Harry Styles Oneshots

Reason to Stay [Mafiarry]

You come across a little something that Harry's been keeping from you.

Warnings: mentions of the mafia, descriptions of a gun and violence, swearing

WC: 2.8k

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He knows the rules by now. Head down, shoulders high. Let them know you by a name, never by yours.

Harry thought he was slick enough to pull that over your head, too. He should've known better. He can't live two separate lives, can't keep you in the dark from the main life he lives. He can't have you believing this fantasy forever.

But you knew, you knew since the beginning something was wrong – there was something he wasn't telling you.

All the "security" he has to follow you when you want to go out without him, the personal driver, and the random stop-ins from three "friends" in particular. And if that wasn't enough, the constant phone calls and change of phone numbers were enough to make anyone suspicious.

You trusted him, and never really had a reason not to. You've known Harry for years, as far back as you can remember. Even then, he was slightly shady, never giving much information about himself willingly.

But things are different now. You're moved into his home, riding in his cars. Harry knows your every move, claims there are too many bad people out there, and that he could never live with himself if something happened to you and he couldn't get to you in time.

Now, staring at the wad of cash that's been stuffed into the hollow wood of the foot of the bed, all of your suspicions are confirmed. Not a doubt in your mind when your eyes catch glimpse of the silver barrel of a gun peeking from beneath the money.

There's at least five grand there alone; tied together with elastic bands, and a separate wad wrapped with your hair tie.

From what you're aware of, it's not typical of a hotel owner to stash cash and a handgun in the foot of his bed.

You can't help but chuckle to yourself. Harry has a safe just six feet away in the back of the closet. You know why the gun's in the foot of the bed – easy access, just in case anything happens.

There's an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you can't quite tell if it's your gut telling you to run, or simply confirming that you were always right – you always knew there was something else deep down.

Harry's not supposed to be home for another hour, you don't know what to do with yourself in the time between.

Do you wait at the table for him when he gets home? Sitting there with the gun and cash laid out with your hands crossed? Do you put everything back and leave the top of the foot of the bed slightly out of place, so he knows that you know?

Or do you just pretend you didn't see a damn thing?

You can't live your life in a relationship with someone who keeps an entire lifestyle a secret from you. You can't be engaged to a man you barely even know.

Harry can't seriously have thought you wouldn't find out, right? That someone somehowwouldn't accidentally split up, or you wouldn't start asking questions or start snooping for answers?

Because you weren't snooping – not exactly.

An accidental knock at the foot of the bed when changing the sheets is what uncovered the truth. How pathetic. Not even a big reveal as to the secrets the man you love has been keeping.

Just your own accidental clumsiness.

But nothing is truly an accident, you believe that. Your intuition told you to lift the board and look into it, you could've just straightened the board back up, but you didn't.