Broken: Harrison Osterfield x reader

Chapter Two

A/N: Hey guys! I posted this originally on Tumblr, but decided to post it on here because why not? I'm going to alternate POVs in each chapter, one from Harrison's POV then one from the reader's POV. Don't forget to keep an eye out for characters from other fandoms that show up here ;) Enjoy! 

DISCLAIMER: This story involves a brief discussion of American and British politics. I am in no way enforcing, stating or explaining my own personal point of view on any issues mentioned in this story. Any mention of politics is to allow the reader to see into the character(s)'s life(s). 

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You hurried down the hall, your heels clicking against the smooth, hard floor. People walked past you, some yelling, some talking on their cell phones and some reading papers in their hands. Someone bumped into you, making you almost drop your papers. You were in a rush, so you only shot a quick "sorry!" over your shoulder before scurrying down the remaining length of the hallway. You pushed open the large, dark wood doors at the end and immediately bumped into someone else. The person, another intern around your age, muttered a curse as a large stack of files fell to the floor. You bit back a sigh and crouched down, quickly gathering them before handing them back to the intern, miraculously not dropping the massive pile of papers in your own arms. After another quick "sorry!" and a grumble from the intern, you turned right, weaving the room. It was a large, open office area. Desks were arranged in a grid formation, practically hidden beneath stacks of files, papers, news articles, binders, and books. Despite it being the 21st-century, the United States government seemed to use papers as much as they did in the last two centuries. You ran along the wall, weaving through the people that stood near the printer. You finally reached your destination, a set of French doors at the back of the office, and paused to catch your breath.

"Wild day so far?" Someone asked. You turned your head, glancing at the guard near the doors. He was a little on the short side, and fit despite him being in his fifties. He had grayish-blond hair styled in a slight combover. You sighed and smiled a little.

"Kind of," You answered. "My bus got detoured because of protesters on Massachusetts and Union Station."

"They're still going?" The guard asked. You nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your hear.

"Yeah," You responded. "Apparently people feel strongly about it."

The guard scoffed and smiled. "I'll say." He reached over and grabbed the door handle. He glanced at you. "You ready?" You took a deep breath and nodded.

"You got this," He said with a bright smile before pulling the door open, letting you slip inside.

"Thanks, Clark," You said with a smile of your own.

"No problem, Y/N," Clark answered. You stepped into the room and heard Clark shut the door behind you. You walked to the left of the room. It was large and had dark walls, deep-colored hardwood floors, and pictures of previous senators. There were a few large desks in the room, the largest one next to another door at the back. A man in his late twenties sat the desk, taping away at his desktop computer. He had dark, curly hair, brown eyes, and tan skin. He glanced up as the door closed and met your gaze. He sighed.

"Nice of you to finally show up, Ms. Y/L/N," He said flatly.

"Sorry, Tony," You said. "My bus was diverted and-"

"He's waiting for you," Tony interrupted. He nodded his head towards the door next to his desk. You gulped and nodded, walking to the door. When you rested your hand on the handle, Tony spoke up.

"Try not to get fired," He mumbled. "You're the only idiot I semi-tolerate in my presence."

You tried to see past his grumpy tone and acknowledge the fact he was trying to say something nice.