Top Secret 2[ON HOLD]

Chapter Six:

Harry's POV:





"We need you to go to Paris, France." Chief Masterson says.





"Why there?" I ask.





"We have intel that Rosalia may or may not be there but considering the fact that it's a place she'd most likely be in, we need to send you in." He explains.






"What do I need to do?" I ask.





"We are sending you there tonight, as of now actually. I will brief you on the mission on the way to the jet." He says, walking me down the long hallway.






"I remember telling Rosalia the same thing when she came for you and the boys." He says, remembering her.





"You did?" I ask.






"She wasn't too excited since we had woken her up and made her leave the house she has been in love with. I remember her complaining about babysitting a bunch of spoiled boy band members. I see now, how much you were able to change her mind. I don't think she was expecting to fall in love with you." He says, patting my shoulder.





"How did you know?" I ask.





"It's in a folder behind your briefing folder. I knew you'd want to see some of our emails. Some of the things she said about you guys, I really do thank you for loving her the way you did. She needed it." Chief says, showing me onto the jet.






"Wow, nice jet." I say.






"It was hers." He smiles.






"I'll keep in touch." I say, sitting down.





"Have a good flight, son." He says, getting off.





*



After a few hours of flight, I got off the plane and I was directly shown to a luxury car. The inside looked like it was armored.






These guys really do think and have everything, don't they?






I arrived at my safe house in a building near the Eiffel Tower. It was a very small apartment but it had everything I needed to be ready.





Once I had everything set up, I sat down at my desk and read through the folder that read "Top Secret."





"Harry,




This is your first mission, and I trust that you won't let the agency down. There will be a gala held at the mansion you are going to. It's rumored to be Rosalia's hiding place.




The gala attire is 17th century France. This is a party this family holds every year on the same date, and time. Tonight is that night. No time for sight seeing, and socializing. You are going to be met with one of our clothing designers and she will have an outfit ready for you tonight. It's going to be an odd outfit, but I'm sure the ladies will love it on you. You will need to wear blue eye contacts, and slick your hair back so no one can tell its you. If anyone found out Harry Styles was there, there would be an issue.




Bring her home, Harry."






Oh god. I can't wait to see this outfit.






*



Lia's POV(I'm calling her Lia because its shorter.):





"Why do I have to wear this?" I ask, annoyed with the dress of choice by my sister.




The dress was a 17th century French outfit. "Only worn by royals, is the style." Eclaire tells me. It was a ruby red color, it was absolutely huge but it was fitting in all the right places.




Eclaire had done my hair to make it look like it would in the old times in France.





"No doubt the agency will be here looking for me." I say, annoyed.





"Don't worry, now put in these blue contacts. Your eyes are a really dark green, so no one will notice you with crystal blue eyes. I am almost done with you. Just one more..swipe of..yay! Perfection!" She squealed.






I look at myself in the big mirror and somewhat like what I see. I'm not used to 17th century French wear.





Time to get on with this night.





"I want you to meet someone when he comes tonight. He's absolutely beautiful." Eclaire says. "I think you would like him, a lot."






I don't want anyone but Harry..





*





It's about 9pm and the party is actually pretty nice. The chandeliers are hanging flawlessly from the ceilings, the huge glass windows showing the lake behind and the stars are amazing. You could see the Eiffel Tower from here.






Champagne was being served around the clock, and so were little pastries. I haven't eaten much tonight because I've been walking around and searching for anyone from the agency.






"Lia!" Eclaire shouts from the area of the room near the table of food.






"Meet Luke, Luke this is Lia." She introduces me.





Luke was tall, tan, and very handsome. His hair was flowing over his face, his chiseled features were very cut and nice for lack of words. He smiles and his teeth were show stoppingly white and his eyes were a crystal blue like my own.






He bends over and grabs my hand, pulls it to his lips and his lips kiss my knuckles. As he comes up he says, "good evening, miss" in a gracious French accent. (Picture Zac Efron)






"H-hello." I say, clearly caught up in the soaring.





"Are you alone tonight?" He asks, smiling.






"Yes, I am." I reply.





"Would you care to dance?" He asks, holding his hand out.





"Uh, sure." I say, taking his hand as he leads me to the middle of the dance floor.






Luke had his one hand on my back, and the other held mine in a swift ballroom dance. I had my hand on his shoulder and the other holding his.





The floor was gold and marble, it was beautiful and I was afraid of scuffing it with my heels.





"You are very beautiful." He smiles.





"So is your accent." I say, smiling.






"I get that a lot, listen I know why you're here. Eclaire is a good friend of mine. We grew up together. Your mother and my mother were best friends. You and I never met because you stopped coming after a while, so it was just Eclaire and I." He says.






"Oh wow, you two really did grow up together then. I wish I was able to see it." I say, sadly.






"You're here now, that's all that matters." Luke says.






As the night went on, I kept seeing a man in a black Frenchman's outfit. He looked as if he was a French soldier or something. He was beautiful. Chocolate brown hair, tan skin, and shining blue eyes. I couldn't help but notice him standing by the staircase every time Luke and I swung around the floor.





He looked at me every time I looked at him, and I couldn't help but feel like I knew him somehow.





I couldn't figure out who he was, but I was curious.





Luke leaned in and kissed me on my lips, and I was in shock. That was completely uncalled for and completely unexpected too. I hadn't kissed anyone but Harry since I left London and I couldn't stand kissing someone else.





"Look, I don't know who you think I am but I'm not her. Okay? Do not kiss me when I meet you just five minutes ago." I say, pulling away from him.




I looked at the staircase and the man was gone. He had disappeared right from my sights.





I looked everywhere and I couldn't find him. I went up the stairs, around the stairs, by the table, in every room that this mansion had. Nothing, absolutely nothing!






I got upset and went outside on the balcony. No one was here, because it was hidden by removable glass doors. You could see in but not see out.






I looked out on the lake, and then looked up at the moon. I was feeling a motion of self pity and couldn't help but feel sad. I left the one person who made me happy, just so I could see this family I never knew I had.





I heard someone clear their throat and I turned around to see the familiar man in the black outfit.





He walked to me, and I could tell something was up.





"Who are you?" I ask.





"I should be asking you the same question." He says, smiling and revealing his luscious dimples.





The wind blew in our direction, and the smell of the man in front of me was all very well too familiar to me. Chanel #5? That can't be him..






He took out his blue contacts, and revealed his forest green eyes.





"Rosalia, is this you?" He asks, with hurt in his voice.





"Harry... How, what, why are you here?" I ask.





"Why were you kissing that bloody French guy?" He asks, angered.






"I didn't kiss him, he kissed me when I wasn't paying attention." I defend myself.






"Oh.. I'm sorry." He says.





I look down at his jacket to see a little microphone and automatically knew what was up with him.





I took off the microphone and snapped it in half.





"How did you get yourself wrapped up in this?" I ask, sadly and holding on to his jacket.






"I did it to find you." He replies.





"How long?" I ask.





"It's been three months." He says.






"You should still be in training." I say.






"I finished training and all of my needed classes in two months. I surpassed Robbie's record..just not yours." He says. "Aren't you proud of me?"





"Harry, you put your whole life on the line to find me?" I ask.







"Of course. I love you, and I would take all the pain in the world to protect you. I almost lost you once and I don't plan on doing that again." He answers.





I could feel the tears pooling behind my eyes.





"Harry.. This life isn't meant for you. This was never made for you. I had to leave." I say, hurt.





He grabs my shoulders and grips them tight as he looks into my eyes and says "why would you fake your own death?"





"I can't tell you.." I say.






"Please. I came all this way, I need to bring you home." He says.






I cup his face with my hands, as he held me close to him. I looked into his sad, sad eyes and I tried to smile weakly.






"Meet me at the top of the Eiffel Tower and I will tell you everything. Tell Chief that you thought I was me, but I ended up being someone else that sounded like me. Tell him you were sure it was not me. Come alone." I say.






"Chief Masterson would want to know... He misses you so much." Harry explains, making me laugh.





"Chief Masterson? He even changed his name to protect his sorry ass. Harry, his name is Chief Saunders. He must be trying to cover himself. Does he look different?" I ask.



"He has black hair, and brown eyes." He says.




"My chief had blue eyes and blond hair. He's fooling everyone and obviously trying to protect himself from something." I say.





"What do you know?" He asks.





"Eiffel Tower." I say.





Harry leaned down, our noses were touching. He held my face as I held his arms, and his lips touched mine.




The feeling of a thousand fireworks went off the same way they did when e used to kiss me.





"I have to go." He says.




"When do you leave Paris?" I ask.




"In two days time." He replies.





"Top of the Eiffel Tower at 6am sharp. Be there, alone. Okay?" I demand.






"I will." He says, walking away.





He turns around and says "before I go." And his lips came falling onto mine once more. This created a burning passion that had never been there before. He held me with such power but softness, and his lips attacked my own with gentle motions. I was in a fantasy world when we kissed.





"I love you." He whispers.





"And I love you, Harry." I whisper back.





When my eyes opened, he was gone.