espionage [h.s.]

SIXTY TWO

song: who - lauv ft bts (adding this in bc i feel like this song really fits what's going on in this story atm)

ROCHELLE

After putting a very reluctant Connie on the train, which Harry and I had to do physically while dressed in disguises to ensure she actually got on it, we head to the hotel that Harry booked about twenty minutes prior, both of us agreeing that my flat isn't safe anymore. For safety reasons, we decide on a suite with adjoining rooms with the clause that we always have to knock before entering, unless one of us screams so we can save one another from being murdered. But aside from that, we completely have our own space, a new degree of separation between us. A distance that feels a lot larger than just one wall.

I drop the duffel bag that I packed onto the floor next to the bed, not really seeing the point in unpacking it in case we won't be here long, which we probably won't be. Over the years, I've gotten pretty used to being on the run, and staying off the grid requires you to jump between quite a few hotels. And, when you don't have another bag stuffed with cash that's been hiding in your empty flat for months like I do now, sometimes you're jumping between couches, like I've done in the past. Definitely not the safest option, as sometimes it involved me having to fend off strangers in the dark with the help of my gun, but unfortunately still an option when you're young, poor, alone, and avoiding a night on the streets. This never was an easy business to be in. Of course, after my meeting with Milos a few days ago, I now know that I never chose this job in the first place, he chose it for me and slowly built me into the perfect little soldier he always wanted. I wonder if he ever anticipated that things would turn out like this.

I flop down onto the large bed with a deep sigh, rolling onto my back to stare up at the hotel ceiling. From above, I can hear the sound of footsteps as someone walks around their room, and from next door, I can faintly hear the sound of Harry moving around too, making me wonder what he's doing. Perhaps he's pacing, which is exactly what I would be doing now if I wasn't so tired, my bones aching with exhaustion. I can't even remember the last time I had a full night's sleep, and now that we're basically on the run again, I doubt I'll get one anytime soon.

Even though I know I shouldn't, as I lie here I begin to fantasise about Harry's bed, basking in the memory of the soft mattress, the warm duvet, the scent of his pine aftershave which always clung to the sheets. I think about him too, the way he used to reach out for me in his sleep, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest, how his breath tickled the side of my neck, and the sound of his deep, sleepy voice in the mornings. It's crazy how you can miss someone so much, even when they're not that far away from you.

Rolling over onto my stomach again, I'm just about to head for a shower purely to give myself something to do when there's suddenly a knock at the adjoining door. Furrowing my eyebrows, I pull myself off the bed and pad over to answer the door, finding Harry stood on the other side with his laptop open and balanced in his hands, the screen casting a faint glow onto his skin. For a second, I'm about to make a joke along the lines of 'missed me already?', exactly like I would've done before, but then I remember everything that's happened and I quickly clamp my mouth shut before the words can escape. We're definitely not in that place where I can joke with him anymore.