My immortal pain in the arse

Mundane

The day we met began like any other day. I was running late to class, trying to find a shortcut through the hoards of buildings when I finally turned right down an alleyway and ran. The only sound was my feet hitting against the wet pavement, proof of last night's thunderstorm. My bag was hitting my side, both painful and obnoxious and that pairing was way too early because I'd yet to have my coffee.

I had paused long enough to dig in my bag and find my phone, when a noise in front of me had startled me and my movements ceased. It sounded like a metal bar falling, followed by a low groan. "Hello?" I called out, hand curling around the pocket knife I kept tucked in my bag for rare occurrences like this.

My feet began to move against my wish, and I found myself drawing closer to the grunts and swishing noises until I came face to face with a man, or rather his back. He had on a black, body length jacket and he was turned away from me. There was something in his hair that I could seen peeking out from beneath curls, but at my standing point, I couldn't see what. He was tall, that much I could see, but even then his body didn't completely cover the man he was currently holding up against the wall, hand around his throat.

"It is not me you have to answer to, Daniel. I have done all I can— it is the claves turn now," the man said, voice deep and accent thick as he lifted his other hand and twisted.

My first reaction when I seen the thing appear in thin air, blue and crackling as it spun in circles, was to scream and run but I was frozen in place, the fear rooting my feet to the damp asphalt. "I didn't kill them!" The smaller man argued through chocked gasps, face turning red as he clawed at the iron fist around his throat. "Jaclyn d-" he began, but his eyes found me instead and a smirk turned those blood stained lips. "You have company,"

I shook my head, fear spiking as my fight or flight kicked in. I didn't want to be spotted, didn't want to get caught and held up against the wall too as I begged for my life. The taller man tilted his head in my direction, not looking at me but just enough I knew he was acknowledging my presence before he suddenly picked the man up, and threw him towards the blue thing.

The man went inside of it, not through it, and it closed as soon as his body disappeared into it. "What are you doing here, mundane?"

Mundane? What? "I-I was going to class— I'm-I was trying to find a s-shortcut." I stumbled over my words, tears springing to my eyes as I stared at the empty space before me, wondering what the fuck I'd just seen.

"You shouldn't be here," the man forced out with a grunt, body slightly hunched forward.

"Listen, that's something we both agree on," I said, lifting a hand as I slowly began to walk backwards. "So, why don't I just forget I was ever here, and leave!" I practically scream the last word as I turn and ran. I didn't feel afraid of the man himself, but there was something fucked up going on back there and I didn't want to stick around to find out what.

I'd only made it a few feet before he was suddenly standing in front of me, creating a wall of solid body that I ran into and crumbled to the floor like a mess, both hands aching and chest tingling from where it had met his. "You can't leave. You'll run around and tell everyone you know what you just seen, and I can't exactly have that. My arse is kind of on the line." He said, voice calmer than before and sweeter, like honey and it was smooth.

Instead of defending myself, I thought it would be a good idea to stand up to him instead, remembering all the bullies who I'd done the same thing to. "Listen, I don't know who you are or what the fuck kind of shit you were doing back there," I said, picking my bag up which I slung over my shoulder. I was sure I only had courage because I hadn't yet seen him, hadn't put the grizzly face to the smooth voice now slower and thicker that he wasn't fighting, and I made the mistake of looking at him. "But—" the words died on my lips, instantly turning into ash when I finally seen him.

He was... beautiful. Chocolate waves of milky curls fell delicately to brush his shoulders, each perfect and not a single hair was out of place. He had a flower crown resting on top of his head, hair twined in with it to keep it fastened in place, and in places I could see the sharp, prickly thorns poking out, bringing the dangerous side out in the beauty. Blue eyes fell to find green ones, the mossy orbs curled around the dilated black pupil as he too, stared at me. He had strong facial features that were somehow delicate. Soft, pink lips were downturned in a frown, an adorable 'v' appearing between his eyebrows as confusion swamped his features.

He was too beautiful to be too confused, too beautiful to be dangerous and I found myself stepping closer to him. His nose was small, twitching as he inhaled my scent, and his jaw was undeniably strong as I watched it tick. "I— uh.." words no longer existed in my mind, brain short circuited and I could only image the smoke, flames and sparks shooting out of my ears. "I—" can't form a coherent sentence.

"Are a mundane interfering with the claves orders," he offered, still looking confused but his voice betrayed him. He was as affected as I was, and the slowness of his words, the thickness and careful consideration put into each single word, didn't go by unnoticed.

I shook my head. "You keep saying mundane. I'm Louis. You must have me mistaken with someone."

He laughed at this, the sound hollow and I couldn't hear his chest rattling, couldn't hear the heart in the noise but he wasn't faking. He just looked so unused to laughing. "Not mistaken, no. You're human, yes? You smell it."

Smell like it? Like what? Lifting my arm, I carefully tilted my head to subtly smell there, but all I could pick up was the faint sweetness of my dove deodorant, paired with the earthy smell rain brought. "I—I'm sorry? I didn't realize I stunk."

"Oh, you don't." He said with a small snort. "Quite the contrary. Mundanes have a sweeter smell. Their blood is fresh, and their skin isn't old. You smell great." He said, mouth immediately clamping shut as soon as he finished. Apparently he had said to much, and I agree.

He was a weirdo. One second he was telling me I stink like a human, then the next he was telling me I smell good. What the fu— wait. "What did you do with that guy!" Suddenly remembering how I'd met him in the first place, I jerked back, trying to get as far away from him as I could without moving far enough away that I couldn't smell that... scent rolling off of him in delicious waves. It was woodsy and sweet, with a hint of spice and underlying of mint.

Rolling his eyes, the man moved to lean against the wall with a leg kicked out behind him, making the black trench coat open slightly and reveal the black skinny jeans he had on and the bright, purple buttoned up shirt. "He was a rogue vampire. Killed a bunch of people."

"A-A what?" Blinking back the confusion, I faltered in my step back and nearly fell. "Who are you?"

"Harry Styles," he said with a cocky grin, "High warlock of London."

Laughing, because it all just clicked into place, I began to look around, trying to see if I could see Leah or Jane. This had to be a prank. "Very funny. Who put you up to this, Harry? If that's even your real name."

"Oh it is, biscuit." Pushing up off the wall, he began to walk slow circles around me. "Has been longer than you've been alive." He paused behind me, and I could feel his breath ghosting down my neck, could feel the goosebumps rising on my skin. "Now, leave before I change my mind. Or stay, and deal with—" walking in front of me, he held his arms open and offered me the sight of his lean, perfectly sculpted body hidden behind the thick coat and too many layers of clothing, "me." Normally I would take him up on that offer, but not today.

Despite the sudden urge to be closer to him, I managed to ignore the itch that began beneath my skin, and I took the offer. Quickly moving around him, I took off running, not offering him a second glance as the words from the scary stories I'd been told, legends, rattled around in my brain, paired with the one single word from the fantasy land. I'd always admired Warlocks, had quite a crush on Harry Potter— wait a second! It all makes sense now. Why he said his name was Harry, a.. a warlock named Harry. It wasn't a coincidence.

I dialed Leah's number as soon as I was mingled in with the flow of people continuing on with their day, rushing to get to work or school or something similar. "Funny," I said as soon as she answered. "I thought you'd outgrown the childish pranks, Leah. For Christ sakes, you're twenty four."

"What the hell are you talking about, Louis?" She asked, and I had to give it to her. She sounded genuinely shocked and confused.

Rolling my eyes, I sidestepped a man at the back of a Starbucks line that went clear out the door, and eyed the small coffee cart a block down. "The warlock named Harry. Really? As if I wouldn't figure it out." Giving a small snort, I pressed the crosswalk button with my elbow and eyed the small screen with the giant red hand. "What did you use? A fake wall for that blue thing. Who was the guy? Cause I gotta tell you, I was genuinely convinced he'd disappeared into some floating orb thing."

Starting to walk once the numbers began to count down, I fixed the strap over my shoulder so it was no longer digging into my neck, and brushed a hand down the soaked front flap. Great. "Louis... Are you using weed again?"

"What! No. Haven't touched that shit since high school. But what does that have to do with anything?"

When I'd reached the other side of the street, eyes no longer fixed on the white lines showing where you were supposed to walk, I counted ten steps in my head and stopped in front of the coffee stand. "Because, either you're on some other drugs, or somebody else is fucking with you because I haven't the slightest idea what you're on about. You're off your trolley Louis, as I've been telling mum for months."

Cupping my hand over the speaker on my phone, and not believing what she was saying at all, I ordered a tall Yorkshire tea with a splash of milk and four lumps of sugar -yum-, before bringing the phone back to my ear. "And you expect me to believe that? You're the only one, other than mum, who knew of my Harry Potter obsession. It's not a coincidence that I just ran into some block who claims to be a warlock with the same name."

"Listen, Lou, even if it was me, I wouldn't have used the blue thing you're talking about. Whatever it is, it doesn't sound like it's from the books." And she was right, it looked like nothing I'd ever seen before. "Besides, I've been in America all week. Book signing, remember? If I was to prank you, I'd want to be there in person."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. It wasn't her. Couldn't have been. Leah has done a lot of shit, but even she wasn't capable of doing visual effects like that. The most she would have done was waited until dark to use a projector to make it seem like someone had, snape, had cast the patronous spell. Huffing, I offered the man a wad of crumpled bills and took my offered tea.

It immediately warmed my hand through the paper cup, fingertips blazing and tingling as the warmth chased away the chill in my fingers. "Right, right."

"I'm worried about you, Louis. You've been odd—"

I hung up without letting her finish the sentence, a sudden tingle running up my spine, the feeling of being watched magnified when I turned around even if I was in the middle of a busy street and people did cast me the occasional glance. It was more then that.

And it wasn't even seconds later that I seen that head of chocolate curls ducking behind a sign outside a clothing store, his awkwardly long body somehow disappearing completely behind it. He was following me, and there was a reason. I knew it.

Somebody was Fucking with me, and it had to be someone who knew of my family. My mum was far too "proper" to do something like this, so it was either one of Leah's little gremlins, or-or. I don't actually know.

Stomping towards where I'd seen him, I shoved my way past sweaty bodies, wishing yet again that people knew what showers, deodorant and cologne was. There was far too many bodies I was bumping into, and far too many body stenches that I could smell.

Again, I seen the curls just behind the side and I rounded the corner as fast as I could. "Who are—" I stopped mid shout, eyes widening comically when I seen the toddler standing behind the sign, head full of short, chocolate curls. He jumped at my yelling, tears welling in his eyes as his bottom lip began to wobble. "I—uh. Sorry?"

The kid took off running, in full blown hysterics, right into a buff woman's arms. Not my cup of tea. Following suit, I ducked behind the same sign I'd seen Harry jump behind when the woman looked at me. I didn't even have time to kiss my ass goodbye before I was falling, arms flailing and body going limp as the air supported me before I was deposited on something soft, fluffy, springs coming to life and bouncing. "What. The. Fuck." I hissed, entire arm burning from the scalding hot tea that had followed after me and popped open, making the sticky, sweet smelling liquid pour all over my arm.

I rolled over and was greeted with soft sheets, red in color and slippery, like silk. The room was plain, walls white and bare aside from a single mirror that hung on the wall opposite of the one the bed was pushed against. "I see you've made it safely." A voice said, and I don't think anyone has ever mastered a half roll, half jump quite like I have. I managed to tangle myself in the silky sheets, lower half of my body becoming tangled in the heavenly feeling hell. A very manly squeak, that actually sounded like it came from a teenage girl, squeezed out of my throat and I was falling ass backwards off the bed.

Only... to never meet the floor.

"Believe me now?" That same voice asked, tantalizingly familiar but in my current state it could belong to Queen Fucking Elizabeth and I wouldn't know it.

My eyes were screwed shut, face obviously still very attractive but scrunched up with my mouth permanently open. "You can open your eyes, you stupid mundane. You aren't falling."

Ah, Harry. And despite the feeling of still falling, I somehow believed him and my eyes flew open at the sound of the apparently new nickname I'd adopted. He was right. I wasn't falling, but was rather suspended in the air, feet still tangled in the sheet that was still on the bed, and beneath my armpits was the same blue color I'd seen earlier that the man had disappeared through, only now it was thin, like a rope. It was holding me up, keeping my from falling, and when I followed the rope down my body and across the bed, I seen Harry standing there, looking both creepy and fucking beautiful. Odd pairing, no?

"What have you done to me? Where are we!!"

"Saved your arse, that's what I've done. Thank me later," with a cheeky grin, he lifted his hand that the end of the rope was seemingly floating out of, and I followed the movement. He set me on the bed, movements oddly careful for a stranger, and a man who he just kidnapped me.

"You call taking me against my will, saving me? Let me fall, arsehole!"

"Okay." He responded with a shrug, and with a flick of his wrist an invisible force was shoving me off the bed and I was falling, sprawling on my hands and knees to the wooden floor.

"Funny," I gasped out, all air knocked out of my lungs.

"I surely thought so."

When I'd managed to suck in enough air I no longer felt light headed, I crawled to my knees and threw my arms over the bed to heft myself up enough I could peak over the edge and glare at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he folded a leg up on the mattress and laced his fingers together before cupping them over his knee. "Haven't figured it out. I've been trying to figure it out for centuries. Let me know when you have the answer? I'd love to finally know. It's been annoying."

Was it possible to hate someone this much when I'd just met them? Apparently. "You're seriously off your rocker."

"For years. Haven't set on one since nineteen twenty..." he cut off, fingers tapping the air as he counted on them, head tilted to the side as he thought over his answer. "Nineteen twenty seven. Man, I would kill to go back to those days. Loraine made a mean apple pie."

Scoffing, I stood to my shaky legs and looked around for the door, only to see there was none. Or a window. "I want to leave. Now."

"You're awfully demanding for someone so small."

Okay. Now he'd hit a sensitive button. "I am not small, you curly haired freak! Now let me go!"

I stuttered over my breath when he flinched back at my lashing, eyes fogging at the cruel name I'd called him. "You don't get around much, do you? You can't judge someone for their height, then get hurt when they call you a name."

"Why not?"

"Because," I answered, unsure myself. "It doesn't work that way."

He hummed in acknowledgement and stood. "Your rules are confusing."

"You keep referring to me as human, and mundane, and saying 'your' rather than 'ours'. You're as much human as I am,"

He laughed then licked his bottom lip, teeth following the distracting movement and clamping down. "Am not."

"Are so." I argued, but had a moment of clarity when I heard my own voice. I was arguing with a grown man like he was a child, while being in a doorless room against my own free will. "You didn't bring me here to argue, so spill. Come on. I've already missed one class, and you're obviously you're working for my sister. Can't we just skip over this whole thing, and get to the end when you spill her clever prank?"

"This isn't a prank," he said, shaking his head. "It's real, like both you and I."

"As if I would beli-" I began, but my voice was suddenly gone. Harry held a clenched hand in front of his face, waving it when I looked at him. No matter how loud I tried screaming, not even a peep came out.

"I was tired of listening to you," he admitted, moving his hand down to his side. "So, until I've said all I need to, you'll be unable to speak. Giving me a chance to say something without your short arse interrupting or refusing to believe what I'm saying."

Smoothing out his suit jacket... wait, when the fuck did he have time to change into a suit? It was purple, the same color as the last shirt, and the buttoned up shirt beneath it was a simple white. "I am a warlock, and that was a vampire I was dealing with earlier. The 'floating orb thing' you seen, was a portal. I sent him to the clave,"

The clave?

"Yes, the clave."

He's answering my thoughts!

"Ah, yes I am. A small telepathy spell, and you can really do anything." Rolling his shoulders, he moved his free hand over the wall and a window appeared. Through the foggy glass, I could see dirt with a tiny crack of light filtering in above it.

We're underground, aren't we?

"Yes. However, I brought you done here and took your voice so I could talk. Not just answer your questions." Opening his palm, a glass appeared in it, sloshing with brown liquid that he took a sip from before offering it to me.

And no, I wasn't drinking shit he offered. He was loony, a Fucking maniac and I didn't care what he showed me. Didn't change the facts. He shrugged. "As you wish."

Realizing I wasn't going to be let go soon, I crawled up on the bed and made myself comfortable, expecting to hear the hiss of pain I was sure would follow when the sheet brushed my arm and my attention was drawn to the red, angry burns that ran across my arm. "I'll fix that later, but you must listen to me first."

Fix it? How?

"All will be answered. Patience, my young mundane."

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed a pillow from behind me and placed it on my lap to fold my arms on. If I was being held without any say, literally, I might as well make myself at home. My eyes found his body, and I groaned in disappointment when I finally took everything in and realized what I was missing out on. A normal day, I would pounce on the opportunity to talk to him, maybe even let him take my virtue, but it was always the pretty ones that were fucking insane. Go on.

He smirked, and I knew he was through peaking. "Believe what you want, but this," he raised his hand, a ball of blue floating perfectly above it, hovering over the fingers decorated with many different rings, "is real. Vampires, werewolves, warlocks, angels and demons, we're all real. And I could lie and say that we're all nice, but we're not.

"You're the unlucky soul who happened to walk down the wrong alleyway, and I was given orders to erase your memories as soon as I was done with my task at hand, but you're immune to that. You seen past the glamour, could see us when you weren't meant to, and they really thought a silly little memory charm would take that all away," shaking his head as he t'sked, Harry sat on a chair that randomly appeared in the corner and crossed his legs.

"See, I knew there was something different about you the moment you didn't walk right past me— us, not seeing what was going on like every other mundane. But they refused to believe me, until I gave them proof. No mortal, mundane or likewise, should be able to enter this room without spontaneously combusting. The wards make sure of that,"

We both looked around at the same time, and I wasn't sure if it was one of his mind tricks but I could see the blood as it seeped through the white paint, watched as horror stricken faces became painted in the walls. I could hear the screams, the begging, all the torture and pain that had happened in this room, and simply closing my eyes did nothing.

"You feel it, I know you do." He sounded smug. "You can't deny it, and neither can they. See, I believe you're a sensitive. Not a full blooded angel, but enough angel blood courses through your veins that makes you immune to all the warlock charms. But there's... there's something else. Something I can't put my finger on."

My throat welled up as the fear crashed over me and I was left drowning as my sobs fell on deaf ears. I could feel them ripping my throat to shreds, yet not even a gasp came out.

So what, then? What are you going to do to me?

Even in my head, my voice sounds whiny; breathless and desperate. "Send you home. I've convinced the clave leader you are not a threat, and please do not make me a liar. I have a reparation to uphold."

Why bring me here in the first place then?

"To warn you. If you squawk to anyone, including that little mundane sister of yours, about what you seen or heard, I will not be able to stop them when they murder you and your entire family."

Murder! Okay, this game has went on for too long. Jumping to my feet, I flattened my hands on the -now- white walls and began to feel, searching for a door even I knew I wouldn't find.

Leah couldn't be drug into this. Harry, or whatever his name is, had followed me and got her name and who knows what else? They could have her now, could have my mum. What do you want? I asked him silently, speaking without the words I had taken from me.

My family was far too important to me, so I stopped in my efforts to find the hidden door, and instead let my head fall against it. I was giving up, or in.

"Personally? Nothing. The clave? Your silence. As long as you keep quiet, you and your family remain safe." He said, but in his voice I could sense something was off. He sounded reluctant while also a little... pained? To be saying this?

Was this hurting him to do?

I know he heard my silent thought, but he didn't answer it. Instead, I heard some fluttering behind me, soft movements followed by a gentle squeak of the chairs springs. "You will be safe. As long as you keep your end of the promise," he whispered softly, voice right in my ear and I could feel his body behind me, lined perfectly with my own.

But when I turned around, I wasn't in the room any more. I was standing in the middle of my own flat, the burns on my arms gone and.. "Hello?" My voice was back!

Had I just imagined the entire thing? Had my tea been drugged, and I'd been wondering the streets aimlessly, fueled by drugs and common sense gone?

Maybe I had.

Moving hands over my body to assure I had all body parts, I swallowed thickly and darted my eyes around. I was alone. Taking a few shaky steps forward, I couldn't help but look around, paranoia ringing in my ears. It was there, on my table in the middle of my kitchen that I seen the small box, looking in place to a stranger but so out of place to me.

Cautiously approaching it, I poked it with an umbrella I'd found leant against the door and when it didn't move, I took a step closer to it. Written in neat cursive at the top was my name in black ink, a single yellow rose resting on top. My favorite.

I slipped off the lid and inside was a white, folded piece of paper. Gently, I picked it up and studied it without unfolding it before setting it off to the side when a reflection of light caught my eye. Sitting nestled on a small, red pillow was a blue crystal, top enclosed in gold. When I picked it up, a gold chain wrapped around my fingers and the crystal rest heavily in the palm of my hand, the dark blue now lighting up to a brighter blue.

"What the—" I asked the air, not finishing the sentence in favor of picking up the paper. I unfolded it carefully, still on high alert in case some boogeyman jumped from out of my closet.

The letter read;

I am not your enemy, nor your friend. I am simply a man looking out for you and trying to do what I think is best. In the box you'll find a blue crystal. Careful with it, because it is older than your great, five times over, grandmother. It is real, and valuable. If it lit up when you touched it, like I know it will, that means my speculation was correct and you're more than just a simple mundane. Put it on, and wear it always. It's enchanted. Nobody will be able to track you, and as long as they have bad intentions, nobody can harm you. I can't make you do anything, but to stop 'freaks like me' from finding you, I suggest putting it on as soon as possible. Word has already gotten out, and you're quite popular, Louis Tomlinson.

Now, enjoy your freedom and stay true to your promise. I'll be watching.

With care, H.

P.S. Steer clear of alleyways for a while, yeah?

Okay, what the actual fuck?

——

And I suppose that's where our story began.