15.

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'They taped over your mouth

Scribbled out the truth with their lies

Your little spies'

*

The minute I left work, I called Harry to let him know what had happened. He said few words on the phone, but I could tell by his tone that this was something to be worried about. As soon as I approached the apartment block, he was waiting outside by his car, jaw clenched already.

We didn't speak, he just followed me into the building, up the stairs to my door. Once opened, he stormed in past me, not allowing me to enter first. I didn't want to talk yet, I needed to get as comfortable as I could considering I'd been on edge all day since. I kick my shoes off, taking off my jacket and placing it on the hook behind the door, before placing my bag on the chair in the walkway. I walk towards the kitchen, flicking the kettle on without even taking notice of Harry who was pacing my living room.

I realise this is the first time he's been in my flat. Such strange circumstances we now find ourselves in. I wonder if I'll ever see his place.

My flat is modest, located in the Hackney area. Walls painted a cream colour, decorated with various assortments of fairy lights and plants. One wall is entirely made up of photos of Dad and I, with a few of my friends scattered around. It's not much, but it's home. It's small, but cosy. Exactly what I need after a long day.

Harry halts his steps, turning to me as I place a tea bag in the mug, watching as he furrows my eyebrows at me. 'What are you doing?' he quizzes.

I lift the kettle to pour some water in, letting the tea brew. 'Making a tea, what does it look like? Do you want one?'

He scoffs, shaking his head at the question. 'Atlas, this is serious,' he scolds, walking towards the counter that separates the kitchen and living room. For once, I actually think he cares about my wellbeing. Although, there's a nagging feeling at the back of my brain that knows he's only concerned because this directly involves him and his plans. I was disposable, there'd always be someone else that could replace me and do what I do.

I finish making my tea, grabbing the milk from the fridge and ignoring the tension exuding from his body. Surely I should be the one that's anxious, considering a man I don't know is stalking me.

'For fuck's sake, Atlas, will you just look at me?' he calls up, the volume of his voice causing my body to flinch. Some of tea spills out of the mug and onto my foot and I dance around for a moment in pain before placing the mug back down and glaring at him.

'You want to talk? Fine. I need you to open up, to tell me exactly what's going on and why you're being followed, because now I am at risk!' I demand, the pain in my foot still burning, but I'm too angry to sort it out. If anything, it's keeping me more alert.

He sighs, eyes moving from my own and back down to the floor. His body is leaning on his hands that rest against the kitchen counter. His teeth bite aggressively at his bottom lip. He's a mesmerising person, Harry Styles, but I know that if I look too long I'll be blinded. 'That doesn't concern you,' he breathes out, refusing to look at me now.

I laugh, almost cackling at the notion that this doesn't involve me now. I was the one that had just been approached, empty threats made through so few sentences. 'Oh, fuck off!' I call out, finally walking towards the freezer to get some peas for my foot. The pain is starting to distract me, I know the burn will blister if it's not treated soon. The minute I feel the cold hit my skin I instantly feel relief. I stand there, one foot resting on a stool. 'You do not get to drag me into something and not disclose details that may potentially harm me, Harry. It's no longer your choice!'

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