❝Calm your tits, man. You got your fucking dark roast latte with an extra shot of fuckboy all over my arm!❞
During an evening in May, Tasha Aquino finally acquires her chance at an adventure. However, it comes at a deadly price and her seemingly un...
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ten ◌ a princess and her rules
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Harry was abysmally more intelligent than I gave him credit for. In the last two years I've known him, he showed no evidence; nothing to verify a wide range of intellect. Harry was always asshat Harry, sipping kombutcha and drowning my mother with dessert ideas.
I found him to be annoying and condescending, a terrible mixture that only told me one thing: Harry lacked depth. Yet here I was, standing at the LA Port with this green-eyed fuckboy, who impressively developed a piece of tech with the ability to detect some heinous, synthetic drug.
"I found the freight ship containing the Psilofetamine," Harry announced. The grin spreading across his face like wildfire showed pride and accomplishment. His eyes were combusting with an insatiable determination, like a mother lion's gaze latching onto her prey. Harry was the predator and the massive steel ship was his feeble target.
"Which one is it?" I asked, trying to follow his beam of focus.
"Red ship at the end. Seventy yards, straight ahead," Harry answered. He stared at the carrier, a half smirk planted on his face and I could feel the electricity surging across his skin, crackling with excitement.
A grin of my own materialized and I looked at the green eyed boy with mischief.
"What?" Harry's eyes squinted in suspicion.
"Race ya."
The smug expressions decorating both our faces immediately disappeared, and suddenly we were cannonballs blasting towards a bullseye. Without another word uttered, Harry and I bolted straight for the gargantuan carrier ship. Sprinting across the dock, my body swaddled itself in blurry wisps of the surrounding environment.
My evening panned into a thrilling, heart-pulverizing, and stimulating night. I took it moment by moment; executing the plan without deviation. I plunged headfirst into ANTI's psychotic agenda at face value. I didn't put any emotion into it besides focus and unwavering determination. I couldn't be emotional. At least ones of sadness, weakness, and fear— they were a distraction.
"Tash and I are flying into target. One-hundred yards east of our start," Harry disclosed.
"Copy," Niall responded.
Harry and I were neck in neck as we both rushed towards the boat. On flat grounds, without obstacles, the curly-headed douchepants almost impressed me with his speed. However, throw in an unexpected impediment and Harry dissolved into a bag of dicks.
Upon approaching the massive vessel, we were met with an intricate piece of machinery blockading our path. Harry diverted his trail and rounded the machine, sloppily climbing over metal barrels. For me however, I leapt onto the contraption and grasped onto a heavy duty hook attached to a chain. The momentum garnered at the point of impact, allowed my body to swing like Tarzan on a vine.
