A Collection of Imagines

Harry

Love pt. 3

Once I get to my house, I slam my front door behind me. My back slams against the stained hardwood and I slump to the floor. I press my skull into the door, trying to shake the image of the pistol gleaming in his perfect palm. Holy fuck! What just happened? Well, you know what just happened. YOU JUST WALKED INTO A FUCKING DRUG DEAL! You opened yourself up to a FUCKING DRUG LORD! That's what just happened. I let that man take me into his life. I let him touch me. I let him kiss me. Ugh. Now he knows who I am, where I live and where I work. "SHIT!" I literally yell out while slamming my palm into my forehead. Why am I so naive? I should have seen this coming. His security detail, expensive suits, and dangerous smirk. I should've known. God, I'm a fucking idiot.

I round the corner once again and spot the large SUV on the side of the road. One of my guys looks at me before stepping forward. Before he says anything, I figure it out. "She took off, didn't she?" He slowly nods and a send him a glare. Of course, she got away. Of course, my men didn't catch her. I should have told them to stay in the car. I should have driven her back home for God's sake. She has a curious mind that will get her killed one day. That's only if she stays ... in touch with me. Shit. I've known this chick for one day and I'm already planning spending more time with her. "Take me to her house. She's not smart enough yet to go some place else." The guy nods and I viciously pry open the car door.

Visions of him in my kitchen this morning flood my brain. My hands pull at the roots of my hair. I need to get him out of my head. I get up from my seat on the floor and stumble down the hallway. I need to get out of here. I rush up the stairs into my room and grab one of my large duffel bags. I frantically start to throw several articles of clothing into the bag. I pause, scanning my room. Making sure I didn't forget anything. My feet pad down the stairs once more and I enter the kitchen to grab my charger off of the table. ... The kitchen. I stop in my tracks. My eyes slowly rotate towards the table. ... That fucking table. Our mugs still present on the hardwood. My heart rate slows as I approach it. One foot in front of the other. I stand in front of the chair that hasn't been moved since he sat on it. Since our chests touched. Since we kissed. Right here in this cold London morning. My hand raises to touch the wood with the pad of my middle finger, running down the curves of the frame. In this moment, time seemed to cease to exist. I couldn't hear anything, but the repetition of heavy breathing from a dangerous man and a fragile woman on an endless loop. I'm falling hard for the sound.

I feel so terrible for her. She was so afraid. I hadn't seen real fear like that in a long time. Not since ... no let's not open that door. Memories of my father come flooding in and my fist balls up on the seat next to me. Shit, I hope she hasn't left her house yet. I don't know if I will ever see her again. I pound me fist against the leather seat. "Faster, god dammit!" The driver nods and we increase in speed towards her house. I can't lose this girl. She doesn't know it, but no one has ever seen this side of me. I'm guessing she's the reason why it's deciding to take a visit in my system and is planning to take up shop. I'm determined to keep it there as long as she stays along with it. God, Stan's right. I am loosing my edge.

My hand moves to the mug on the table. The same one he drank out of. The pad of my pointer finger traces the rim of the cup. His lips were here just after taking me into his arms. I close my eyes at the contact, trying to imagine a place where he wasn't this dangerous person. We would be still sitting here. Enjoying each others company. Lips never loosing contact. Who knew that kissing would be so addictive.

*Ding dong*

My entire soul leaps out of my body. I'm frozen. I make sure I make no noise. I don't even breathe.

*Ding dong*

I gasp again. Placing my hand over my mouth. It could be someone else, but I could most likely be him. My foot moves in front of me before I could even think this through. I drop the bag in the hallway as I slowly creep up to the wooden door.