Mission 1832: Harry Styles

Chapter One:

Isabelle's eyes opens slowly. She scrunches her nose as she turn over, attempting to ignore the sun peaking through her black curtains. She stays in that position for only a few moments before mumbling 'fuck' and sitting up her feet dangling off the side of the bed. She looses no time in stretching her arms while letting out a loud yawn. She's tired, but she has no choice but to get up and get her day started. She slides into her slippers near the bed and rubs her eyes as she goes to open her bedroom door. She makes her way down the narrow hallway and into the lightly decorated bathroom. She looks into the mirror for a few moments looking at herself before grabbing her toothbrush. 

After Isabelle's teeth are clean to her satisfaction, she turns on the shower and begins to undress herself. Her shower is short but she makes sure that she does everything that she needs to do including shaving her legs and washing her curly thick hair. She moves the shower curtain out of her way and wraps a towel around her body and hair. Isabelle stands in front of the mirror once again as she starts on her skin car routine washing her face properly. Her skin routine is quite lengthy but she knows that she is not blessed with smooth and clear skin, so she has to do whatever it takes to keep it. 

She unwraps her hair, putting her towel in the bathroom hamper. She then starts on her hair care routine. This process is shorter than the skin because her hair is already at its desired length and she is proud at how healthy it is. Right now, she is mostly focused on keeping the moisture and keeping her hair healthy. After she finishes her hair, she drops her towel around her body into the bathroom hamper and speed walks back to her room. She looks at the time and roll her eyes. She has to be at work in an hour and she still have to get dressed. She puts on her undergarments and find herself in some white jeans and a light blue blouse that hangs a bit off her shoulders. Her natural hair rests on her shoulders as she put on her white vans. 

The place that she works requires her to always look her absolute best, but she is over that type of lifestyle. She just wants her money so she can go home. Obviously, Isabelle does not have a typical job and so her pay is not typical as well. She gets paid based off her mission. As soon as her mission is finished, her money is wired to her account. The more missions she completes, the more money she receives. However, she cannot take more than one mission at a time, companies policies. 

Isabelle finally finishes the final touches of her morning routine and sits at her desk in her room doing her makeup. She decides to do a natural look so the makeup does not take more than about fifteen minutes. She looks at her cell phone checking the time. She has thirty minutes until she has to be at work. She grabs her things (phone, charger, car/house keys, and purse) and heads back down her narrow hallway and out of her front door making sure she locks it. She walked down the steps of her small porch as she unlocks the door to her Malibu. She gets in quickly and checks her car making sure that nothing is out of the ordinary.

She locks the doors around her as she cranks up the car meditating a little before she puts the car in reverse and getting out of the parking lot. She turns on the radio, humming along to the music as she pulls into the Starbucks drive through and orders her usual Strawberry Acai Lemonade Refresher with a Spinach, Feta, and Egg White Wrap. She pays and receives her food and makes her way to work while she eats. 

Isabelle is licks her full lips as she made her way to her job. She parks her car and walks into the twelve floor building with her food in hand. The way things work around here is that the type  of work Isabelle does requires her to be called in instead of her coming in everyday and sitting in an office. She greets the assistant at the first floor front desk and makes her way to the elevator to go to the seventh floor. She makes her way down the hall passing by the plain white doors until she gets to the one she is destined to be at. She knocks. Her knocking is brief and firm, making her presence noticeable and difficult to ignore. She hears a faint "Come in." Before she opens the door and makes direct eye contact with the familiar face. She makes her way to the chair before her quickly as the man before her smiles. They've been coworkers for the past ten years, and in a way he was like a friend to her.