oneshots • sidemen

|| 09 || minishaw • dangerous love; pt.3

|| ship; minishaw

|| warnings; mild violence, minor injury detail

|| words; 1.9k

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[ a month later ]

"Alright Harry, those two there are the targets," Simon murmurs to the boy beside him, pointing to two men in smart suits standing on the street corner opposite them. One tall and lithe with bright blonde hair, and the other shorter and stocky, wearing a fedora.

"Right," Harry says obediently, shifting into a more comfortable position.

"They've got guns, so we need to move in fast, take them by surprise. No mistakes, or you'll end up shot, you hear me?" Simon says firmly, making Harry look him in the eyes.

"I hear you," he responds.

"Good. Remember, there's people around, so keep your sunglasses, mask and gloves on at all times. You know where the rendezvous point is, right?" Simon asks. Harry nods.

"I'm ready Si, don't worry," he assures the worried older boy. Simon grabs onto Harry's shoulder gently.

"I know. Just get out of it alright, yeah?" He says, looking Harry seriously in the eye.

"You too," Harry replies simply. Simon then moves his hand away from his shoulder, and pulls his bandana up to cover his nose and mouth. Then puts his sunglasses on. Harry copies the motion.

It's their first job together, and Simon was confident before they got here. But now the doubt is setting in. Not doubt really, just concern. He doesn't want anything bad to happen. He's been training Harry for just over a month, and they've got considerably closer during that time. Simon cares about the younger boy a lot, and wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to him.

He knows they've got to get this job done. Get in, get out, get paid. Simple. But he feels the seconds slowing down to hours. Watching as Harry slides his sunglasses up his nose. Covering up those beautiful blue eyes that Simon loves so much.

He shakes the negative thoughts from his head. It's going to go fine.

Get in. Get out.

That's all it is.

"Alright Harry, on my mark," Simon says, coiling himself, ready to run. Watching as Harry does the same, muscles tensed, poised for attack, with his hand on the hilt of his katana under the long black trench coat he's wearing.

"Three, two, one. Go!"

The pair rush from their hiding place, unsheathing their weapons as they run. But it turns out their targets are slightly more prepared than they thought.

Simon goes for the shorter one, putting his sword cleanly through his chest before he has the chance to draw his gun from inside his blazer. Watches as he falls to the ground, wearing a surprised expression, and a bloodstain on his crisp white shirt that's growing rapidly. Then glances back to Harry.

Harry isn't as fast as Simon. A couple of gunshots ring out in the quiet street, but Harry keeps advancing through them, before finally meeting his mark. Killing him swiftly, in the way Simon taught him to.