killer instinct - || h.s. ||

10

" i don't forgive you but please don't hold me to it "

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aurora astor.

Sitting at the diner by myself today, I'm somewhat half out of it tonight with my music playing through my headphones and filtering into my ears. I try to singularly focus tonight to get all this work for my classes done, just research after research while my mind is spinning with all this information.

Remembering that night, remembering the feeling the drug gave me was absolutely amazing but good things are always temporary.

My feet are propped up on the other side of the booth as I type on my laptop, sipping on the coffee and writing out notes across my notebook paper. My head is constantly lifting up to the screen and then back down to the paper on the table, forcing an ache through the muscles at the back of my neck. My body is extremely tired from the lack of sleep I've been hardly accumulating in general, unable to stop thinking about one thing from the warehouse.

The blood on the floor, that goddamn blood on the floor scares me. It makes my mind jump to conclusions that I pray aren't true and it scares the life out of me.

The idea that all of this shit, searching for him all these years and putting everything aside just to find him to find out that he's dead. Even if that's the most likely reality of this – I need proof. I brush off the rattling through, physically sitting up a little more and putting my focus back on my work.

Surely enough, I drift from my school work and pull out my phone, scrolling through the pictures to find the ones from the warehouse. I sit up a little more, taking a breath whilst I start looking into this Anderson guy. Typing the name on the sheet into the internet, I wait for the search to load and knit my eyebrows together before my lips part slightly.

Officer Anderson, chief at the station here in the city. He's with the police and he's trafficking shit with the Crescents, are you fucking kidding me?

Ki wasn't lying.

I look into it more, scrolling through it, and get deeper and deeper into this void of chaos that exists amid Chicago. My fingers instantly stop, noticing a Mia Anderson, daughter of the chief at the station – the missing girl from the news the other day, on the radio.

I get so lost in the research of these new people, not even realizing how much time passes whilst I add more connections to this never-ending web in my head.

That all comes crashing down as I don't even notice the door opening with my music pumping in my ears.

A figure sits themselves down right in my booth, eliciting a jump from me and I slam my laptop shut in an instant. I take in his tired features as he sits in my booth in a hoodie with those strings tied in a little bow and my lips part in shock.

"Hiding something, Ace?" He asks, reaching for my laptop and I immediately slap his hand, forcing him to retract it and groan at me. I just shake my head in disbelief, pulling one of my headphones out of my ears.

"What the hell are you doing?" I snap at him and he chuckles at me. "Find another fucking table, Harry," I say to him sharply. His lips just turn up at the obviously annoyed state he's put me in.

He reaches for my coffee and I just watch him in stunned shock. He sniffs lightly before bringing my straw to his lips and sipping it. He smirks at me and I rub my dry eyes with the back of my hand.

"I liked you when you were high, baby." I hear him say as his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek and my lips part in shock whilst I stare at him.