Blacklist [h.s]

nineteen

AN: If you're out protesting, thank you. If you're out volunteering, thank you. Black Lives Matter. We need every voice we can to be heard!! Be smart, stay safe out there, but don't be complacent! Don't be afraid to stand up for what you believe in.

Grace

I've never had a knife in my chest, but I can imagine this is what it must feel like. A sharp jolt that makes your heart beat out of your chest. The pain is so immense that my stomach begins to hurt. For a moment, I could've swore I caught a glimpse of it in the mirror, the black handle making itself home in my chest, but with a second glance I realize there is nothing there.

I've been sitting in the bathroom with the shower running for so long that I barely noticed how much steam has accumulated in here. The blue tiles on the wall drip with sweat, the low hum of the fan annoys me. I haven't even gotten in. I've just sat on the toilet in a hotel towel for 20 minutes.

Harry has been quiet inside the room since our fight. He asked if I was hungry earlier, but I didn't respond to him. He didn't bother to push it any further. I haven't heard the TV flick on or the door shut, so I have no idea what he may be doing. I hope he's gone.

I can't wrap my head around anything at the moment. I don't know who I am anymore, I don't know where I belong or what's going to happen to me. I really have no place to go. Harry is the only person in the world that I can trust right now (and that isn't saying a lot because I can barely trust him). I don't know what my life is going to look like from here on out? Will I run from the FBI like Harry did forever? Will I ever be able to be normal again?

I reach into the shower to finally turn the water off and watch as the last bits of water drop from the shower head. My hair is slightly damp and frizzy from the steam. I wipe the accumulated steam off the mirror and I stare at myself. I can't recognize myself. My eyes are tired and sunken, in with dark circles underneath from a lack of sleep and stress. My hair isn't the same color as my mother's anymore. I wanted so desperately to take some scissors and chop it off while I cry in the mirror. But I don't.

Instead, I get dressed into some grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, turn around and walk out of the bathroom. Harry is laying on the tan sofa, his long legs dangling off the edge, his back turned towards the door so I don't have to look at him. I don't think he's asleep, but I don't say anything as a quietly walk towards the bed.

I never thought that the bureau would betray me like this. Did they put me through school so I could give them intel about my dad? Am I actually a good agent or did they just make me think I was? Did Hunter know? Did Agent Cooper?

My thoughts are interrupted by the blue and red lights bouncing off the wall behind me. Please not again, I think to myself. Is this what its going to be like? Having my breath hitch in my throat every time I see a cop car drive, glancing between everyone's faces, wondering which one was a secret agent who would be following me. I sure hope not. Harry gets up as fast as he can and peaks through the peep hole on the door, then he moves to the window. My heart beats fast as his hand slowly slides the curtain closed before he falls back onto the couch.

"Drunk mate," he mumbles. Harry crosses his broad arms over his chest and relaxes. I'm still upset from what he said to me earlier, so I lay down on the bed with my back faced to him and slowly fall asleep to the sound of the clock ticking on the wall.

-

Loud bangs ring throughout the small hotel room, jolting both Harry and I awake. The room is no longer dimly lit yellow and is now almost pitch black, a sliver of moonlight providing us with barely enough light to shuffle around. My eyes glance towards Harry, giving him a worried look, although in the dark, I doubt he sees it. I can barely see through the moonlight peaking from the windows that his eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. He slowly gets up and peeps through the peep hole. He grabs the chain and unlocks the door before barely cracking it. Seconds later, he steps outside to talk to the mysterious person on the other side of the door. I debate for a few minutes if I should get out of bed and eavesdrop. I can hear their mumbled voices, but I can't make anything out. I eventually get up to move closer to the door to listen.