swindled || h. s. ||
- Lecturas 5,860
- Votos 320
- Partes 4
"What's the matter Indie? Missed me so much you had to break me out of prison?"
"Shut up, Styles, you know that's not why I'm here," I huffed, regretting this before it even started.
He stood up and walked to the door of his cell, his long fingers gripping around the metal bars as he leaned against them, a smirk on his lips as always, almost like it was tattooed onto his face.
"Oh, I know darling, I just want to hear you say it," he replied arrogantly.
I pinched my eyes shut and tried to calm myself down so that I wouldn't try to shank him with the nearest object I could find.
"I have a job I need to do," I replied vaguely, but he wasn't having it.
"And?" He hummed.
My fingernails dug into my palms harshly as I gripped my fists together, the words tasting like battery acid as they left my lips.
"And I can't do it without you."
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