killer instinct - || h.s. ||

12 *

" why i gotta fuck you up to make you fuck like that? "

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aurora astor. *

Sitting at my dining table in my lonely apartment, the sound of the keys on my keyboard clicks quietly through the white noise whilst I get work done. I'm fully zoned in on this with the caffeine in my veins and it keeps me awake right now.

I try to think about anything and everything other than the fact that I was yet another reason for someone's death, even though I don't even understand the full extent of it and that's what is picking away at my core.

I believe it's safe to say that I have been incredibly trapped in my head.

Instead, I jump at the resounding knock that echoes at my door, finding myself incredibly confused at the given situation – no one ever comes to my place. My fingers freeze on the keys and I hear the knock bang again, forcing me to get up and I walk over cautiously. Lifting up on my tippy toes to look through the peephole, my panic subsides but my confusion grows when I see his tall figure through the fisheye lens.

"Ace." He complains and bangs the door again, making me huff and I unlock it and open it up quickly before he can continue to complain. His lips curl up as he leans over the door with a pair of neutral trousers that cut off at the bottom and a soft, sage green sweater with a white undershirt peeking out – the color accentuates his eyes to the fullest. His keys are on a carabiner clipped to one of his belt loops to complete the look, forcing me to look down at my own outfit for a second in comparison – fuck.

"Hey–" he starts with a smile on his face and I shake my head.

"What are you doing here?" I snap at him and he chuckles, stepping into my apartment. I huff at him as he pushes me back and shuts my front door.

He looks around and kicks his vans shoes off like he's staying and I scoff at him. "No, no, you're not staying," I tell him and he chuckles again in amusement at all of this as he walks in to see my books all scattered across the dining table with my laptop open with the glow of the screen.

"I've decided to change up my methods tonight." He says and I walk over as he sits himself down at my dining table, pulling one of my textbooks to him and looking down at it. "And so you're not fighting tonight." He says and I freeze, looking at him like he's insane as his green eyes lift from the textbook and he smiles at me innocently.

"That is not up to you," I tell him, leaning back against my countertop as I glare at him.

"You can try." He says confidently whilst flipping the page in my textbook, laughing a little as he finds this all amusing.

"Are you joking?" My brain decides to ask and he snorts at me, making me furrow my eyebrows together.

"Does it look like I'm joking? I'm legitimately babysitting tonight." He mutters under his breath as he shakes his head and I scoff. "What the hell am I doing with my life?" He mutters to himself as he scans the pages of the book, flipping through pages with his ring-clad fingers.

"No one is asking you to, Harry–" I start and he holds up his hand to stop me, seeing the rings glimmering on it.

"Wrong." He states and my eyes go wide as he leaves it at that. I sit down, watching his eyes drift up to me while I lean over the table.

"Who?" I ask in need of an obvious answer to a slip up like that. He chuckles through his nose at me, making my heart drop down to the floor as he shakes his head.