Reckless {HS}

ten

Harry's Pov

I didn't expect her to be here.

Tonight was supposed to be simple. Another job, another score—nothing more than a routine. In and out. I'd done it countless times before, slipping in under the radar, taking what was mine without anyone noticing. My father had drilled that into me from the start. Stick to the plan. Keep your head down. But when I saw her walk into the ballroom, everything shifted.

Delilah.

I wasn't supposed to see her again, especially not here. She moved through the crowd like a ghost, out of place in a room full of people who thought they owned the world. That emerald green dress, hugging her figure in all the right ways, looked beautiful on her, but it didn't belong here, just like she didn't. I leaned against one of the marble pillars, hidden in the shadows, watching her as she hesitated at the edge of the crowd.

I should've kept my eyes on the prize—the diamond necklace displayed in the glass case across the room. It was supposed to be a quick job: slip in, lift the necklace, and disappear before anyone even knew what had happened. But my focus kept shifting, drawn back to her. I hadn't seen her since the club, and part of me had hoped she'd forgotten about me. Forgotten the robbery. Forgotten those green eyes that had burned into her memory.

But seeing her now, the way she scanned the room with that familiar tension in her shoulders, made me wonder. Did she know? Had she figured out who I was?

She downed her champagne like it was water, her hand trembling slightly as she set the glass back on the tray of a passing waiter. For a moment, I saw her take a deep breath, as if trying to calm herself. Then, with a quick glance around, she slipped out of the ballroom.

My instinct kicked in immediately. I couldn't help but follow her. It wasn't part of the job, wasn't part of any plan, but I couldn't let her out of my sight. Something about her made it impossible to walk away.

I kept my distance, moving through the lobby with ease. She didn't look back as she made her way to the elevators, her head down, lost in her own world. When the doors closed behind her, I waited for the next one, impatience gnawing at me. I had no idea where she was going, but I knew I needed to find out.

When I reached the top floor, the night air hit me like a wall. The rooftop was quiet, the soft hum of the city below barely audible. And there she was.

She was standing on the ledge, staring out at the skyline like she was searching for something in the distance. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, as if she was holding herself together by sheer force of will. The sight of her like that—so vulnerable, so lost—made something twist in my chest. I knew that feeling all too well.

I moved closer, my footsteps silent against the rooftop floor. When I was just a few feet away, I spoke, my voice low but clear. "Careful."

She flinched, spinning around to face me. The fear in her eyes was immediate, and I knew she hadn't expected anyone to follow her up here. But before she could say anything, her foot slipped, her body teetering dangerously close to the edge.

I lunged forward, grabbing her arm just in time to pull her back. The force of it knocked us both off balance, her body crashing into mine as I steadied us both. Her breath was ragged, her heart racing beneath my grip. For a moment, we were frozen there, standing on the edge of something far more dangerous than the rooftop.

"You okay?" I asked, my voice rougher than I meant it to be.

She stared at me, her wide eyes reflecting a mix of fear, confusion, and something else—something she couldn't quite place. Her fingers clung to my arm, and for a split second, I could feel the trust hanging in the air between us, fragile but real.

Then she whispered, "Who are you?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with expectation. I should've let go. I should've walked away, left her standing there with more questions than answers. But the way she looked at me—like she needed to know—kept me rooted in place.

I leaned in, keeping my voice low, my eyes locked on hers. "You're a smart girl, Delilah. You'll figure it out."

Her breath hitched at my words, and for a moment, she just stared at me, like she was trying to piece together the puzzle that had been haunting her since the robbery. I saw the flicker of realization in her eyes, the way her mind worked behind the mask of confusion.

For a moment, the tension between us was almost unbearable, the air thick with unspoken things. I could feel her pulse beneath my fingertips, her body tense against mine, like she was caught between running and staying.

But then, just as quickly as it came, the moment broke. She pulled away from me, taking a step back, her gaze darting between me and the door to the stairs. I didn't move. I just watched as she took off, her heels clicking loudly on the rooftop as she fled, disappearing into the stairwell without another word.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, standing there alone under the night sky.

I shouldn't have followed her. I shouldn't have spoken to her. But now it was too late. She was too close to the truth, and no matter how much I wanted to protect her from it, I knew she'd figure it out soon enough.