Chapter Three

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Mila is standing in the hallway, staring at Harry's door uncertainly. For every second that goes by, she clutches onto the books in her hands harder, and harder. The perks of working in a bookstore are that she get discounts on books, and today she brought home three. It may not seem like such a perk to someone who isn't interested in books, but to someone who loves books as much as Mila does it a big perk indeed.

She wonders for a minute if she should knock, and see if he is doing better, or just walk away. Her mind rewinds back, and Liam's words fill her head. 'Did he at least tell you what happened?' As she stands there staring at his door she feels a part of her aching to find out what happened. She lifts her right hand getting ready to knock while she balances the books on her left hand. She moves her fist closer to the door, but changes her mind, and lower her hand instead. She is about to turn around when Liam's words once again echo in her head, so she lifts her fist again, and knock on the door carefully.

Seconds later the door opens, revealing Harry standing on the other side dressed in all black. Their height difference makes it so he has to look down a little to meet her eyes. When their eyes do meet she sees he's are filled with confusion, and instead of greeting her he just raises his brows expecting her to state her business. Mila clears her throat awkwardly before speaking. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Harry replies right away, but shortly. Mila adverts her eyes from his, trying to think of a way to ask him what happened. When she looks back at him she finds his eyes glued to the books clutched in her hands. "That's a really good one." He nods his head gesturing towards one of the books she is holding, but she isn't sure which.

With his attention now on the books they suddenly seem ten times heavier than before. "Which one?" She asks looking down at them as well. She can feel that his eyes now has moved away from the books and that he is looking at her instead. She suddenly becomes very aware of her every movement.

He holds his hands behind his back. "The waves." He reads up the book title with such grace. She finds it at the bottom of the pile in her hands. "It's a very powerful book," Harry says making Mila look up at him. As she scans his face she notices he is much more relaxed now then the other night, but that isn't really a surprise.

Mila looks at him a little skeptical. "You don't seem like a person that reads," she admits out loud without realizing it. Heat rushes to her cheeks. She is about to apologize for being so bold, but he answers before she can manage to form the sentence.

"How so?" Harry asks drawing his brows together. He stares at her interested in what her next words will be, almost as if challenging her to speak her mind, but that is something she has ever been very good at.

"I don't know. You seem like you have more important things to do than reading," Mila says, but immediately regrets her words, because that was far from what she thought, but she just couldn't find a way to put her thoughts into words that make sense.

"Reading is a very important thing," Harry says, and for a second she thinks he might be angry, but he isn't. His voice is just stern, letting her know he really means what he said. "However, I must admit that poetry soothes my mind more then other books do." His words surprised her but also intrigues her at the same time. What kind of poems does a man like him read?

Mila nods her head amused. "Is that what you thrive to be. A poet in the day, and a bullet target in the night?" He looks down trying to hold back his laughter. A smile has formed on his face, one side of his lip goes much higher than the other, causing one dimple to go deeper into his cheek.

Harry shakes his head weakly. "Somebody has to do it," he says as he shrugs his shoulders. "What is it that you thrive to be then? I never really see you go out. The only times I really see you are when you arrive home with books in your hand, much like today." His eyes flicker down to her books.

Mila looks to the side. She hasn't really given it much thought. For the time being her priority is her work, books, and finding out who killed her parents, and as she sums up these things in her head she must admit it sounds boring. "I don't know. I guess I just can't see that far ahead. Perhaps my profession will be to stitch you up after the nights you have been out being a bullet target." They both laugh lightly.

"I don't think you want to work for me," he says. "I am a horrible boss, and I'm greedy, so you won't get paid much." He smirks at her amused, and she laughs back at him. But something tells her that his words are a lie. Something tells her that he is in fact not greedy at all. As her mind is focused on the money she starts to wonder what he really does for a living.

Mila frowns. "You sound like a horrible boss indeed." He shrugs his shoulders as if he's used to hearing it, but she figures it is just for the purpose of the joke. "I'm not really a good employee either, so I guess I have to find another profession."

"I guess so," he says, looking at her with a warm smile. "Shame, really. I guess I'll just have to slip on the stairs when I need you, so you hear and can come to help me." Mila looks into his eyes, and even though they are cold he doesn't look or seem hostile. From the look on his face, he seems comfortable.

"Yeah, I guess you just have to do that." Since he seems to be in a good mood Mila takes this as her chance to ask what she originally knocked on his door for. "If you don't mind me asking. What is it that caused the wound in your leg yesterday?"

Harry's eyes suddenly turn colder, and his body tense. The whole atmosphere around them tense, and Mila can feel it wrap around her like a cold blanket. "A gun," he replies wittily, only saying it because it is obvious.

"But who was behind the gun, and why did the person do it?" Mila asks trying to come up with a question he couldn't talk his way out of. Harry stares at her for what feels like a whole minute, before he suddenly takes a step back into his apartment, and shuts the door. Mila is left staring at the door in complete shock. He didn't manage to talk his way out of the question, but certainly found a way to avoid answering it.

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