Movie 🎥 Salt (2010). Sooner or later Scarlett is gonna be as bad-ass as Angelina Jolie in this movie 👊🏼
Happy reading xx
~T
✖️✖️✖️
S C A R L E T T 💣
My eyes shot open and were immediately met with a pair of azure eyes, not hazel eyes like my father's. It was Jade.
"Scarlett honey are you okay?" she asked me gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. My heart was pounding against my chest, I was covered in sweat and all my movements were sharp and twitchy.
"W-Where is he?" I found myself asking, my eyes darting around to all corners of the room I was in, which I think it was a hospital room. There were a lot of people here, Louis, Dexter, Vlad, Blaze, Jade and Harry.
"Who? Where is who?" she asked me, furrowing her brows slightly. I moved away from her, tears sliding down my cheeks as flashes of my nightmare rushed in front of my eyes.
"C-C-" I stuttered, not being able to say the name properly because of how much I feared it.
"Who is it? Speak clearly," Vlad snapped in annoyance, walking up to the side of my bed. I wanted to say Chuckles the clown but I knew they wouldn't take me seriously.
"Andrei," I gulped, as I tried to control my breathing and heart rate. I was literally on the verge of having a panic attack. I was just waiting for that clown to pop out any second now. I waited for a response from everyone but it never came, they all just stared at me blankly.
"Who's that?" Dexter was the first one to speak.
"The man who killed my father," I whispered, causing everyone to raise everyone's heads in surprise. I was too busy crying to notice their expression but I think I caught a glimpse of recognition in some of their expressions. They knew who Andrei was, but at this moment I couldn't find myself to care about it. "My father," I murmured again, remembering him getting beat up in my dream. "Dad," I choked out a sob before I started weeping heavily as I pulled my legs to my chest and buried my face into them. Everything hurt. The pain of losing my father was unbearable, and the fact that I was having nightmares about it was worse. When will all this pain go away? Will I ever be happy again? I've only been here for two days and I already hate it here. Everyone just bullies me and constantly reminds me that I'll never be like my father, and that obvious reminder of my father makes me feel even worse because it reminds me that he is no longer living.
I cried until I ran out of tears and my chest was heaving violently. My face was probably a mess right now, but I didn't care. I noticed that everyone had left the room, except for Harry who was observing me quietly like it's the most curious thing to see me cry. He slowly walked towards my bed and sat on it, the bed dipping as he did so. I lifted my head slightly so only my eyes were peering at him as he watched me.
"What happened in your nightmare?" he asked quietly, his voice and expression showing no emotion whatsoever. Typical.
"Why would you want to know?" I asked, sniffling as I rubbed my cheeks harshly as I adjusted myself; folding my legs in a seating position. I winced a bit as I did that; before it dawned upon me that I had bruises on my face from the fight.
"Just curious," he shrugged. "What did you see?" he pressed on. I sighed in defeat. My counselors always told me it's better if I talk to someone about my nightmares, I didn't really see the point in it but I did it anyways. It didn't really help; it only made people judge me based on that.
"It was a pretty weird and horrifying dream. I saw my Dad and...he was getting beat up right in front of me," I muttered, breaking my gaze with him. He sat closer to me; the tips of my toes were touching his thighs as he gazed at me intently. A few tears escaped my eyes as I thought about my father again.
"Continue," he said.
"And I saw a clown," I breathed. I looked up at him with a frown on my face when I heard him chuckling.
"You saw a fucking clown?" he arched an eyebrow, biting his lip to conceal his laughter. "That's why you were screaming so much? You saw a clown?" he chuckled again.
"I have a phobia," I grumbled, as he continued to laugh even more. "The guy stabbed me!" I scowled at him, nevertheless breaking out into a small smile. His laughter was contagious, even though it was out of cruel amusement.
"I always thought coulrophobia was the stupidest phobia," he said. "Why are people even scared of clowns?"
"Because why not? They're the creepiest little shits ever," I shuddered, reminiscing my nightmare with Chuckles the clown.
"A nightmare about a clown," he chuckled, shaking his head. "How pathetic," he said before he stood up and walked out of the room. I felt myself tear up again at his words. At times like this, the only person who would always be there to comfort me was Spencer. God I wish he were here with me. I glanced at the clock on my bedside table, which read 9:00 AM. I was out for the whole night? I spotted a bathroom in the corner of the room; I rushed over to it before stepping in and shutting the door. My bladder was bursting for some reason, since I don't recall drinking that much water. I have a tough bladder okay.
After doing my business, I stood in front of the mirror and rinsed my hands as I gazed at my reflection. Ugly purple blotches were dotted around my face, mostly around my jaws. My olive skin was a lighter shade than usual, and there were dark bags under my eyes. I looked horrible. But I didn't care. I glanced at what I was wearing for a few seconds, noticing that I was still wearing what I wore yesterday. I smelt dreadful, a combination of sweat and blood.
As I stepped out of the bathroom Damien walked into the room, with a tray full of breakfast foods. I quickly walked over to my bed and flopped down, immediately wincing at the pain I felt when I did so.
"Careful," he chuckled setting the tray down on my bed carefully. As soon as I got under the covers once more he moved the tray so it was resting on my lap.
"Thank you," I couldn't help but frown at his kind gesture. I noticed he was still standing, so I patted on the space next to me on the side of the bed for him to sit down. He hesitated for a second before he sat down on the edge, keeping his chocolate eyes on me.
"You're welcome," he spoke. "Sullivan said one of the reasons you passed out was because of the lack of food and water in your body," he told me, as I nodded.
"Sullivan?" I asked, furrowing my brows. "Who's that?"
"He's the head doctor of the hospital wing," he informed me as I nodded once more, picking up the bowl of fruit sitting on tray. I popped a grape into my mouth as we sat in silence, a strangely comfortable silence. "You know, you don't really look like your Dad," he spoke up all of sudden. I swallowed thickly at the mention of my father and just threw another grape into my mouth.
"Yeah," I muttered in agreement. "My father told me I looked like a duplicate of my mother," I said, raising my gaze to meet his.
"I'm really sorry for you loss," he spoke in a genuine tone, gazing at me with concerned eyes. "How're you holding up?" he asked.
"Not so good," I answered truthfully. "I just wish I had time to mourn over his death, but all this assassin shit and 'following your father's footsteps' was just thrown at me and it's all just really stressful," I felt myself ramble on to Damien. He just sat there quietly, listening attentively while nodding a couple of times.
"Sorry about that. You really don't seem to be taking anything well," he said while I let out a low chuckle. He made it sound like it was his fault for all this assassin shit.
"Don't be Damien it's not your fault," I gave him a tight-lipped smile before I bit into a strawberry. "How long have you been here for?" I asked in curiosity.
"Long enough," he chuckled deeply, now standing up. That's a vague answer.
"Could you be more specific," I said.
"Scarlett, I don't want to sound rude but I just don't share information like that with anybody," he said, pursing his lips before he left the room. These assassins really have trust issues.
I finished off my bowl of fruit before I started to eat the ham sandwich that was next to it. After I had finished my food, feeling quite full, I slowly got up from the bed and headed towards the door. Was I supposed to wait here or something? Before I could reach the door, it swung open revealing a tall man with a white coat on.
"You seem to be feeling better now," he chuckled before he gestured for me to sit back down on the bed. "My name's Sullivan by the way," he said as he stood in front of me, smiling kindly at me.
"Scarlett," I grinned back, as he examined me quietly.
"Alright Scarlett, you're looking fine. Your bruises will disappear in a couple of days and do you feel any pain in the areas where you've been injured?" he asked. I shook my head in a silent no and he proceeded. "Okay no pain that's good. You're doing well physically; all I advise you to do is eat more. I know Vlad's ways to trying to toughen you up, but whenever you do get to eat, eat energy foods to keep you up throughout the day.
"Okay," I said, absorbing all the information. He nodded with a soft smile before he sat down next to me and peered attentively at me. Since he was up close now, I was able to notice his defined features, azure eyes and nut-brown locks.
"How are you feeling mentally? Emotionally?" he asked me quietly, staring at me while he waited for an answer. My lower lip was tugged into my mouth, a sign of nervousness, as I contemplated over what I was going to reply.
"I feel distressed and anxious," I answered shortly. I assumed he knew about my father's death as well, everybody did. "All my emotions are bottled up and I haven't had time to grieve for my father," I said as Sullivan started nodding.
"I don't think keeping your emotions bottled up is a good idea because everything your experiencing now is just going to cause more stress, which will add up to all those negative emotions you've already got. It's not good. Vlad's trying to turn you into an assassin, you really need to keep your mind clear and focus on that rather than anything else," he said.
"What do you supposed I do about it?" I questioned.
"You should talk to somebody about it. I feel that will be the easiest way because as of now you don't have time to mourn for your father properly," he explained.
"But who do I talk to? I hardly know anybody here!" I exclaimed.
"Talk to people who were close to Russell, they'd at least have some idea of what you're going through," he told me.
"Who here is close to Russell? Nobody trusts anybody here." Sullivan frowned for a minute, pondering over who could have been close enough to my father.
"The only person I can think about is Harry Styles, know him?" he asked me as my heart dropped. The last person I want to talk to is Harry. I just nodded in response, gesturing for him to continue, and he did. "Russell trained Harry from quite a young age. Harry looked up to Russell; he was like a father figure to Harry. If anyone's going through what you're going through; it's Harry, no matter how emotionless he seems." How the hell am I supposed to talk to Harry when he told me to stay away from him? I don't even want to talk to Harry but I felt like I have to, I always found it easier to deal with problems when I talk to people about them. The only person I do actually talk to them about is Spencer. Oh how I wish he were here.
"I-I don't know. Harry doesn't really...like me," I stuttered, while Sullivan chuckled lightly.
"Harry doesn't like anyone Scarlett, except for your Dad. I highly recommend you talk to him; he's got it hard too. It'd be good for both of you," he said while I just stared back still contemplating my decision. "Look, I'll talk to him about it if you want. I'll drop hints on who he should talk to about it and all," he offered me while I finally sighed and nodded. I needed to do this for me; I needed to get all of his grief out of me. I didn't like keeping it all bottled up inside of me, it's making me lose focus on what's important here. My training.
"Fine," I said, Sullivan smiled happily at my answer.
"Great! Okay moving on, you're allowed to take the rest of the day off from training. I already sorted that out with Vlad and Blaze. I advise you to rest or to do something calming. Normally if you were just another random trainee, I'd send you off to training immediately right after you've woken up but since you're Russell's daughter I decided to be a bit more generous," he smiled while I thanked him graciously. I didn't really like the fact that people were taking it easy on me just because I was the daughter of a superior assassin. Yeah it certainly had its perks but I still didn't like it, I'm up for equality rather than inequality.
"Yeah okay, thank you Sullivan for everything," I shot him an appreciative grin before standing up. He's a really kind man, unlike every other man here, except for Louis, Dexter and I guess Damien.
"Always happy to help, now get out of here," he shooed me out, I forced out a laugh as I picked quickly slipped on my roshes before leaving the hospital room. I quickly made my way out of the hospital wing, deciding to just head back to the apartments so I could take a shower. Everywhere I went people gave me strange looks; it was probably because of what happened last night. I just kept my head down and kept on walking down different hallways, reminiscing the way back to the elevators.
I successfully managed to find them, pushing the button and waiting patiently for the doors to open, my leg bouncing up and down in a nervous manner. I felt sort of jittery, really energetic, like I was high on something. I was brought out of my thoughts when the door flew open, revealing the empty elevator box. I quickly stepped inside and punched the first floor button before hitting the 'close doors' button. Just as the doors started to close, a figure quickly stepped in. It took me a couple of seconds to recognize the figure as Harry. Fabulous.
I only caught a glimpse of his curly hair before I averted my gaze to the ground, moving away to corner of the elevator as the doors slide close. A dull metallic smell filled my nostrils and for a second there I thought it was me that smelt of blood. Yes I did have some dried blood on my sweatshirt from my fight yesterday night, but I had a feeling it wasn't entirely coming from me.
My eyes snuck a glance at Harry before just permanently staying on him when I noticed his whole face was bruised and battered with fresh blood covering it. I fought the gasp that tried to escape my lips when he snapped his head in my direction, narrowing his eyes at me, making him look even more intimidating with all the crimson liquid on his face.
"What happened to your face?" I couldn't help but ask, peering at him worriedly.
"And you care because?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at me. I frowned at him before answering.
"Just curious," I smirked, remembering that was the exact answer he gave me when I asked him why he wanted to know what happened in my nightmare, earlier this morning. He rolled his green orbs before huffing. Although, I did actually care, it was in my nature to care about everyone; even the worst people.
"Boxing," was all he said before the doors flew open and he stepped outside. My feet instantly carried me out of the elevator, following Harry out of the building and into the building full of apartments. We both stepped into the elevator there once more, keeping our distance and staying in a...comfortable silence. The doors soon flew open with a 'ding' and we stepped out, keeping a short amount of space between us as we walked down the hallway towards our apartments. Without glancing at me, Harry immediately got his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door before stepping into his apartment and shutting it with a loud bang. This guy seriously needs to take a chill pill.
I checked under the doormat to see if there were a spare key, remembering Blaze telling me about the extra key she'd always keep under the doormat. I smiled in victory when I found it, immediately getting back up to my feet and unlocking the door. After entering the apartment and locking the door, I made my way towards the bedroom.
Deciding to take a quick shower, I picked out a black long-sleeved baseball t-shirt along with a pair of light denim shorts, with my undergarments. I really did seem to pick out a good amount of clothes that were appropriate for my stay here, there were a couple of grey, white, black tops with a pair of black ripped jeans, cotton shorts and spandex tights for sports. The only other things I had with me were my Nike roshes, my photo album, my journal, half of 5 grand and my pills and other necessities.
I spent the next five minutes showering, washing my hair as well as scrubbing my body clean. Just as I was pulling on my panties, I thought I heard a loud banging noise. I rushed to pull on the rest of my clothes as the banging noise got louder and never ceased. Someone must've been knocking on the door.
"I'm coming!" I yelled in an annoying tone, even then the banging never stopped. "Why do you have to bang on the f-" I started to say as I opened the door but I was cut short when my eyes landed on a shirtless Harry standing in my doorway. "What do you want?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest, frowning at him. I took a moment to study him quietly, the blood was now gone from his face but his eyebrow was still cut with fresh blood oozing from it, and so were his knuckles. Other than that his entire face had a few bruises dotted around his prominent jawline.
"If you're done checking me out would you let me in?" he smirked.
"Who said I was going to let you in?" I scowled, grabbing ahold of the door handle so I could slam it shut after I heard his response.
"Me. I need to borrow Blaze's first aid kit," he huffed. I stood there; looking hesitant about letting him in, his knuckles really did need some ointment and bandages so they could heal properly. I sighed and I stepped to the side, letting him in. He only smirked at me in surprise before strolling in, heading straight for the kitchen.
Making my way towards the kitchen, I leaned against the doorframe, watching him locate the first aid kit. Once he had found it, he stood up from his crouching position and walked towards the door where I was, glancing at me for a second. Just as his shoulder brushed mine, my fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist, tugging gently. He immediately snapped his head to face me, his jade orbs narrowing slightly as he gazed at me in confusion.
"Let me help you," I spoke in a quiet timid voice, holding his intense gaze as I did so. I didn't exactly know why I wanted to help him, but I guess I kind of felt bad for being a bit harsh earlier, ever though he truly deserved it. He took a minute to make his decision, frowning quietly as he gazed at me in slight doubt. Then he nodded, stepping back, handing me the first aid kit. I grasped it nervously as he made his way over to the sink.
"Clean my knuckles first," he said, gesturing for me to come over to where he was standing. I quickly made my way over to the sink, setting the first aid kit on the kitchen table before that. I turned on the water of the sink, letting it warm up enough before I gently took his hands and placed them under the stream. My fingers worked to carefully remove the blood from his knuckles. I watched the red drip from his tanned skin and disappear down the drain. All while doing this I felt his heavy gaze on me, it made me feel slightly uncomfortable but I tried my best to ignore it when I repeated the action over and over again, making sure not to hurt him until I had his skin cleaned.
Once I was satisfied with the way his hands looked, I turned the tap off and grabbed a clean rag that was lying near the first aid kit on the kitchen table. After carefully drying them off, we moved away from the sink, Harry sat on top of the kitchen table, now gazing at me on an eye-to-eye level while I held his hands in mine. I moved to stand in between his legs picking up his large hands in my small ones. My eyes travelled down to his knuckles, studying the cuts closely so I could decide how to clean them. They weren't that big but I felt they needed to be disinfected first.
"You should disin-" he began to say before I interrupted him.
"I know," I said, my eyes flitting up to meet his gaze. "Sorry," I added, apologizing for rudely interrupting him. He just shrugged and signaled for me to continue what I was doing. I rummaged through the small bag for distilled water to clean the wounds, but instead I found a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, which is another liquid used for disinfecting wounds.
"Use that to disinfect it," he spoke, making me glance at him for a second before my eyes darted back to the bottle in my hand. I studied the label quietly, furrowing my brows as I did so.
"No, actually hydrogen peroxide damages the new tissue forming in the wound. Wouldn't be a great idea," I said as Harry stared at me with his eyes slightly wide, like he was impressed or something. "I think I saw some Neosporin," I murmured, putting the bottle down before pulling out a small yellow tube I found in the bag.
"What the fuck is that?" he asked as I cringed at his vulgar language.
"Do you have to swear all the time?"
"Force of habit. What is that?" he asked one more time as I started to apply the cream onto his wounds.
"A triple antibiotic ointment. Used on minor cuts to prevent infection and encourage healing," I informed him as I neatly and carefully rubbed it onto his cuts.
"Did you read that off the label?" he snickered.
"No. I just know," I said, setting his left hand down and picking up his right hand. Anything that involves chemicals, I could figure out in an instant how the chemicals would affect the substance and what kind of a reaction it would make and all that.
"And how do you know? How do you know how to clean knuckles anyways!?" he frowned at me, his pink lips pouting slightly. If it weren't for the lip ring and eyebrow piercing, I'd actually think he looked adorable.
"My best friend got into a lot of fights and I'd always be there for him, cleaning up his wounds and all that," I muttered, my heart hurting at the thought of Spencer. "And my Dad taught me once a while ago," I also added, shuffling under the intensity of Harry's stare on me.
"Your Dad taught me how to do this too," he spoke and I immediately lifted my head up to meet his gaze. He actually had a pained expression on his face when he mentioned my father; it was similar to what was covering my face.
"Were you close to him?" I asked quietly, dropping my gaze to his right hand. I silently examined the tattoo that decorated the skin of the back of that hand. It was two snakes forming two circles with their bodies, their slim bodies twisted around in the middle connecting the two together. I didn't even realize but I was slowly tracing the dark ink with my finger as I waited for Harry's response.
I slowly lifted my head up, my breath hitching in my throat when my brown eyes locked themselves with his forest green ones. His gaze never wavered from my face as he watched me closely and curiously. My teeth unconsciously tugged my lower lip, my gaze lowering to his startling pink lips before flickering back up to his mesmerizing eyes.
Before I know it, I was leaning in, closing the space between our lips. My heart hammered against my ribcage as my lips were just inches away from touching his ripe plump ones. He was still staring at me, his gaze never faltering as I jerked my vision back up to his eyes. He didn't look hesitant or uncomfortable by what I was trying to do. It was almost like he was waiting for me to make a move on him. And I did.
My lips brushed his soft ones slightly, a jolt of electricity shot through my body at the feeling of this. My hands were now sitting on his thighs, gripping the material of his basketball shorts as his hot breath fanned over my face when I pulled back.
Too afraid to gaze at his eyes again, incase he was just going to push me away from coming onto him, I pressed my lips against his soft plump ones.
✖️✖️✖️
Soz for the cliffhanger. Again 😅
Oh and sorry for the whole clown scare in the last chapter 😂 I can assure you Chuckle is not real and you don't have to worry about him because all you have to do is imagine Harry's strong arms around you; protecting you 😊
Until we meet again...
~T