Evidence of Us.

4

Harry sprinted after the woman. He and Niall had received a tip from their informant: one of the gang members working with the mysterious man was setting up a deal beneath one of London's bridges. Without wasting a second, they rushed to the scene, prompting the woman to take off running. One small detail—they didn't know she was armed. In a split second, she spun around and fired three shots, one of which struck Harry in the arm. "Fuck." he groaned in pain, stopping in his tracks. Niall rushed over to him, letting the woman escape. He didn't care, though—his friend's well-being was more important than catching a criminal. "Harry! Are you okay?" Niall exclaimed, his voice laced with concern. "You need to go to the hospital!"

"It's nothing, Niall," Harry replied dismissively, but the pain was evident in his eyes. "You let her slip away! We can't afford to lose her. We need something to hold against them."

Niall shook his head, frustration creeping into his expression. "I understand that, but your health comes first! We'll catch her next time, I promise. You need to focus on getting better."

Harry scowled, torn between his urgency and his friend's worry. "I can't just sit back and do nothing."

"You can and you will," Niall insisted, his voice firm. "You know the boss won't allow you to work with a bullet in your arm." The green-eyed man rolled his eyes, exasperated. As always, his friend was treating him like a child, hovering over him with the kind of concern usually reserved for a mother.

A few hours later, Styles lounged on the couch in his apartment, flicking through channels in search of something to watch. His arm, now bandaged and treated by a skilled doctor that Niall had insisted on bringing him to, throbbed faintly—a reminder of the chaos earlier in the day. He sighed in frustration, just as his phone buzzed. A text notification flashed on the screen, and he picked it up to see a message from Nicolas. It hit him then—he had completely forgotten about their plans to meet up.

"Hi, H. Are our plans for today still on?"

Harry groaned, guilt washing over him. He despised the thought of canceling on his newly made friend, especially when he had been looking forward to their time together.

"Sorry, I got into a little accident at work. Can't leave my apartment." he texted back.

"Then maybe I can come visit you? We can watch some movies or something." Nicolas replied.

Harry hesitated for a moment. He barely knew the guy, but something about him felt reassuring. After a brief internal debate, he decided to send his address, eager for the distraction and company.

An hour later, a knock echoed through the apartment. Harry got up from the couch, hastily tying his long, curly hair into a loose bun to look a bit more presentable for his visitor. He opened the door to reveal Nicolas, who stood there in gray sweatpants, a black t-shirt, and an oversized jacket. Harry felt a flutter of nerves as Nicolas's blue eyes roamed up and down his form. "Come in," he said, stepping aside to let him enter.

"I brought us some pizza. I thought you might like it." Nicolas said, handing Harry the box of food. Harry smiled, grateful for the gesture. "Thanks, that's really nice of you." he replied, watching as Nicolas slipped off his shoes and took off his jacket. He guided him to the living room, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch. He headed to the kitchen to grab some plates and drinks. "What movie do you want to watch?" he asked, setting everything down on the table in front of his guest. "I don't know, and I don't really care. You can choose something," the blue-eyed man replied, his gaze drifting to the bandages peeking out from under Harry's shirt. "What happened to you?" he asked, pointing to his arm.

"Oh, it's nothing," Styles replied with a nervous chuckle, eager to downplay the situation. The last thing he wanted was for Nicolas to find out that he couldn't do his job properly and had been shot by some random woman. It would be too embarrassing to explain.

"Come on! You can't just brush it off. It doesn't look like nothing," Nicolas exclaimed, gently taking Harry's arm to inspect the injury. He winced at the touch, a jolt of pain shooting through him.

"Jesus, fine. I got shot during the chase. It's nothing serious."

Louis feigned a worried expression, but inside, he was smiling. He knew it was Julia who had shot him, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her actions. Harry was being so annoying, acting childish and stubbornly refusing to let him see the injury. It was difficult for him to maintain a facade of kindness and interest in this green-eyed man, but he knew he had to do it.

"It's not nothing! Something serious could have happened to you." he continued with his act, his voice laced with feigned concern.

"I'm fine; it wasn't a serious wound." Harry replied honestly, taking a bite of his pizza. "Let's just enjoy our evening. I think I've found a movie we can watch." He deftly changed the subject, and the rest of the night unfolded smoothly, with both men laughing at the movie. The tension eased as they shared jokes and commentary, the lightheartedness making the evening feel enjoyable.