What Happens After Forever? [h.s]

"Ready to have some fun?" I smirked, his eyes and mouth simultaneously widening as he nearly choked on his own words. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

The classical music hummed in the background as the only other sound you could hear was the ignition of the blowtorch in my hands and the merciful pleas of the man strapped to the chair below me. How pathetic he sounded almost made me want to put him out of his misery. Key word, almost.

"The Devil has been itching to come out and play, Tommy." I watched with admiration as the iron dipped into the flame, it now glowing a bright shade of red. "Tonight's your lucky night." I hummed lowly, tongue darting out to wet my bottom lip.

I've heard my fair share of blood curdling screams before, but the animalistic noise that came out of his mouth when I branded him with a scar that he'd be carrying around for the remainder of his short life topped my list. What a little bitch even in his last moments.

"Peekaboo," I dipped my head down level with his, marveling over my work thus far, "Here he is."

______

Harry Styles.

When you hear the name what's the first thing that pops into your head?

Ask some and they may say he is an established man who has the buisness world in a chokehold. Surely it's not a lie.

Ask Kiara Houston and you'll probably get something along the lines of 'the asshole who took a match to my life and watched it burn with a smile' when put into simpler terms. Surely that isn't a lie either.

You either admire him or hate him. There is simply no in between.