Murphy's Law ✔️

Prologue.

September, 2019.

Harry didn't expect his day to turn out the way it did.

It was a regular Tuesday night- just like any of the others. He went to the studio in the early afternoon, dealt with his shit-head clients, smoked a cigarette in the bathroom, called his mom, and ordered a pizza to his apartment for when he got home.

And, well, he wasn't expecting to feel the barrel of a gun pressed between his shoulder blades as he rounded the corner to his apartment, but alas- Harry's life had been going downhill for so long that he wasn't so surprised it would end like this.

"Give me everything you have and I won't shoot," a quiet, feminine voice spoke from behind him. He frowned, because he heard the shake in her voice and he had a strange feeling that she didn't know what she was doing. He played into it though, even just for a minute, as he put his hands up and cleared his throat.

"Okay, lets just talk this out-"

"I said give me what you have!" She gritted, pressing the barrel further against his back. He huffed a bit, slowly turning around in his spot until he faced her.

She had a grey jumper on with the hood over her head, but he could see the peroxide-blonde hair that flowed underneath it. Her hood covered her eyes but below it, he noticed she had a small nose and plump, pink lips that were chapped and dry and cracking. She was incredible pale- that was for sure- as the street lamp on the corner illuminated the lower half of her face and made her skin look almost translucent. She was quite thin in frame with shaking hands and wore jeans that didn't hug her legs in the way they should have- loose and tattered with holes in the knees and a stain that looked strangely like blood near the ankle of her right left. He glanced down at the gun- that was now pressed to his chest- and raised his eyebrows. She could barely hold it.

"No," he said simply.

"No?" She questioned back, her jaw clenching. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

And Harry almost laughed out loud, hoping and praying that he wasn't wrong when he assumed she not only didn't know how to shoot the gun, but that it wasn't even loaded. She had no idea what she was doing- it was so incredibly obvious and for a moment, he genuinely pitied the girl in front of him.

"I mean, go ahead and shoot. I'm not giving you anything."

A huff escaped her lips and her hand began to tremble more before she finally lowered it, shoving the pistol into the waistband of her pants.

The thing was, she had been following this man for days- had watched him walk out of his apartment the previous afternoon with Gucci loafers on his feet, his clearly expensive cologne hitting her nose from 20 feet away. He had one of the fanciest buildings in London with a doorman, an elevator that could fit at least ten people, and flats that claimed one of the greatest views in the city.

She scoped him and decided to make him the victim of her first official mugging, as per her boss. Harry was lanky and long and clumsy- she had watched him trip over his own two feet at least three times in the past few days that she watched him, and he looked a bit hopeless, honestly. After gathering her intel and informing Z of the man she found, he gave her a grin and a pat on the back and told her to go for it. He didn't praise her often, and so, she wanted to make him proud. Maybe she would even be promoted from her current position.

And now here he was, and to the surprise of both of them, he was putting up a bit of a fight. She wasn't much of a fighter at all- she never found the strength to throw a punch or a kick- and so now it was just... Awkward. And so, in the heat of the moment, she did what she knew best. She let out a sigh and loosened her shoulders.

"Listen," she said huskily, taking a step closer and bringing her hand up to play with the collar of his shirt, "I'm sorry, okay? How about we take this up to your place so I can properly earn that money?"

And, well, Harry's never really been in this situation before. A giggle escaped his lips and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. She felt offended for just a moment.

"What's your name?" He asked softly, taking her hand and pulling it from his collar. She frowned.

"Um, it's- it's... Angel," she responded in confusion. Her head was swarming with pure astonishment at this situation. No man, ever, had denied her advances in order for her to bring money back to Z. It was unbeknownst to both of them at that moment, but they were both swimming in unfamiliar territory.

"Angel," he repeated, nodding along to it. He knew it wasn't her real name, honestly, but it would do for now. "Angel, what on earth do you think you're doing? Is that even loaded?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "No, it's not."

"And do you realize how... How small you are? What if I had decided to turn around and beat the shit out of you, huh? You could get bloody murdered out here," he scolded, and she frowned, because what?

She had literally just tried to rob this man, and here he was, scolding her for not being more careful for her own sake. She had never in her life been more confused at the situation she was in. She tried to recall the last time someone had ever been concerned for her well being and came up blank. This was the first time, and it was someone who was supposed to be her victim.

"I-I," She spluttered, her head shaking and her eyes blinking. She needed a fix before she could speak clearly again, but she looked up at the man in front of her in astonishment. "I would've been okay. I could fight them off," she explained with absolutely no confidence. Harry rolled his eyes and pulled his wallet out of his jeans.

"How much do you need? Will this do?" He asked as he rifled around his wallet for a wad of notes equating to one hundred pounds, pulling them out and holding them to her.

She looked down at it and chuckled, looking up at him incredulously, because what the fuck? Was this some sort of sick fucking joke? Was he going to let her turn around and then bash her over the back of her head with a brick and toss her body in the river? What the fuck was he doing?

He shook his head and saw the hesitance in her eyes, and so he stepped closer, gently shoving the notes into her pocket and stepping back with his hands in the air again.

"It's not a trap, alright? I can spare the money right now, you look like you need it more than I do. Go buy yourself a proper jacket, it's getting bloody cold out here," he said with a shudder, pulling the pea coat further around his body.

She looked like a fish out of water as her mouth gaped, not really knowing what to tell the stranger in front of her. She wrapped her arms around her thin frame and sighed, licking her chapped lips.

"Thank you," she said quietly, and the corner of his mouth tilted up in a friendly smile. Of course he had a fucking dimple. He was the epitome of kindness.

"Don't mention it, yeah? Now go on, get back to wherever it is you're staying and get some rest. It's too dark out to be wandering around on your own," he said, and a small smile stretched across her chapped lips.

He gave her a curt nod and turned on his heel to walk up to his building where he was greeted by his doorman and the warmth of the central heating and the marble floors that when he walked on made that little 'click click' sound under his heels. And then, yet again, it was all so familiar for the rest of the night. He settled into his warm flat in a pair of pajamas, ate half of the pizza he ordered on his own, and fell asleep on his couch with his beloved cat Nyx snoring on his chest.

It was all so familiar, but Harry had no idea that fate had an entirely different plan for him. Everything would change soon enough, and perhaps that was for the better- because his normalcy had become quite pathetic, in all honesty.

But, of course, everything had to come with a price.