Assassin (h.s)

prologue

"Fuck," I groan in frustration as I got pinned on the ground, Harry having a firm grip on both my wrists. He cheekily smiled, shining his pearly and perfect white teeth above from me, his cross necklace dangling on my face.

I glanced at my gun that was only couple inches away from my hand, but Harry's iron grip made it hard to even wiggle my fingers.

Harry got distracted by my moving fingers, making him the perfect prey. I took my opportunity of him being distracted and flipped him over, his hands slipping off my wrists. In a swift motion, I grabbed his wrists and pinned him down, my legs firmly holding him in place.

Harry's eyes widen, a subtle smirk on his face as he scans my body.

"Huh, didn't know you like to top, Cherry." My alias name rolled off his soft, cherry lips. I rolled my eyes, reaching for my gun that was lying above his head.

I paused in my tracks as I realized something hard against my left thigh. I knit my eyebrows together and look down, trying to figure out what could possible be that hard.

Harry's gun.

I look back up to see Harry raising his eyebrows with a cocky smile on his face, "Thought it was something else, angel?"

I scoff, a low chuckle escaping from my lips as I shake my head. "That's cute, although, the big and bad Harry dying from his own gun... would be kind of symbolic," I paused then grabbed his gun quickly, Harry trying to get me off with his free hand.

I pointed the gun directly at his heart, trailing it down to his belly button. I tucked it under his pants, watching as fear washed his eyes.

"Woah woah, not down there! I need that to satisfy women, you could've just asked Cherry. I didn't know you were this shy," I rolled my eyes at him, placing the gun back onto his forehead.

Sweat rolls down his face as he nervously chuckles, his eyes narrowing onto the gun.

"Your gun has... rhinestones?" I ask, looking at the design on the grip.

He scoffs, "What's wrong with that?

"Shut up, nothing," I mumble, darting my eyes back to his nervous green eyes. Harry looked away from the gun, looking directly into my eyes.

"Pull it, Cherry. What's stopping you?" He whispers, curly strands of his hair slowly falling to the side as he sweats nervously.

I pucker my lips together, trying to pull myself to pull the trigger.

I've killed before, many times. I don't understand what's stopping me now.

"Come on, pull it," he continues to whisper, lust falling off with the words.

I bite my tongue, frustrated at myself.

It's either kill or be killed.

"That's right, you enjoy having that power huh? Being dominant? You enjoy having the one and only Harry Styles under her own hands huh? Let alone, under my own gun," he starts off, tilting his head with a limitation, the gun still pressed against his forehead.

"I bet your crew is going to fucking cheer you on, congratulate you for having my head, Cherry. But, I gotta say, it's a little pathetic," he continues, clicking his tongue.

He was right.

I do enjoy having him under me, the power consuming my whole mindset as I feel like the dominant one. Once I pull this trigger, I get to be on top, better than everyone else.

I bitterly laugh, shaking my head as I place my finger on the trigger.

"Wow, Mr. Styles. Gotta admit, didn't know you would be as attractive as they said you are," I slowly say, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Too bad I have to kill you."