dreamer ➵ larry stylinson

seventeen

seventeen.

It was now New Years Day and I was back at working in the same bookstore. Niall and his uncle were still in Ireland to see their family, so I had the bookstore all to myself until tomorrow. I took a sip of my hot tea and began to read one of my favorite books: The Outsiders. No matter how many times I read it, it never got old. The door jingled open and I let out an  unenthusiastic welcome and turned the page. 

For New Years, Harry came to my flat and spent the night. Of course he had brought Jetsy along with him. At the strike of midnight, Harry kissed me hard. It had gotten so heated last night, that he brought me to my own bed and had blown me. As for his sister, she had already left and apparently Harry wanted to rip his hair out.

I was going to return the favour, but he insisted that it was my treat. Harry had fallen asleep after that and so I went ahead and slept as well. This morning, I hated to wake him up to let him know I was leaving. He just grumbled and went back to sleep, so before I opened, I sent him a text saying I went to work if he didn't remember.

So far, I haven't got a reply back and it was currently ten in the morning. The sleepy head was probably still dead on my bed. It didn't bother me, though. He was adorable when he was asleep. The way his lips slightly parted and how his eyelashes laid against his cheekbones. Completely adorable.

Then before I could even look up to meet the customer, a cold metal object was pressed to my head. I whipped my eyes up to see a man with a bandana over his mouth and nose. I gulped as my stomach turned in knots.

"Put money on the counter or it won't be pretty." He roughly spoke. 

I nodded slowly and reached down to open the register. My hand gripped at a few pounds and placed them on the counter.

He pressed the gun harder to my  forehead. "Do you think this is a fucking joke? More!"

"You won't shoot." I shakily said. Honestly, I didn't know what I was doing now. It was like I had a death wish.

"Excuse me? If you don't put more money on the counter, I will shoot."

"There is no more money in here." I lied. My voice was still shaking. "In the back, there's a vault where we keep all of the cash. Go get the money from there."

He gave me a hard glance before pocketing the money on the counter and started to walk to the supply closet. Once he was fully in the closet, I ran over and shut the door, quickly locking it. My heart was beating quickly. He was screaming and shooting the gun at the door. Bullets went through the door, and shot at the wall on the other side of the store. 

I practically ran to my cellphone and dialed 999. Automatically, I was connected to someone from the emergency line.

"999. What's your emergency?"

I was breathing quickly now. "Someone tried to rob the Watkins bookstore and I had locked him in the supply closet. I need police now, quickly. He's shooting and yelling, please hurry."

"Slow down, sir. Calm down. Police are on their way now. What did the man look like?"

My fingers raked through my hair, and I was pacing around the store now. Thankfully no one had shown up except for the man. "He had on a red bandana and a hat. White shirt, dark jeans."

"And what did he say when he came in?" She asked. 

"He threatened me and told me to place money on the counter."

"Okay, thank you. Police should almost be there. Please be patient while I hang up."

I nodded. "Okay, thank you." Then I hung up the phone and leaned against a bookshelf, holding a hand to my chest. The man was now screaming at the top of his lungs and pounding on the door. If he kept up for any longer, the door will break off the hinges.