Broken Glass [h.s.]

two

Dove

I stand still in the line between two tall men, very strong looking. I put on the black hat in my right hand, making sure it covers the majority of my face, and also decide to look down even though I know that my sex will hardly be hidden just like that, considering my petite body.

All of sudden someone opens the main door, so forcefully that its wood comes crashing against the cold stone wall, and part of the the pale paint falls on the floor. After that, I hear the slow tapping of boots on the floor as the person approaches us with a steady pace. The person, of whom I can only see the dark boots and part of their slim legs, stops in front of the man on my right. As nonchalantly as I can, I glance up at him, and see him nod slightly.

"Good evening, Mr Styles" he says, his voice not missing a beat.

The man in front of him only grunts, and moves on.

I look down again. The boots surpass me, and their owner stops in front of the man on my left. However, he doesn't turn towards him. On the contrary, he turns back. With one single step, he's in front of me. For a few seconds none of us says anything. Then, all of sudden, he takes away my hat, and my dark hair falls on my shoulders.

I look up, and see the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. The first thing I notice about him is probably the intense green of his eyes. The light of the room, that isn't faint enough for me not to see the colour, gives his stare an unusual intensity, so intense that it is hard - if not impossible - to turn away, as if I was a little boat caught in the deadly whirl of the ocean waves in the middle of a thunderstorm. That, only if the bright blue of the water was a deep leaf green instead. But at the moment, I can't come up to a better comparison for that stormy gaze. His hair is dark and messy, a lock of hair has fallen on his forehead, but he makes no move to put it back in its place. My blue eyes automatically go down to his lips before I can stop myself. They are of a deep shade of pink. He bites them softly. I wonder if the young man in front of me is really Harry Styles. He has the features of an angel, how can it be that he's done all the things I've heard around? He seems almost too beautiful to belong to this world.

Then, he speaks.

"You're a girl" he states, and the darkness held in his deep, vibrating voice almost makes me quiver.

"Got a problem with that?" I say looking right into his eyes, trying to show him that I have no intention of being put down by his words.

"And why would you be here? Is my father worried I won't get to satisfy my needs during the long trip?" He snickers at me.

I raise an eyebrow at the stupidity of his sentence. Of course someone like him would say something like that. People like him always expect others to live in order to tend to their needs and only theirs, and even more if they don't have their same social status. "I am not a prostitute" I reply snappily, "I'm here to defend your bratty ass like everyone else here."

He stays silent for a few seconds scanning my body, probably deciding what to do of me. He steps closer, making sure to belittle me with his height. "What's your name?" He asks lowly.

"Dove Winters" I reply, "At your service." I give him a fast bow, a sign of respect that I actually don't have for him.

He glares at the curtsy. "Do you even know how to use a gun?" He asks.

I'm about to give him the same reply I gave to his father yesterday, but then, right before opening my mouth, I realise that all he wants is to make fun of me instead.