CLOSER | H.S.

34.

Harry's pov.

"Let me clip your dirty wings."

Polly - Nirvana

-

I woke up later that night panting, with sweat dripping down my temples and my hair glued to my neck. I looked to my left, where the watch on my bed stand shone 3:32 in the morning. It was already Wednesday for me and nothing could remove the misery out of my brain.

I sat on my bed, pressing the palms of my hands against my face and tugging on the roots of my hair. I quickly made a loose bun as I carefully moved so I wouldn't wake up the blonde burden.

I finally left the room, walking aimlessly around the unecessarily gigantic house, my unconscious taking me straight to the bar. I stared at the many drinks, thinking of the several ways I could kill someone with them. I could break one of them onto a person's head, with the broken glass, cut their throat. I could dip the alcohol and with just a lighter they would burn to death; or I could easily give them alcohol poison.

I grunted, feeling all of this energy and anger built up inside of me for several months, begging to be released. I knew the time would come when I'd have to do it, sooner or later. But I held it all in for another day, trying to distract myself with other things when the sun rises.

I planned on going to Zayn's house to chill out for a bit after lunch, maybe that would help.

I was sitting on my desk in the Styles' agency when my secretary rang me. "Luna?" I answered.

"Yes, Harry, there's this boy called Gabriel here looking for you. He looks strange, drogadicto!" Her used voice filled my ears in a rough tone, as though she was harshly whispering to the phone.

"Luna, please don't call me Harry at work." I closed my eyes searching through my mind what the Hell she was trying to tell me without the boy knowing so. "Do you mean he's drugged? As in high?"

"Sí, Mr Styles. Me está asustando, I'm calling security!" She said the words as fast as a bullet and I quickly stopped her.

"No, Luna, let me see who the boy is. Let him in", I told her sternly and a few moments later I saw the too familiar face entering my office.

I got up in a jump, furiously stepping towards Gabriel, fisting his shirt and gritting my teeth. "What the fück do you think you're doing here? Do you want to ruin me?" I threw him on the floor with every strength I had and the boy winced as I stepped on his chest with my designer boots. "Give me one good reason not to kill you."

"Mister!" He raised his shaky hands. I was infuriated and the boy had a pee spot on his pants. "The Mexicans are here! It's urgent!"

"You fucking worm!" I kicked his sides and he knew better than yelling in pain. Gabriel covered his mouth and complained quietly instead. "The Sinaloa are probably on your fücking asshöle right now and you risk everything by coming here and exposing me?"

I felt my whole head burn from anger, I did what my instincts told me and punched Gabriel's nose. "I'm sorry!" He weakly pleaded.

"I want you out of here before this bleeds, and I want you to tell my men to get munition. You better not be here by the next time I blink."

The boy got up clumsily, leaving my office rather giddy, but as fast as he could. I huffed, swiftly walking to my window and searching for any kind of suspicious behaviour on the people on the streets, thankfully finding nothing but hurried business men and women trying to get in time to their destinations.

I sat back on my comfortable chair, only hoping to get back to work in peace, but my second phone (the disposable one I use for my illegal business) rang as soon as my ass hit the soft leather of the seat.