The Short Stories of Harry Styles

Shards of Glass: Part 3

He had been so wrong. 

It had been exactly what he needed though...even if he hadn't intended to kill her.

That had been when Harry had finally come out of the shadows and into the light. 

It had been exhilarating. 

After that night, his kinder side did his absolute best to hide his dark self away. He had thought that you had caught on. He had shown up to work the next day with shaking hands but all you had done was place your hands on the sides of his face, gently rubbing circles into his temples, and cooing him into complete and total surrender. 

He thinks that he feels for you...but he isn't quite sure how deep those feelings go outside of his innocent side's feelings. He knows that he has thought about wrapping his large hands around your fragile little throat many times...but that other Harry wouldn't allow him to get close enough.

Until last night. 

Ah, how close he had been to getting that rapturous freedom. He'd kissed you how he had always wanted to. The sensation of your mouth on his however, had caught him off guard at first. He had hesitated in a way he hadn't before. 

It was something in the way you tasted, sweet like a jolly rancher, cherry flavored...or was it watermelon?....no matter...it had been simply divine. Your kiss had been a burst of color that his tormented soul had been unprepared for and now...he wasn't going to allow himself to be pushed back out of the spotlight. Sweet Harry was screaming and causing him an annoying headache but...pain was his kink...clearly. 

Harry smiled upon the woman before him and laid his elbows onto the counter so that he could lean forward into her space. He knew that he could not risk his cover and latch his hands around her neck...not after your brilliant mind had begun to concoct accurate theories...so he cracked his knuckles to alleviate the pressure and addiction there in the meantime. After all, he had promised to be a good boy earlier to whoever was listening if that meant he'd get to be able to fuck you into oblivion soon with his hands wrapped exquisitely around your throat. 

"Have you had any suspicious activities or customers within the past year?" Harry drummed his twitching fingers against the fine glass counter top, doing his best not to acknowledge the ache he was feeling in each digit. 

"No, not that I am aware of...I mean...it is a sex club that dallies in kinks." She chuckled and it sounded wrong. It wasn't musical like your laugh, it was more like a dolphin choking for air. 

"I see...you wouldn't happen to have any customers or workers that are identical twins?" Harry knew this was only for show so that he could go back to you with a proper report, something believable. He internally groaned at the thought of himself being a golden retriever, your very own lap dog.

"Again, none that I'm aware of." Harry can tell she is growing bored of the idle conversation and with a glint in her eyes she leans even farther forward, trailing a stubby finger against the back of his hand in a means of seduction. Harry could feel his insides curling and purring at the idea of taking her willingly and then draining the life from her with ease but, with much force and out of sheer will, he pulled his hand away and stood tall. 

"That will be all. If we have any further questions, we'll call." Harry stated bluntly and stalked off, angry with himself that he didn't just do what he wanted. 

When he was behind the wheel again he was clenching it tightly, hoping to alleviate some of the need to squeeze something...anything. 

His softer self was yelling in his ears again. Demanding to be let back into the spotlight but Harry was not having it. He simply reached for the radio and blasted whatever Top 40 trash was playing so that he could drown out the wails and pleas he heard inside. With a sneer, he reversed out of the sleazy parking lot and drove back towards the station. His heart palpitated at the thought of seeing you again, so quickly, and a nasty grin shined bright along his pearly whites at the idea of what naughty things he could say to get that lovely shade of red to tinge your cheekbones once more.