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
"You still feeling okay?" Harry's palm was resting on the same spot of my lower spine as it had been for the entire night.
We'd had dinner, I'd recovered from his fucking fingers and now we were in some big ballroom. Everyone was drinking, dancing, partying to celebrate the new year. I had no idea what time it was, but knew it had to be close to midnight. It felt like we had been here for hours already.
We were sitting outside of the hotel on a wooden bench. Our bodies pressed together to keep warm against the freezing night air. Harry had wrapped his blazer around my shoulders since my coat had been put away into the cloakroom. In each of our hands was another glass of red wine, I'd lost count of how many I had tonight but it was expensive and tasted so fucking good. Both of us were fucking plastered. Him better at hiding it than I.
The muffled sound of laughter and music floated through the door, outside was unusually quiet. Everyone in the city was inside, at bars, clubs, drinking like tomorrow wouldn't ever come. My nose was freezing cold, but the rest of my body was unusually fine, the alcohol working as a warm blanket.
I took a sip of the wine, savouring the taste. I wanted to savour all of this.
We sat in complete silence, but for once I didn't feel awkward in silence. Maybe it was because there was so much nose inside of my head, so many thoughts and feelings. All of my senses were heightened. Through the large windows, we could see the party, the lights, the decorations sparkling, the movements of peoples carefree and drunken dancing.
"I'm good. I'm really good." I nodded. It wasn't a lie. I'd never been to something like this before. Yes, I had been to clubs, bars, and parties. But there was something about this that was different.
"You don't seem as stressed anymore." he commented, twirling the wine in his glass. His was almost empty, mine wasn't. I was taking this one slow. "But that could have something to do with the two bottles of red wine."
Earlier, after dinner and a few songs where I did nothing more than watch people dance, I said I was going to go outside for a bit. I didn't want to leave, a little part of me never wanted this night to end, but I would never admit it out loud. But all of the noise, the laughter, the music, the people—it had all become a little bit too much. I needed fresh air, a little minute of silence to gather myself before we went back inside. Harry hadn't hesitated and insisted on joining me.
"I'm having fun," I hummed, taking in a breath. When I exhaled, I saw the air leave my lips. "We can go back inside."
He turned to me with a subtle grin. "Yeah?"
I hummed again, closing my eyes. Just to feel everything around me. "Mhm."
I stood up from the bench, suddenly eager to get back inside to experience this night in full. I didn't want to miss out on a single thing, not one song, not one drunk person singing karaoke. Just as my feet planted on the floor, one of my feet gave out beneath me. From the uneven cobblestone ground, the heels. In reflex both of my hands shot out to catch myself as I quickly realised I was plummeting to the ground. The crystal glass fell from my hand and shattered on the ground beside me.
