Reckless {HS}

four

Harry's Pov

The club was crowded, bodies pressed together in the dim, pulsing light. Music vibrated through the air, loud enough to drown out any coherent thoughts. That was why I liked places like this—no one paid attention. Everything blurred together in a haze of music, alcohol, and flashing lights. It was easy to disappear here.

But not tonight. Not with her here.

I spotted her the second she walked in. Dark hair, loose and a little wild, wearing a dress that was too short for someone who didn't seem to want attention. She moved with her friends, laughing, like she was trying to pretend everything was fine. But I could see through it. She was out of place here. The way her eyes darted around, like she was looking for something—or someone—told me she wasn't here to enjoy herself.

I stayed where I was, leaning against the wall in the shadowed corner of the room, watching. It wasn't hard to keep track of her, not when every move she made was unsteady, like she was already halfway to being drunk. Her friends didn't seem to notice, or maybe they didn't care, too wrapped up in their own worlds. But I noticed. I saw everything.

I wasn't sure why I kept watching her. It had been a year since the bank job. I hadn't thought much about it since then. It was just another job, just another faceless crowd. Except for her. I hadn't forgotten her face, or the way her eyes had locked onto mine that day. Those wide, terrified eyes that told me she saw more than she should have. I didn't like being remembered.

But something about her stuck with me. Even now, watching her stumble through the club, I couldn't look away. Maybe it was the way she moved, reckless and a little desperate, like she was trying to forget something. Or maybe it was just the alcohol she kept throwing back, glass after glass, like she was trying to drink herself into oblivion. Either way, she had my attention.

I watched as she drifted from the bar to the dance floor, losing herself in the crowd. Her friends disappeared, leaving her alone, but she didn't seem to care. She was too drunk to care. Too drunk to notice that I hadn't taken my eyes off her all night.

I told myself it was just curiosity. After all, what were the chances of running into her again after all this time? It wasn't a coincidence. I didn't believe in coincidences. But I couldn't shake the feeling that she was looking for something. Or maybe someone.

My jaw tightened as I pushed off the wall, moving through the crowd without drawing attention. I kept my distance, but not too far. I could see her swaying on her feet, stumbling as she tried to keep up with the beat of the music. She was going to fall. I could tell. And when she did, she wouldn't have anyone there to catch her. Except me.

I was close enough now to hear her mumbling under her breath, something slurred and unintelligible. Her eyes were half-closed, barely focused on anything as she stumbled forward, colliding with people as she moved. They ignored her, like they ignored everything in this place. But I didn't.

I watched as she tripped, her foot catching on something, and her body tipped forward. Instinct kicked in before I could stop myself. I stepped forward, reaching out just as she was about to hit the floor. My hands caught her, one arm wrapping around her waist to steady her, pulling her back against me.

She blinked up at me, her eyes unfocused, and for a second, I thought she might not recognize me. But then I saw it—the flicker of something in her gaze. Recognition. It was subtle, but it was there. She didn't know who I was yet, not fully. But her mind was starting to put the pieces together.

"Careful," I said, my voice low. She blinked again, her lips parting as she struggled to stay upright. I kept my grip firm, not letting her go. She was too drunk to stand on her own, too drunk to think straight.

Her eyes met mine, and I felt that same pull I'd felt a year ago, when she'd looked at me during the robbery. Only this time, there was no fear in her gaze. Just confusion. And something else—something that looked a lot like recognition.

"I know you," she slurred, her voice thick with alcohol. She blinked up at me again, her eyes narrowing as if she was trying to focus. "I've... I've seen you before."

My jaw clenched. This wasn't what I wanted. She was too close to the truth, even in her drunken state. But I couldn't just let her fall. I didn't know why I cared, but I did.

"You don't know me," I said, my voice colder than I intended. I didn't need her asking questions. I didn't need her remembering. But she wasn't letting it go.

"No, I do," she insisted, her words slurring together. "You... and your friends. I've seen you."

I froze for a second, my grip on her tightening just a little. She was starting to piece it together, even through the haze of alcohol. I needed to get out of here, to walk away before she remembered more. But I couldn't. Something kept me rooted to the spot, my eyes locked on hers.

Then I saw it—the moment it clicked. The way her face changed, her eyes widening as she realized where she'd seen me. The bank. The robbery. She remembered.

"You were there," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the music. "You were at the bank."

I didn't answer. I couldn't. Instead, I did the only thing I could. I caught her before she fell.