Heavenly | H.S

85 | Styles

Niall Horan

The fresh smell of food coming from the plastic bags filled with tubs from the Indian takeaway filled my nostrils. With one hand, I held the handles of the too thin bag, with my other hand, I fumbled to find which pocket I'd left my keys in. My back trouser pocket, I realised eventually, and I unlocked the front door to my building and stepped inside, out of the wind of the cold evening.

I walked up the one flight of stairs that took me to my front door. My stomach growled for the food in my hand that I knew was going to hit every spot I needed it to.

"Yeah that's me just home now—" I muttered into the device that was balancing on my shoulder. My feet halted suddenly, cutting my words off. "What the fuck?"

"Language."

Jammed between my shoulder and my ear was my phone, with my mum's voice booming through the speaker after I'd cursed for her to hear.

"Sorry, ma." I apologised. She never liked it when I swore.

I set down the bag of food just inside of the door.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes. Yeah. Everything is okay." I replied, not wanting to worry her. "I'll talk to you later."

"Love you." she sung down the line.

"Love you too...Bye!"

"Bye. Goodnight."

I didn't have any sort of weapon on me, despite Harry telling me multiple times now that I should start carrying one on me all the time now, especially since I seemed to be one of Romans favourite targets to toy with. I didn't know how many more times I could survive him, I'd gotten lucky so far, and my luck was running out.

And whoever was here was alerted of my presence by hearing my conversation on the phone.

Someone was inside my flat, waiting for me. Waiting to kill me. Everything was so completely silent, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I kicked the door open a few more feet, allowing myself to peer inside to the living room. The room was empty, and if the intruder hadn't gone through all of my things, there should be a gun in the drawer of the coffee table. There didn't seem to be anyone, but if there was one thing Romans assassins knew how to do— it was disappear. There could be someone in the room, hiding, and I'd never know until it was too late.

My feet quietly carried me further inside the room, every step was slow, cautious, careful to not let the floorboards creek or my boots to thud too loud. But by some miracle, I managed to reach the coffee table, where my gun was still tucked away safely, fully loaded. I grabbed the weapon and held it securely in my hands, a little more at ease now that I knew I had a way to defend myself.

As I made my way further through my home, my feet stopped once again after only a few steps.

"What the..."

I hadn't noticed it until now, when I felt the stickiness on the bottom of my shoe. Blood. There was blood splattered all over my floor, a trail of it that led from the front door and through the living room, towards the kitchen. Like a wounded animal had dragged itself through the building.

I approached the kitchen, and that was when I heard noise, shuffling, movement. The presence of someone that wasn't necessarily trying to keep quiet.

And that was when I remembered that tonight, Harry had gone after Winter at some charity ball event. I remembered him telling me about it, how he wasn't even sure if she'd be there, but he had found something about this event in Marshall's calendar, and since she had disappeared after I'd left her in the safety of her friend, her friend that would eventually try to kill her. I didn't know how she did it. I didn't know how she could suffer so many betrayals, so many heartbreaks, so much torture and pain, and somehow she came out of it a good person. It truly believed that she was good, a good, kind person that was in a horrific situation. The way she acted around Harry, how she always had manners, was always polite with me and him and strangers. I remembered the morning she'd wandered downstairs and asked me so shyly if I'd take her to the shops to buy Harry some things for his birthday. How she was soft, caring, gentle, even though I knew she didn't see herself as such.