Note: Alright, so I can assume this one's a filler, sorry about not being to update as fast as I was able to before, but I wanted to add as much detail to this as possible, so I really hope this was worth a month of waiting. Harry will seem like a man-whore and a murderer at first, but remember, we don't really know why he's doing this, so we can't really judge now, can we? ;)
-@-
Tap, tap, tap. Harry blinked just slightly, drowsiness instantly wiped away from his senses. Tap, tap, tap.
"What the hell was that noise?" He murmurs, looking around his flat, frowning, his brow furrowing disapprovingly and lazily swinging his legs to the end of his bed, hanging both his arm up in the air as he stretches his joints, quite enjoying the popping sounds it made as it re-positions itself back in place. Alright, he might've pulled just a tad harder than usual, but seeing as his blood had already gone through the process of regenerating itself back, he didn't really mind taking a little longer to walk straight into the bathroom.
Finding its main source, Harry heads towards his sink, turning the crank off and resisting the urge to use his full vampire strength in order to close the bloody tap that woke him up from his deep slumber--which by the way, he decided should really have one of its monthly maintenance while he's off to doing something more productive than sitting and sleeping at home and watching crap Telly.
Harry knows he had missed today's classes, afterall, it was Monday and his schedule on Organic Chemistry was held right at 8:00 till 12:00 in the afternoon. But, did he really bother to care? Definitely not.
In the middle of his train of thought, he found himself staring into his mid-length mirror bound by the walls of his bathroom. Reflected within it was himself, well not really per se, but his reflection of a 10 year old child, before he was converted. Those big green eyes that bore onto Harry's purple, amethyst one's that he chooses to utilize at a day-to-day basis, times when he had no need to be rid of it, such as encountering that troublesome, blue-eyed stray that's been taking up much of Harry's life lately. Like, he's sure he had better things to do than follow the lad and think of modernized things to say to make himself feel appealing, to draw Louis in like the others were, but what was the fun in that?
With an inward sigh, he willed himself to rip that illusion of his past self away and see his regular reflection, prominent cheek bones, slightly full lips, amethyst eyes, a lean, slightly bulky figure, yes, this was definitely him, and he couldn't see himself no other, even if he did sometimes wish that he could take everything back.
*
"Ah, yes, please. I really need to get this sink fixed, it's really been a bother and I really need to get it out of the way, you know?"
The voice on the other line chuckles instantly.
"Alright Mr. Styles, I'll take a look at it. What time do you suppose I'll be able to come in to your home? How about the address?"
Harry taps the wooden floor from where he sat, quietly pondering what time he'll be free to roam around.
"How about now?" Harry suggests, boredom already seeping in within his veins.
"But Mr. Styles--"
"I'll add a a generous tip if you'll do it now."
The voice hums from the other side of the line, but the way the man sounded seemed more pleased, more interested than the pathetic facade he was trying to up as Harry awaited for his obvious, definitely sleazy reply.
"I don't know Mr. Styles, I mean to cancel out on one job just to benefit another, don't you think it's a bit unfai--"
"I'll give you extra 15 pence or nothing at all. Come if you want, but I'm just saying you're not the only one I called to fix my sink." Harry states before hanging up, not bothering to even hear the man's reply, as he knew that if that sleaze-ball was desperate enough, he'll take the offer with no other problem than a lighter wallet to lug around his pocket.
*
Roughly around fifteen minutes later, some sort of rapping brushing against the door urgently.
"Mr. Styles! Mr. Styles, I'm here, please open the door." Sleazy man calls out.
Harry rolled his eyes, propping himself up from his cross-legged position on the wooden floor by the pale white walls and gave a quick scratch to the back of his neck as his bare feet padded through the walls with ease, hearing the man from the other side knock louder.
"Couldn't even bloody call me instead?" Harry hisses, opening the door as he quickly plasters on a friendly smile as his eyes drift to a brown-eyed man who looked around mid-thirties, a fresh grey beard covering the lower half of his face, his whole body covered in thick, scratchy-looking sweaters that hung around his whole lanky body, hands buried deep within his jacket-pocket as he allows himself inside Harry's flat without a seconds hesitance, pushing the curly-haired boy away just slightly.
'Rude, pathetic human.' He retorts just below the sound frequency a normal human can hear before following after the man who made himself at home, taking the time to look around the flat, a whistle escaping his chapped lips as he angles himself at each feature, raising an eyebrow.
"Wouldn't it be more comfortable if you bought more furniture than a simple blanket Mr. Styles?" He asks, turning so that he can face Harry with a smirk written on his lips.
Harry inwardly rolled his eyes with a small shrug, responding in a completely innocent tone.
"Never knew repairmen speculate a person's house and make themselves at home by letting themselves in without the consent of the flat owner." Harry retorts with a small, yet mocking smile.
The man looked sheepish, blood coating his cheeks. Surprisingly, the man didn't even look sorry, nor did he apologize as he gave a curt nod, as if it gave the answers to Harry's comment.
"So, uh. W-Where is the sink that y-you'd like to let me fix?" The man stutters out. "Oh, and my name is Billy, just in case you're wondering." Harry decides that he'll call him sleaze ball instead.
"Billy." Harry chides with a smile. "Typical for a repairman, inn'it?"
The man, Billy shrugs, finding his way to the bathroom before Harry could ever instruct him. 'Man, if he knew who he's disrespecting right now, I wonder how he'd react.' He thinks, again trailing after Billy who lugged around a rusty maroon red tool box by one hand, and a screwdriver on the other.
"Is this it?" The man asks, eyeing the sink in front of him.
Harry was beginning to get annoyed now. "If you'd just let me instruct you which place I wanted you to get fixed like you're supposed to be doing, it would've given you a clear hint that yes, that is the sink you are looking for." Before Harry could even move closer to inspect the man, Billy already had a hand gun by where his tool box was supposed to be held and pointed its tip right by where Harry stood.
Harry voluntarily froze from where he was standing, making sure his figure quivered just slightly as he held both his hands up at the smirking man.
"Now pretty boy, you got enough balls to retort things to me, don't you?" Billy snarks, moving closer so that the gun was held right at his temples. Harry breathed in his nose as he attempted a weak-willed whimper from the back of his throat, only to hear the man let out a chuckle murmuring something about expecting Harry to remain silent when he's got a bullet up his brain.
"So, guess what? I'm not going to kill you." The man states, eyes searching Harry up for any type of reaction. Harry makes none. Sleaze-ball huffs, continuing anyways. "But, see here, you're flat looks roughly around 50 thousand pounds, ain't it?" He doesn't even wait for Harry to respond, just kept on continuing. "So that means, you either got some kind of sugar daddy, or 'summat, or you're just a plain rich boy who uses his daddy's money to live in very posh flats, now which is it?"
"P-Please don't shoot." Was all Harry whimpers, allowing his voice to crack in almost all the words.
The man sighs, holding the gun down to his waist instead. "There, now tell me or I really will shoot you." Then, "Wouldn't want that now, would we?"
Harry took his time before Billy presses the tip of the gun right at his waist even more so, urging for him to continue. Harry inwardly sighs, debating whether he should take actions now, or later. He decides he'll do it later.
"I-I.. I don't have a s-sugar daddy, m-my grandad just allowed me to inherit his money before he d-died." Harry found it surprising that the lies could slide out as easy as breathing, the action coming in as a second nature to the curly-headed boy,
Billy nods approvingly.
"Alright, I will fix your sink, but instead of just 23 pounds per hour, the tip will become 100 pounds because I did such a bloody fantastic job, got it?"
Harry weakly nods, keeping still till Billy literally drags him by the wrist onto the bathroom as the man closes the door behind them, making sure to lock it, thinking that Harry will try to escape somehow. But in reality, he really wouldn't... But seeing as Billy's time is ticking, he might as well let the man have his last fun, right?
"Sit there." Sleazy replies curtly, indicating to the stool right by the walk-in shower.
Harry nods his head with a small frown as he sits onto the stool, lanky figure crouching down, legs all tangled because of his height.
He really should've gone for a walk or something, maybe do something humanly like visit a library or 'summat, maybe claim that he's late within the lecture, apologize profusely, maybe shed some tears in the corners of his eyes.
Today, he was supposed to have a female professor over 28 years of age, fresh out of a post doctoral degree. She is known to be claimed as a 'satan-reincarnate' by most men, but to Harry she was definitely an open book and he's sure, that she was checking out his bum the first day, and that can potentially one of the biggest mistake she could've ever done.
Harry knew he wasn't in the 'ugly' department, some even found him attractive. Some women clung to his every word, some swooned whenever his skin brushed accidentally against theirs and suddenly, they push their cell numbers written on messy scribbles, shoving their glossy red nails down the back of his jean pocket and indiscreetly dropping their pieces of paper right in front of Harry's face as he continues to down his drink with clear irritation in his eyes, only to be misread as 'bad-ass' attitude that some women craved and the whole cycle ensues.
Harry didn't particularly enjoy the attention per se, but if it got him whatever he wanted, he'd gladly do it in a heartbeat--Ha! Heart beat, get it?
Anyways Harry comes back to reality on his own with Billy-Fucktard still twisting and turning wrenches with his back to Harry, the pistol right down the floor by the man's fingertips, close enough that if Harry had attempted to even make a single move, the bullet will instantly be aimed at him, it was definitely a full-proof plan, to Billy at least.
The two drift in a long silence, with Harry tapping away at his phone, switching one candy from another with Candy Crush Saga. But Billy though wasn't aware of that, so the moment the beanie-clad man tilted his head just slightly to see what Harry was doing, he instantly took a grab at his gun, pointing the tip of the rifle to Harry's head in an instant, his nose flaring as he spoke.
"What the hell do you think you're doing boy?!" He screeches, prodding the tip to Harry's head, as Harry chosen the time to fully-indulge himself onto the game, not even noticing the gun pointed at his temples.
"Oi!! Put that bloody phone down you nitwit!" Billy urges again, jaws clenched into a tight lock.
Harry raises an eyebrow, pausing his game, fingers hovering the screen. "What? I'm just playing Candy Crush. Did you want to play too?" Billy practically growls, prodding at Harry again, but this time with more force.
"Put the bloody phone or this bullet goes through your head." Billy threatens, thumb releasing the lock from the gun and index finger right on the trigger.
"Uh, I don't think you should do that." Harry warns, a low snarl rumbling on the back of his throat.
"Oh yeah?" Billy raises an eyebrow. "And what exactly are you going to do? I could shoot you right now."
Harry closes his eyes, taking deep breaths. In-out, In-out.
"What? You sleepin' on me now boy? I should really pull the trigger on you right now, but seeing as--"
"No you won't." Harry interrupts. "You won't even do a bloody thing to me with that petty gun of yours."
Billy snorts. "I have it pointed to your head now, don't I? What makes you think I can't kill you right now?"
Harry hums. "Maybe it's the fact that there's no bullet in that thing."
A bit of sweat trickles down Billy's face as his hold tightens on the grip of the trigger, as his teeth ground together loud enough that even with human ears Harry could hear it and there was at least a meter and a half distance from the both of them.
"Alright." Billy huffs. "I'm really going to kill you now."
"Then do it."
"I will."
"So? Why aren't you shooting?"
"Don't fuckin' pressure me you arsehole, I'm going to press it."
"3"
"2"
"W-Wait, why are you counting down?"
"I'm counting down my demise." Harry replies sarcastically, taking in some air, eyes fluttering just slightly as his eyes transitions from jade to amethyst in the matter or seconds.
"Aaand 1."
The lights illuminating above them flickers to a complete close.
"W-What the hell?!" The man screeches, fumbling through the walls of the bathroom, hands stumbling upon object to object, sending them down the cream tiled floors. The pistol snapping in half the moment Harry had it held by his fingertips.
"Something wrong... Sleaze bal--Billy?" Harry snickers, accidentally-on-purpose snapping the man's leg, bones making a sickening popping sounds as the joints were pried away from its place.
"Aghhhh!!! Help!! Help!!!" Billy wheezes as his vision is fading in and out.
"Shut up Billy, you know people will hear." Harry whispers as he closes in by the man's right ear, making his sure evoke shivers to run down Billy's spine. It did.
"P-Please... Let me g-go!! I won't tell the police, you'll never see me again, I--"
"R-Really?" Harry stutters, innocence lacing his tone as he surrounds the boy mockingly.
"Yeah, I-I just need to--"
"Just kidding." Harry laughs. "I don't think the police can do much with me."
"But--"
"Shh, be quiet." Harry orders the man, holding his index finger to the man's quivering, chapped lips. "Someone's out the door and if they so much as hear a single whimper, you will never see the light of day. "
Harry slips out within the matter of seconds, not even stopping for the man's answer, because really, Billy's fate was already decided the moment he chose to act like that. Harry guesses that was only fair.
With a quick sigh, Harry fixes his maroon knitted sweater, checking if there was any prominent blotches of blood, but chuckled to himself, as nobody will really see a difference. He felt stupid for even thinking such ridiculous thoughts.
"Coming!" He rasps out, feet padding through the wooden flooring.
"Yes?" He asks, not even bothering on fixing up his hair and turning to a petit olive-skinned blondie that stood right in front of him. Her bangs was perfectly swooped to the right side and the ends were held by flawless golden ringlets, her cheek bones prominent. She looked delectable enough to eat.
"Uh, uh h-here you g-go." She squeaks, blush coating her cheeks as she handed Harry a sheet of paper with what he guesses was today's notes.
"But, the professor doesn--"
"I-I took it." Blonde girl confesses, eyes appearing bluer as she chews on her plump red lips. "I-If you don't m-mind, I had to lie to the receptionist, claiming that there was a family reason as to why you weren't attending class, it took some time, but she managed to surprise me by replying a 'yes.' A pair of dimples etched like craters on his cheeks.
Harry shakes his head with a small, thankful smile as he pretends to read, eyes darting from corner to corner as if he was reading word for word.
"Thank you, uh.."
"H-Hannah." She replies.
"Hannah." He chirps. "I'm really grateful for you to do something out of your own time.. Is there any way I can pay you back somehow?"
Hannah seemed to blush even deeper as her eyes drifted to the ground, unable to answer the boy's question.
Harry smirks, but wipes it away in an instant. "Then how about--" Billy's loud whimper echoes out the bathroom. "Heeeelp!!!!" The man screams, hands scratching at the wooden material of the door. Hannah seemed to have heard it as she looks over Harry's shoulder, her brows furrowing.
"I-Is something wrong in there?" She asks. "I hear whimpe--"
Harry leans over towards her ear, causing her feet to feel immediately like jelly. "Forget about that." He murmurs, chewing slightly at her earlobe, feeling her position shift just slightly as she's feeling hot and dizzy, questioning completely wiped away from her mind, mouth gaping as he smirks while holding her up.
"How's about we go for a cuppa?" Hannah nods eagerly, using Harry's arms as she settles herself steadily.
"Alright, just let me go shrug a coat on and we'll be ready to go." Harry proposes, eyes drifting towards the constant scratching towards the door. Hannah, as expected nods hastily.
"Please, t-take your time."
"Oh don't be silly, who am I to keep a pretty girl waiting?" Hannah giggles nervously, her small hands lacing with one another the moment Harry turns around to enter his flat.
*
The front door closes as Harry quickly snatches his brown leather coat at one hand, wrapping it around himself as he opens the door in a quick instant, hands quickly snatching the man's head, the tears rolling down his face as Harry chuckles, mumbling an 'I told you so' before he utilizes his vampire strength to crack the man's skull, instantly killing him in seconds with blood drenching both his coat and hands.
Just as he was departing, he slips on his hole-filled shoes, not even bothering to care how he appeared. Harry's sure this Hannah wouldn't even care that he'd just killed a man right before going on a date with her and she wouldn't care because the way she stood eagerly right in front of his door definitely indicated that she'd do just about anything for Harry, even if he asked of her to jump off a two-storey building just to have him lay his hands on hers. She might be of use to him later and he knows it.
"Sure. I'd love a cuppa, I-I forgot to reply earlier." She rasps as he literally whips open the door, its hinges squeaking in protest as he has once again added too much force. Harry analyzes how her eyes sparking just as she dazily follows after Harry the moment he started heading towards a cheap cafe he usually passes by day-by-day, subject all but forgotten and nothing but being close to Harry filling up her mind.
"Hey, didn't you say you were going to get a coat?" She asks, curiosity coating her tone.
Harry shrugs in response, allowing Hannah to loop her arms around his as he lead her, his pace just a bit faster than hers, so much so that she had to hop at every other step to catch up. Harry noticed this, but pretended he didn't, because she really didn't mean anything to him in the least, so he kept on going.
*
The two silently chatted, the homework all but set aside as a coaster for Harry's mug. Harry found out that Hannah was into journalism and such, but chose her major in acting because she liked to be in the spotlight. She giggled nervously at that fact as she sips onto her hot chocolate, watching Harry intently as he feigns a snort, teasing her that she seemed more like an innocent girl at first and wonders how she can act like covered in sweat.
"Then have your way with me." she replies bluntly, cheeks a bright red colour.
Harry nods his head, notes all but crumpled and thrown into the trash, because, who was he to turn down a pretty girl?