"What can I say, What can I do
This is who I am and I am hurting you
What can I say, what can I do
No matter how strong my feelings are
I always end up hurting you"
~What can I say, Dead by April
Harry's POV
"Mr. Styles, I think you are good to go now." The words that were music to my ears were finally spoken by my dickhead of a doctor.
Mr. Wilson, who is my doctor, checks me one last time, more like observes me for the last time. Hopefully it's the last time. He has a clipboard gripped in his hands as he is checking all my injuries and writing them down there.
"Your injuries are still there though but you are fit and fine to go home." He gives a crooked smile to me.
Injury. I scoff at hearing that word. The fuck injury. It is just a small stab on my shoulder not some full blown heart attack.
And besides, I am always fit and fine. I mean look at me. I couldn't look much better.
There are still bandages and gauges all around my arms and chest. Not to mention a fucking big patch on my shoulder.
I get up from my hospital bed after what feels like a century. Well I did get up to go to the restroom but that is that. It is like they don't want me to move much.
I stand up and stretch my legs and hands, turning my neck left and right as if I am in a boxing ring going to bash my opponent in the head. Mr. Wilson, still standing at the corner of the room, writing on his clipboard and occasionally looking at my wild behaviour.
It feels like I have been released from a cage viz. this hospital room.
I have been staring at these white tiles and walls for two and a half days now. I am not a big fan of white things. I said to everyone who entered this room that I was good on the first day but no one agreed to discharge me. I didn't want to stay at this isolated shit hole. The wires were attached to my whole body as if my heart beat would slow down any second now and I would eventually die.
The nurses have placed my clothes on the table beside my bed for me to change out of this dingy hospital wear. Well the clothes that the nurses have brought for me aren't very good either. It is some bright yellow coloured shirt with dress pants. They are not at all my style. I am not gonna wear them.
I pick up my phone from the side table while the doctor is still in my room. What else does he want? Why isn't he going already?
I unlock my phone and search through my contacts for the only person's number I have since I arrived here. It is a risk but I don't wanna wear that yellow shit.
I tap on his name and write a text.
Me: get me a pair of clothes.
It is as if he was sitting on the phone, he replies instantly.
Louis: i don't remember when i started working for you?
Me: fuck off. just do what i said.
Louis: why?
For fuck sake. What the fuck is his problem?
Me: they have given me an ugly pair to wear back home.
Louis: in that case i would rather see you in those.
I am beyond infuriated now. I just want some fucking decent clothes for me. Why does he always have to be so annoying?
Me: LOUIS!
Louis: fine, i won't help you next time.
With that I sigh and place my phone back on the table where my wallet and all the weapons I had carried that day of the mission are laid flat on the surface. They have been cleaned and wiped off. My guns and knives are wiped from any remnants of blood on them. They are shining bright under these pale lights.
I pace the room, making my feet work from how frozen they felt before. I rub my forehead wincing when I accidentally touch a still unhealed scar.
I hear the door open and turn towards it. Mr. Levine enters with his stern face but with a calming posture.
"Harry, you look better," he comments as he sits on one of the hospital chairs. He folds his hands in front of him and looks at me. The way he is seated now, he is looking like a police officer ready to pounder a criminal with accusations.
"Yes sir," I say, my voice monotone. He nods and unfolds his arms. With his demeanor it feels like he is about to get angry and start beating the shit out of me. But he instead says-
"Go home today Harry. Get some rest." I guess my eyes widen at his words a little. "Report tomorrow in my office. We still have left with your report for the mission."
Well I will going back to my apartment either way. If he allows me or not. I work according to me, not someone else.
I give him a tight lipped smile, "yes sir." He nods. He stands up, turns around and walks out of the room without any other words.
I sigh and sit back down on my bed, rubbing my eyes. It isn't even one minute after Mr. Levine exited, the door opens again.
I look up and find Louis with a smirk on his face, holding a duffle bag.
"Hope these will work or else you have to wear those ugly ones." He smirks my way and walks towards me, handing me the bag.
"Hopefully." I open the bag and look that it has the right clothes for me.
"You still have to pay for them, okay? Buying clothes these days is very expensive," he comments. I roll my eyes at this.
I hum in response.
"I have to go. There is a lot of work today," he complains.
"Then why the fuck are you still here?" I raise my eyebrows at him.
"No, no Harry you don't treat the person who brought you clothes like this." He gives a smug look. I am this close to snapping his neck.
"Get out," I say and he hurries out of the room, shouting something at me, obviously.
I look around and find the goddamn doctor still in the room.
"What the fuck else do you want?" I growl at him, lowering my eyes.
He looks left then right and then back. Then finally looks at me.
"Oh, you are talking to me?" He says carefully. Is he dumb or what? Who else would I have been saying?
"Do you see anyone else in this room?" I raise my eyebrows and ask.
He frowns a little, "um- no."
Fuck, what the fuck is wrong with him. Why isn't he leaving the room already?
"What do you want? If nothing then get the fuck out." I yell.
He thinks for a while about saying something to me then opens his mouth to speak, "well you have a shoulder injury as you already know." I roll my eyes at his nuisance words that he has been saying for days. "You have to take care that you don't do much weight lifting work which might put pressure there. The bleeding has stopped but still any jerking movement might open the stitches, so be careful with what you're doing."
"The hell you're saying that I can't work out anymore," I say, infuriated, glaring at him. Dr. Wilson.
He stands there awkwardly and scratches his neck with the pen he is holding. He averts his eyes from mine and says, "For the time being you can't but after two weeks it will get fully healed. Then do whatever you want," he says with confidence.
My mind is wondering how I am going to workout or do any job without ripping off my stitches. It can be dangerous. It's not that I am afraid for my shoulder but because I have to stay in this hospital room again if something happens. I don't want that at all. I can't stay one more day staring at these tiles.
"Okay," I reply.
The doctor nods and gets out of the room. Finally.
I take out the clothes from the duffle bag. I strip down from the stupid pant the hospital staff gave me to wear throughout my stay here and wear the black skinny jeans with the grey shirt.
I walk towards the side table where all my belongings and weapons are kept and start filling them inside the duffle bag.
The knives, laser guns, my spy suit and all the small accessories get inside the bag. I put my wallet and phone in the back pocket of my jeans and go ahead packing the other things. I wear my metal rings in their respective places.
Then my hand lands on something which I wasn't expecting but deep down knew it was there.
The pearl ring Alena gave me.
She had given me three of these handcuff rings. I used two of them in the mission to catch that guy but one was left.
I lightly pick it up and examine it. It is perfect. It is shiny and fits my finger perfectly as I put it in my left hand middle finger. I stare at it for a while, examining it the same way I examined the night before the mission, trying to figure out how the hell did she even come up with this idea.
As I keep thinking about it, my mind gets filled with a feeling I can't quite decipher. I think it is guilt but it can't be. But deep down I know it is guilt.
The way I behaved with her when she gave these to me was a very dick move. The way she ran off. The way I didn't give a shit about her that day or yesterday when she gave me those banana muffins.
I blew her off again.
Atlast she couldn't take my bullshit anymore. Honestly no one can. That is why I don't have many 'friends' or near to friends.
Yesterday was the last time I saw her when she came to meet me. I am surprised how comfortable I was in her presence as we talked for a while. Then I told her something which I shouldn't have said. And she yelled at me and stormed off.
I totally deserved it considering the times I have verbally harassed her. I was expecting her to blow off sooner but she has a patience in herself for handling me for so long as she did.
Because of my condition, I did it to her for the third time. I can't forgive myself for that but I want to fix it. I don't know why but I want her to talk with me, stay near me. It is weird but I want all that.
I have never wanted something like this before.
It is killing me.
Fuck! What is happening to me?
I have to find some way to get her to talk to me.
I pack the last things on the table, put on my shoes and get out of the room.
Hopefully I don't have to come here ever again.
I walk down the hallways which smells of floor cleaners. At the end of the hallways there is a vending machine. I put two dollars in it and press the button for my energy drink. I take it and start drinking it as I walk down the hallways to get to the parking lot.
"Aah," I missed drinking an energy drink. After I finish it, I am already in the parking lot. I wipe my lips with the back of my hand, run a hand through my hair and throw the can in the nearby trash.
I walk towards my Audi, unlock it and get inside. I sit quietly for a minute, resting my head on the steering wheel. The pain of the shoulder and all the thinking is adding to my raging headache. I get up and start the engine and get out of the building.
I use my left hand to steer as my right hand still hurts a little on movement.
It is already night now. Maybe it is around eight at night. There is a lot of traffic. But somehow I weave through the cars and reach my building.
I drive through the driveway and get to the backside. I park my car and get out with the duffle bag slinging on my left shoulder. I lock my car and walk to the elevator. I press my floor number and reach there within seconds.
God, I missed being at my overly fancy apartment. It doesn't feel like a home but it is okay for the time being.
As I am about to open the door to my apartment, there is commotion behind me. I turn around.
The door of the apartment in front of mine is open and a girl stands there. She has dark skin and wears a tight blue dress with high heels.
I look at her face and find her staring at me with what can be called as horny eyes. Her eyes rack my body up and down, without even hiding the fact that she is doing it. She has a smirk on her face and walks towards me, locking her door.
"Hi, I guess you are my neighbour. I am Chloe Addison by the way. I am a model and it's a pleasure to meet you," she says seductively in a pure professional accent, winking at me at the end. She takes out her hand in front for me to shake it.
Well I wasn't asking for an introduction. If she hadn't opened her mouth and spoken, I would've turned around and got into my apartment.
She looks at me expectedly as if she wants me to say something.
"Harry," I say simply, shaking her hand. I don't need to give a whole biodata of mine to her. I don't even fucking know her or care to know.
She smiles too wide. "I was going to a party. It would be great if you would like to join me and my friends," she says, giggling.
I don't even have to think about an answer.
"No, I can't." My voice is like a command, one that of authority. Her eyes widens for a second at my sharp decline and then after a second turns back to normal.
Maybe I can use her one day for my work. She would be a good fuck. But as soon as this thought entered my mind, it feels unsettling.
"Um- okay. Well if you ever need me, I will be there." She winks again, turns around and walks towards the elevator, flipping her hair.
I turn towards my apartment, open it and get inside. I throw the duffle bag on the couch and go to the bedroom. I take a lengthy shower and make sure water doesn't touch the patch of gauge on my shoulder. It is difficult but I do it anyway, struggling a bit. Water falls over a few scratches making the region burn. But the overall shower is okay and feels very refreshing.
I wrap a towel around my waist and get out of the shower. I get changed into a pair of sweatpants and walk into the kitchen. I make something light to eat.
After eating, I check my phone for a minute before falling into a deep slumber in my comfortable bed.
***
I remove my sunglasses and tuck it in the hem of my shirt. I close my car door and walk towards the elevator. I press the button for Mr. Levine's office's floor and stand, waiting for it to open. The elevator stops after a few seconds and I get out. My strides are long and hurried. I want to get over this as soon as possible.
I walk through the hallways, watching people working in their rooms. Some are working out while others are watching footage on screens.
I finally reach the end of the hallway and in front of Mr. Levine's office.
The room before it is Louis' room. He sees me and smirks at me. I roll my eyes at him.
"Mr. Snarky is back," he comments from his sitting position, working on his laptop.
"Is Mr. Levine in his office?" I ask, twisting my rings.
"Yes. You can go in," he says smugly as if he is ordering me.
I turn towards the office and open the door. Mr. Levine is going through some paperwork as I enter the room. He looks up at me and gives me a tight lipped smile.
"Good to see you're all fine, Styles," he says, closing the brown file in front of him, leaning backwards on his seat.
I nod and sit on the cushioned chair in front of him. I wait for him to speak further, to ask me what all I know, to ask me what all he wants to know.
"I am proud of you that you completed the mission risking your life. That is a very good spirit," he says, placing his hands on the tabletop and leaning forward. He sounds no more than a college professor cheering students for the spirits week.
"That was important sir." My voice sincere.
"Yes, yes." He pauses then opens the brown file he was looking at before I entered. "So we have rescued mostly everyone. But unfortunately six innocent people were killed." My heart twitches at hearing this. I suddenly feel disappointed in myself. And it feels like it is never enough. "Angana and Niall already submitted their findings. If you have any we can move forward with it."
I nod and think for a while. Trying to memorise what else unusual I found there. Then my mind clicks.
"In the end I attacked a room with six people in it. Three were injured majorly." He nods as if he already knows this. "They were talking about million dollar substances and there were many sacks in that room. I think the sacks had-"
"Cocaine." Mr. Levine completes my sentence.
"Exactly." I rest my head on the headrest.
"You are correct Harry. You found the cocaine they were smuggling worth million dollars. We have confiscated all the contents from the ship after you three came back. There were three more rooms filled with cocaine." He smiles.
I cross my hands in front of me even though my right shoulder hurts a little.
"I also caught one of the guys who was running away in a motorboat," I inform. "I think he is a crucial person in their business."
"Ah, yes. He is locked up in one of our chambers. Our men will torture him soon and ask about their leader and other works," he informs me.
"I would like to get the answers out of him sir," I say, hoping I get the work to do. I wanted to torture him from the moment I saw him. He pissed me off. If he hadn't gone into the waters, I wouldn't have had to go and then my stab wouldn't have got infected leading me to go unconscious.
It has been a long time since I have done something related to torturing someone. And I love doing that and he is the perfect person to suffer.
Mr. Levine's eyes widens and he says, "You are not physically well to do that, Styles."
What the fuck? Physically well? I am completely well. I can beat the shit out of anyone even though I have some few wounds here and there. That never stopped me from doing my work. So it's not gonna stop me this time.
"Sir I would like to do that as I caught him. And I am completely capable of doing that."
"I have no doubt that you're not capable. You are our best but I think you need some time to rest." he orders.
I scoff and sit straight. I make threatening eye contact with him even though he is my boss and say, "sir let me," I say in finality.
He rubs his forehead and sighs. "Okay, but not now. After you're completely healed."
I smirk. Well no one says no to Harry Styles.
I rub my hands in front of me and then fidget with the rings.
"Well the mission was a big success. All the trafficked people are safely sent to their homes," he says with a proud grin etched on his face. "Is there anything else you need to inform?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to say something.
I have something to ask but I don't know if it's right. I have thought about it all night whether it is appropriate or not. But I guess I will find out once I say it.
I twist my rings so anxiously that it forms red lines around my finger. I take a deep breath and get ready to say the weirdest and most out of context confession.
"I would like to accompany Alena to her convention which is in a few days," I spit out and wait anxiously for his reply. Even if he rejects the idea, I am gonna find a way to go with her one way or another. "She said that I can go with her," I add further to make it believable.
Lying feels so good.
She didn't tell me any specifics, hell she isn't even talking with me right now. I just guess that she blurted it on accident yesterday during our argument. She looked very stressed saying about it. She would absolutely hate me to go with her after the way I treated her like shit.
Mr. Levine thinks for a while. As every second passes without him giving me permission to go, my heart rate picks up.
"I needed someone for her protection there. And if she wants you to go then it's fine. You would be the best person to do that job," he finally says, clasping his hands on the table and unclasping it.
I take a breath which I didn't know I was holding until now and relax back on the seat.
"Thank you sir." I give him a tight smile. But from inside my heart is beating loudly and my hands are getting sweaty instantly.
For the next five minutes he tells me all I needed to know about the ICG.
When his explanation is done, I get up from my seat and shake hands with Mr. Levine.
"Keep up, Styles. Your father would have been proud of you." He give me a sympathetic smile.
My body stiffens at my father's mention but all I did is give him a nod and get out of the room.
I shut my eyes for a second to gain my composure. I open them after a minute and start walking down the hallway towards the elevator.
I get into the elevator and press the button for the basement floor. I get out of the elevator and start walking. It's like a routine. Get out of the elevator and walk some hallway then go to some room then go back the elevator.
One part of the idea of mine is done. Now all I have to do is the next part which would be simple I guess.
Now all I have to do is convince Alena to take me with her.
It might be a difficult thing to do but I am capable of doing everything. Besides, she is easy to get manipulated by me without much of a fight.
As her name crashes through my mind, I find her standing in front of a wall at the end of the hallway, staring at a painting hanging up there. The painting isn't very great. It is of rifles shooting in the sky. Sort of aesthetic but I can make a better one, I assume.
Her hair is tucked together by a pencil and she is looking ecstatic. She is wearing a violet flannel shirt with black jeans. Her hands tightly clasped in front of her. The side view of her olive skin illuminated by the hallway dim lights. Her jaw tight as fuck as she stares at the painting as if she is seeing it for the first time.
I stand still for two minutes for her to make any movement but it feels like she is frozen, her doe eyes not even blinking. I think she is zoned out or something.
I start walking towards her direction. She hasn't seen me yet, which is for the best. I walk quietly and stand mere inches behind her.
I lick my lips and lean my mouth closer to her ear as she still looks at the painting, unaware of my presence. I whisper, "I will pick you up at 7 on Wednesday evening. Wear your hottest dress, love."
*******
is it hot in here?
the story has begun.
the next chapters are my favourite<3
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