𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (hs)

𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

I sat stalled in a small trance, my breath still heaving from what just took place. It all transpired so quick, it was difficult to process through my head as I did not expect that to occur. My eyes roamed the room and targeted the carpet where he stood not too long ago.

I hoist myself from the kitchen island and wended my way towards the living room, peeling back the thick carpet from the door lay hidden beneath. I squint in concern, the lock, as I recognized, was locked differently than before, the label now facing the opposite direction than what it was before. Biting my lip, I stretch the carpet back in place, smoothing the creases away with my foot. Did Harry know about the door? Why would he have been meddling under the carpet if he was here solely for the purpose of fixing a roof leak? Why would he deceive me about why he was here if it wasn't anything major?

I wanted to know what was in there. There had to be keys settled somewhere in this house that could unlock that door. I began pulling every drawer and cabinet in the kitchen open, shifting through the clutter that housed each space. My fingers would clasp a key or two, my greasy, sunscreen fingers struggling to attempt to squeeze each key into the lock that sadly wouldn't budge. After awhile of delving, I finally huffed a frustrated sigh of defeat. There's nothing.

Was I demented? Why am I so obsessed with a simple door underneath a carpet? It literally could be a dainty crawlspace for plumbing pipes. Perhaps it's because I've never witnessed anyone bother with it. You'd think after being here for years upon years, I would've acknowledged that door at some point due to maintenance or whatever.

* * *

Sauntering down the street, I set to free my mind off things and visit a local ice cream shop to purchase myself a treat before dinner. I scoop a piece of banana from my banana split as I trail down the warm sidewalk, slipping it into my mouth as I float left and right to avoid colliding the others that came to enjoy the summer sunset. The faint sound of a steel drum misted down the road to overcome the silence of nature.

I mindlessly wandered into a corner shop, the mini glass-blown sculptures of dolphins and flamingos catching my eye. Examining every piece, I hid between aisles, flowing back and forth through them all, not yet wanting to head back home. As I got towards the end of the store, my focus dazed from the glass whale in front of me to a man that stood in the distance outside of the stand. My ears sharpened at the familiar voice.

"I was able to receive a few kilos early this afternoon." He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his white, flare trousers, standing tall and confident, looking ahead of him at the town roaming.

I bowed my head a little lower, not wanting my presence known as I quietly moved down the aisle to get a little closer, pretending to shop to not look suspisous. A man standing beside him took a long drag of his cigarette, breathing in through his teeth as he looked ahead as well, flicking the ashes down by his side.

"Just be sure to make it down to the port by tonight, get it moving to mainland." He blew, white smoke clearing the air before him. "You've been a bit delayed this past week, Styles. Quite not likely of you."

"There's been circumstances."

"Not an excuse."

A moment of silence surrounded the two, and even though I wasn't apart of the situation, I felt the tension. There was an aura to this man that screamed frightening.

"I've got it under control. The family is due farewell in a week or two, and at that time I'll be back in prime and makeup for the inconvenience I've caused you. You've got my word."

What? Was he talking about my family?

The man turned to face Harry, taking a drag before removing the bud from between his lips, pointing a finger at him as he pursed his lips to let out a cloud of smoke.

"I'll remember that." He lightly grasped before sauntering off alone.

"Malik." Harry clicked his tongue to himself as he glanced down at his feet, kicking the concrete before heading in the opposite direction.

Malik? Was that guy named Malik? Who was he? A kilogram of what? What did this have to do with my family being brought up? Did Malik know us? I took in a sharp breathe before I decided to finally make my way back home.

* * *

My father and brother sat in the living room, elbows on their knees as they held a deck of cards in their hands, the flimsy pieces strewn all over the coffee table in a tough game. I watched from across the room, my butt sat in a high chair at the kitchen island as I scraped my fork from my plate to my mouth, transporting delicious, buttery mashed potatoes. My mom stood a few feet from me, stacking newly cleaned plates back in the cabinets.

"Do we have storage?"

"What?"

"Do we have a space for storage in this house?" I mumble between bites.

"Yes, the shed out back." My mother responded. "Why?"

"Just wondering."

Now I had a strange feeling Harry has something to do with that hidden space.

And I had to figure out what.

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a small, trash update. dearly sorry for the wait on updating the story! feel free to vote and comment everything that runs through ur mind while reading!
i really appreciate all the feedback!
it makes me inspired to write more!
see ya in the next chapter!