Murphy's Law ✔️

Chapter Two.

T.W- drug use.

February (1st), 2020.

Angel had bandaids everywhere.

Her knobby knees were absolutely covered in them, and another one sat just below on her left shin. She had one more on her right elbow and the ones that covered her knees had blood leaking through the adhesive.

She sat on the table in front of Harry, legs dangling off and clothed in a white bra with a matching set of knickers and garder-belt that connected to knee-high stockings. Her feet were adorned in white pumps with little puffs of fur over the toe strap. Her blonde hair was long and voluminous and reached just below her chest, beachy waves that framed her square face delicately. She looked heavenly.

"It's your birthday?"

"As of..." Harry looked down at his watch, his eyes squinting, "two minutes ago, yes," he confirmed with a smile. She returned a timid one back to him.

"Congrats. How old are you?"

"Thirty."

Her nose wrinkled and he laughed wonderfully loud, his eyes twinkling in a way that they hadn't in a while. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and cleared his throat.

"How have you been? Any luck with robbing any other random men?"

She grinned, her head shaking and her gaze focusing in on her shoes. Tucking a strand of blonde behind her ear, she cleared her throat, "no, actually. You were my first and last victim."

And Harry definitely had tequila in his system and a little bit of champagne and maybe Niall and him split a spliff before they left, but he really didn't need confidence to continue the topic of conversation. There were plenty of late nights that he couldn't sleep as he wondered about the girl and why she was doing what she did. It shouldn't of concerned him, really, it shouldn't have, but in his mind if he were ever to be mugged, he would've imagined the perpetrator to be a bit taller, a bit meaner, a bit... Well, anything but Angel.

"Why did you have to do that?" He asked, and the phrasing was deliberate. He knew she was put up to it the second he caught a glance at the girl. He asked the question softly, in a way that was in no means offensive whatsoever, showing her that he truly meant no harm- he wasn't angry. She sighed.

"Working with my boss, I was always in the same position- you know, use your imagination. It's.. Exhausting, honestly. He decided to give me a shot at moving up in the ranks and told me to start off with a bit of a 'stop and frisk', y'know?"

He frowned in thought, his hand coming up to rub at his chin as he watched the girl in front of him- the perfect Thinking Man. He clicked his tongue and nodded.

"And have you moved up in rank?"

"What does it look like?" She mused with a smirk, leaning back against her hands on the table. There was nothing humorous about the tone of her voice but Harry could tell she was awfully used to plastering that look on her face to truly sell.

"Do you... Enjoy what you do?"

Angel's smirk fell from her face as soon as it appeared and a frown replaced it, her eyebrows tugging down over her large brown eyes. She had never been asked anything like that- it shocked her being just as much as jumping into a cold pool in the middle of the summer did. She turned her head to look over at the door and swallowed the lump in her throat, her swinging legs stopping their motion.

"I don't think so," she replied quietly, as if someone was listening through the crack on the door, "but what else am I to do? It's all I know."

And it broke Harry's heart a bit, really, hearing those words. She looked young- not young enough to not control what she does with her own body, but way too young to have that hopeless look in her eyes- the look that said 'this is it, this is all I can be.'