warmed up almost instantly.
The same woman spoke again as she took her seat beside Harry. "Name?"
"Madison." I spoke, my voice quiet. I toyed with my fingers, nervously. "Williams, sorry. Madison Williams."
