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 chill of the night air nipped at my fingertips and my cheeks, causing a shiver to ripple down my spine. I stood outside of the door to Harry's building, feeling my heart pounding against my ribcage. I didn't get nervous. Ever. Not when I was thrown into a place I'd never been before, when I had to murder someone without a single person seeing. Not when I had to find my way through dangerous situations and kill men double my size. But I was nervous to knock on the door. I felt exposed, despite the white fur jacket I had on to keep me warm in the freezing air. My feet were squished into some stilettos, my toes already going numb to the cold. I regretted my choice of shoes as soon as I was outside.
The long, silky pale pink dress I had chosen for tonight clung to my body, too thin to provide me any sort of warmth. My fingers toyed with the delicate strap, the soft fabric sliding between them. It felt like hours ago that I stood in front of my mirror, analysing every tiny part about myself before I left to arrive on time.
There was already a faint hum of distant fireworks, people setting them off early, celebrating before the rest of the world. It only reminded me more of what I had agreed to go to, for reasons beyond me, I was here.
The door loomed in front of me, feeling like a literal barrier between my nerves and the potential to have a good night. A party. With more than just him, with the people he worked with. The people who were out to get me. But that was the thrill of it all. There was an equal feeling of longing and fear as I raised up my hand, hovering my finger over the button to buzz Harry's flat.
I pushed the buzzer, feeling the quickening pace of my heart as I waited. The seconds stretched into what felt like hours. The door in front of me opened and unlocked. I pressed my palm flat to it, pushing it to allow myself into the building.
My breath hitched in my throat as I stepped into the softly lit hallway and caught the sight of him at the top of the stairs, already waiting for me with the door open.
There he was, leaning casually against the doorframe, a faint light casting a golden hue on his chiselled features. It was as if he had stepped right out of a dream, he had the ability to look like a vision too perfect to be real. As always, his suit was impeccably tailored, hugging his broad shoulders and accentuating the lean, muscular frame underneath. The silk black shirt beneath a matching black jacket was undone halfway down, allowing the tattoos littered across his chest to peak out. He ran a hand through his tousled, curly hair, the movement drawing my eyes to the veins along the backs of his hand and his ring-adorned fingers. His biceps seemed to strain against the fabric when he flexed his arm, clenching and unclenching his fist.
But it was his eyes that made me feel as if I was held captive. Deep and intense, they locked onto mine with a gaze that had a shiver running down my spine. His lips curled into a slow, devastating smirk. I knew I was already done for when I caught sight of his dimples, they made my knees weak.
