free run | h.s

four

Harry felt as if he was back at school again - waking up at ridiculous hours and getting into the exhausting routine again.

His routine had changed dramatically; all to fit precisely to the nameless girl's schedule. He'd wait outside (clad in his trendy, tinted sunglasses and a plaid shirt over his black tee to warm up his arms in the chilly, London weather) the school premises, just to catch a glimpse of her gorgeous face, entering the Hell he'd been much too familiar with before. He'd then find other things to do until precisely half-past three in the afternoon, where he'd see her leave again and go back home. Harry would never follow her home - he wouldn't ever dream of scaring her in such a way. He just waited patiently, for something out of the ordinary to happen.

And for a while, every passing day was the same. Going into school alone, leaving school alone. Not even sparing the gangly, curly-haired man a glance.

But today was different than the usual: today, he saw the angel he'd dreamed about too many times exit the school, only she was uncomfortably shuffling away from a boy approaching her.

Harry stood up from the wall he was resting on and frowned. Who was this ass? Was he making his darling uncomfortable? Harry's muscles were tense as he waited for any sign to completely wreck this imbecile.

"Oh come on, Imogen! You can't be so damn frigid forever, you know," the guy hot on her heels complained as Harry listened intently. The younger lad had dirty blonde hair, all curly and messy and very-Alex-Pettyfer. But Harry had found a new hatred for this guy, what a fucking tool, he thought.

But there was one thing Harry noted: her name was Imogen. It was so pretty and pure and he was sure that he'd fell even more in love with her by the second.

"Leave me alone, Max," her soft voice spoke as she clutched her school books closer to her chest, desperation clear in her doe-brown eyes. They were out of the school crowd now, Harry making sure to stay a safe enough distance away as they made their way down the dingy streets.

"You don't mean that, Imogen," he spoke, a threatening tone to his voice, reaching out to grab her by the wrist harshly.

Harry just couldn't stand watching it unfold anymore, he broke out into a sprint as he tailed the guy, not caring about the strange looks he received.

"STEP THE FUCK BACK!" Harry roared, knocking the blonde-haired boy into the nearest brick wall and bunching his fists in his shirt to keep him in place. "If I were you, I'd stay away from her unless you want me to fucking kill you," he threatened quietly, knowing little Imogen was stood behind the pair as he could hear audible gasps every now and then.

"I-I was j-just trying to ask her o-out, man, let m-me go!" Max (or the tool, as Harry referred to him) begged breathlessly, blue eyes wide and scared. Harry's lips curled into a disgusted scowl at the younger lad before he loosened his grip - but not completely.

"In the future, you better treat women with fucking respect, instead of harassing them when they say no."

"W-whatever, you... you freak!" he spat, turning and quickly making his way back down the street in fear.

Harry had almost forgot about the angel who he'd been desperate to finally meet until he heard the quiet sound of her clearing her throat. He immediately twirled to face her, sending her a kind smile as he looked at her lovingly (although she couldn't see behind his sunglasses).

"U-uh... thank you, for that. He has been bothering me for a while now," she spoke timidly, offering a small smile. Harry was sure his heart was beating at an unhealthy rate in that moment.