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
After making our cold, damp walk back to the car once we were out of the water, Harry and I changed into clean, cosy clothes that we'd brought with us. We were in the middle of nowhere, on the side of the road, and I'd hidden behind the open door of the car while Harry shielded me from the outside as I changed out of my wet underwear and into a hoodie and joggers. I'd tried to scrunch out most of the water from my hair before getting into the car, Harry had done the same, except his hair had turned into a frizzy untamed mess. Once we were driving again, he'd put on the heated seats to warm us up.
We'd driven for just over an hour before leaving the motorway and turned off into his hometown. I had no idea why it fascinated me so much. It was just houses, roads, small corner shops. The streets were filled with people walking their dogs, or with their kids and families. It was just different from the city. The people seemed different, as did this life. If ever I was in a town, I paid no attention to the people or the things because none of it interested me, until now. Because this was his home, where he'd grown up.
Eventually, Harry pulled the car to a stop. I glanced out of the front window, slightly confused. I'd expected to stop in front of a flat, since I'd just assumed he meant he lived in the city of Manchester, or I'd expected to stop in front of a normal row of town houses.
"Home sweet home." Harry let out a contented sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard a cow mooing.
"A farm?" I took in my surroundings, specifically the barn a little distance to my left. It was filled with cows. On my right, a field with sheep scattered around, causally chewing on the grass. A few spring lambs hopped around after their mothers, exploring the new world.
"Yup." he seemed amused at my expression as I darted my eyes around his home. Straight ahead was the house. It was bigger than I thought it would be, and looked so homely, even from the outside. "Were you expecting a penthouse?"
"No." I shook my head. "I just... didn't know you lived on a farm."
"You never asked." Harry said as he reached into the back seat of the car where Bean was sleeping.
"It's very... sludgy." I glanced out of the window beside me, specifically down at the ground. Surrounding the car, and seemingly the entire path from the car to the front door of the house was thick, wet mud. I couldn't help but screw my face up at the sight of it.
Harry had finished rummaging around in the back of the car, finally grabbing what he'd been looking for. When he sat back up, he held up something in front of me. A pair of wellies, a murky green colour. "And that's what these are for."
Moments later, he'd slipped them onto his feet and hopped out of the car, landing on the mid with a disgusting squelch sound. He sank down at least an inch or two into the wet ground, the wellies provided protection as he stepped, and the mud splashed up his legs.
