HIRED GUN // H.S AU

one

AMARA

My body was unrecognisable at this point. The reflection in the mirror didn't shock me at all, no. This was a regular occurrence. My eyes narrowed as I stared at my crimson coloured body, thin scratches from the shower loofah covering my once pale skin.

My head turned to the side as I examined the mirror, a small smudge coming to my attention. My hand grabbed the neatly folded washer on the counter, rubbing the mirror with the white cloth until the smudge was non-existent.

The washer was neatly folded before being placed into the laundry hamper. My eyes searched around the room for any imperfections, nodding once I found none.

"Amara!" My mum's voice was heard from downstairs, making me stumble out of my ensuite into my bedroom. I was up early for my first day of college, which my mother was surprisingly letting me go to.

My father was fine with it, he didn't mind, as long as I had a bodyguard to escort me. My mother was the difficult one to persuade, resulting in a world-wide search for the best possible man for the job.

Unfortunately, my parents weren't the most liked people. They had far too many enemies, who wanted them and their loved ones dead. My mother and father were quite notorious, being in one of the most wanted gangs in the UK.

I was used to the lifestyle now, having to move countries regularly. My obsessive need to keep everything organised and perfect made it difficult, paired with the hectic and complicated life of being the daughter of gang leaders.

I tutted as I moved a black jumper from where it was placed in my grey jumper section, my mum's carelessness showing through my laundry. I need to remind her everyday to not touch my laundry, because she always does it wrong. I appreciate her, and I wish I wasn't like this. But, I am, and I can't stop that. I was glad they bought me my own dorm, but it was more like an apartment, having a kitchen and bedrooms.

I tugged on a pair of black skinny jeans, and a baby blue jumper, darting to my mirror to make sure it looked alright. I stared for a couple seconds, adjusting everything to be perfectly put in place. Once approval was given, I scurried downstairs to my mother.

"Morning," dad greeted me as I walked in, sipping his cup of coffee by the breakfast bench.

"When is the man coming?" I asked while preparing my coffee, pouring two teaspoons of sugar into my white mug.

"He should be here any second," My mother whizzed around the kitchen, tidying up the area as she usually does for guests. I nodded in return, pouring the boiling water into my mug, stirring the mixture carefully.

My mother gasped as three loud knocks were heard from the front door, almost running to it while in her heels. Dad and I stared at each other, communicating with our eyes almost, confused by the frazzled lady we call family.

"Would you like a coffee?" My mother's voice sounded calm, contradicting her state from mere seconds ago. I spotted her and another person in the corner of my eye, lowering my head to stare at the timber dining table I was sat at.

"No, that's okay, thankyou," my head shot up as a deep voice spoke, surprised by the velvety smooth, yet rough tone to it. My eyes stopped on the tall figure standing awkwardly by the door frame, his left fist clenched, while his other hand held onto his wrist. His hands settled at his crotch, his frame looking tense and proper.

My eyes drifted up to his face, gulping when I realised he was already looking at me. His bushy, yet tamed, eyebrows were furrowing, a crease resting between the two. His eyes were an emerald colour, going well with his slightly pink lips.

"Amara!" My mother shrieked, making me jump in surprise, letting out a yelp when my burning hot coffee spilt onto my shaky hands.

"I-sorry," I stuttered, thanking my mother when she handed me a cloth. I wiped up the hot substance, moving to the sink to rinse the cloth, before going to scrub at the timber again.

"Amara, I think that's enough," My mother mumbled, grabbing the cloth from my hands when I didn't stop wiping the spot that was evidently clean.

"No, mum-"

"Amara, just stop," she sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead in annoyance as she sat down. "Harry, please sit."

My eyes watered as I stared at the spot where the coffee once lay, my mind throwing suggestions at me to grab the cloth and wipe it over once more, just in case there were still traces of coffee there.

"Okay, so Amara has two classes today, and-" my father began explaining my schedule to the man, which I could've done, but I was smart enough to keep my mouth closed and let them do things themselves.

I zoned out as they continued, staring at the man, Harry, I think they called him. His face was set hard, his head nodding every once in a while to make it clear he was listening.

"If she gets a bit...obsessive, feel free to use force to get her out of it. She can be difficult sometimes," My mother's words shocked me, my mouth falling open. She'd lived with me all my life, she should know how I get if I can't get something perfect.

"Force?" I spat out, their heads all snapping to look at me when I finally spoke up.

"Amara, I don't think-" dad began speaking in my favour, mentally thanking him in my mind.

"Yes, force. I give you permission to use force to stop this phase she is going through," my mother stood up after interrupted dad, grabbing her handbag. "Goodbye Amara, call us if you need anything Harry."

My dad gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, following my mother out the door, closing it behind him. Harry and I sat there in silence for a couple minutes, before I got up to grab the cloth from the sink. I wiped the table one more time, before grabbing my bag that contained my laptop and supplies I needed for college.

I didn't have to speak, Harry understood I wanted to leave when I stood by the front door, holding my bag. His body trailed behind as I walked through the hallways, finding the stairs to go down to classes.

I finally relaxed once I walked into the English literature lecture, finding two seats in the middle. I squeezed past people already sitting in the row, muttering quiet sorry's and thankyou's. The lecturer began once we'd sat down and everyone had settled, my hands reaching into my bag to grab my laptop.

I typed along as he spoke, taking in the important notes that would help in future assignments. My eyes flicked to Harry when his fingers tapped a rhythm on the wooden desk, his taping ceasing once he noticed my stare.

"Are you bored?" I leaned over to whisper to Harry, his gaze at the front of the class switching to me. He shook his head, pulling his lips between his teeth when I shot an eyebrow up at him.

"Are you sure? I have games on my phone if you want-"

"I'm fine," Harry harshly interrupted, although an amused glint settled in his eyes.

I nodded at him slowly, not believing him entirely. I felt pity for him, if I'm honest. He's practically babysitting a 19-year-old girl and having to be glued by her side. I'm sure my parents pay him a fair amount, but it would still suck.

My thoughts were put on hold as the lecturer announced we were done, and he'd see us tomorrow. Harry was already stood up, waiting for me so we could go to my second lecture. I shut my laptop gently, placing it into my bag before standing.

Harry waited until I was prepared, before walking down the row to the exit door. Students piled out, Harry disappearing into the crowd. I grimaced when people bumped into me, sighing in relief when I made it out of the sea of students.

I rummaged in my tight pockets for my trusty hand sanitizer, grinning when my fingers grasped onto it. I squirted the clear liquid into my hand, rubbing my hands together. I clicked the lid back on, placing it back into my pocket when I approved of my hands. I looked up when I began walking again, spotting Harry across from me, his face blank.

"Would you like some-"

"No."

"That's really unsanitary, Harry," I sent him a look, shaking my head as we walked. He looked at me with a hard look, making me focus my eyes back to the halls.