Harry
My thoughts are a jumbled mess as it takes me good five seconds to process what I did. A small part of me is screaming I'm an idiot while the other, larger one, is encouraging me to continue with my actions. The same person who has disobeyed me countless of times in the past week and a half, the person I'm supposed to loathe and keep away from me is now pressed against my body, my lips savouring hers.
Yeah nothing wrong about that, nope.
I let out a small groan into her mouth when her fingers tangle themselves into my hair, one of my palms pressing between her shoulder blades while the other one slides to her hip, gripping the flesh in response. It's been so long since I've kissed anyone, let alone felt my heart race this fast because of someone, my lust evident with each move of my lips against hers. It's infuriating how she is unable to follow my orders yet her attitude draws me in.
I'm dumb as hell, I should just--
She surprises me when she slips her tongue inside my mouth, skillfully brushing it against mine, my mind going into a haze, my previous thoughts forgotten. The hand resting on the curve of her hip pulls her closer, clashing her hips with mine. I curse myself internally, feeling the blood rush to my lower region. That's when the alarm appears in my head, my mind processing what is really happening.
Fuck, abort mission. Abort mission!
As suddenly as I kissed her, I pull away, allowing myself to take a deep breath. My eyes take in her flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and ragged breathing. A smirk is threatening to curl my lips at the sight, my ego seemingly growing knowing that's the result of a simple kiss from me.
"Damn it, doe eyes, look what you've made me do," I breathe, my palm pressing to my forehead, rubbing the skin.
She blinks a few times, looking as if she's processing what has just happened, looking everywhere but at me. It's amusing to see Elena all confused and fidgety, not knowing how to react. I guess this could be considered as my revenge.
"I left you speechless, huh? Unbelievable," I say. "You're free to go. I'm letting you off with a warning this time." Just pretend nothing happened.
Elena stares at me for good three seconds before narrowing her eyes. She seems angry, possibly hurt? "Yes, sir," she says, every trace of her confusion gone. "What about everyone else?"
"Don't worry about them, they won't get punished, either." She nods and mutters a "thank you", beginning to walk away when I call her name. "How old are you?"
My random question seems to throw her off, her head turning to my direction. "I'm twenty."
"I'm twenty-one," I say, replying to one of her previous statements when she assumed my age. "You may go now."
When she leaves the room, I let out a long breath, swiping my palm over my face. What was that? The only explanation I have for my previous actions is that she reminded me of myself so much, I felt an instant attraction to her and acted upon it. I'm certain it won't happen again, I'll make sure of it. She's still from Vortex, that's all she ever will be to me; someone I'm supposed to hate.
. . . .
"Mate, we're gonna get caught," he told me, clicking his tongue . "Again."
"I don't care," I replied, continuing to pack the bullets in a duffle bag. "You should help instead of slacking." I grabbed another bag, throwing it at him, my mouth spreading in a wide grin when he dropped it.
"I believe you've broken fifteen rules by now, and it's been only. . ." he glanced down at his wrist watch, "six minutes, Harry. Unbelievable, you've literally finished your punishment just now and the first thing you do is this?"
I shook my head, chuckling. "Forget the rules, brother, and come help me."
My eyes shoot open, my heart pounding against my ribcage. I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, burying my face into my palms. I haven't had a dream about him in over three months, why now? I feel the familiar pang in my chest, sadness slowly spreading through my chest, placing a heavy weight on it.
My eyes dart to the clock on the nightstand, reading five am. A deep sigh escapes my lips as I push myself up, slowly making my way to the bathroom. As I pass by the room I haven't opened in months, a shiver runs down my spine, causing me to quicken my pace. My hand twists the handle of the bathroom door, my feet carrying me inside, my knees giving out. I lift the lid from the toilet seat, feeling the bile rising in my throat.
I've learnt it's a terrible thing, the guilt. Just when you think it's diminished, even for a bit, it comes back in full force, almost suffocating you.
"Stop it," I whisper to myself, refusing to give in to my weakness. "Pathetic. Get up." Anger soars through me as I prop my elbows against the toilet seat, managing to stand to my feet again. I quickly turn on the faucet to my right, letting the cold water run, cupping my palms underneath the stream. I splash the water over my face a few times, trying to pull myself from that familiar vulnerable state I've started to drift in.
My hands tightly grip the edges of the sink, my head hung low while water droplets slide over my face, slowly dropping down. My eyes are screwed shut, my mouth silently chanting words of encouragement for myself.
When I'm done preparing myself for yet another day, I grab my black bandana, using it to push back the curls constantly spilling over my forehead. I make my way out of my flat, locking the door behind me, slipping the key into my pocket. I strut down the hallway, stopping in front of one particular flat, my lips curving in a devious smirk.
My palm pounds against the door a few times while I whistle a tune to myself. I don't have to wait for too long before I hear Niall shout, "fuck off, H!" and a thud, meaning he probably threw something at the door.
Despite my efforts to push the dream away, it keeps flashing before my eyes, making me more irritable than I usually am in the mornings. In order to avoid snapping at someone, I decide the best way to get rid of the negative energy is to train, to scrape the wounds on my knuckles again, and feel the burn in my muscles.
And that's exactly what I do. The moment I step inside my training room, my fingers lift the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head and tossing it carelessly on the floor, my rings following. My feet hastily carry me toward the punching bag, my bandaged hand curling itself into a fist before delivering a strong punch to it, causing it to swing from the impact. My lips pull in a smile at the small pang of satisfaction I felt as I continue my assault, each punch making me feel better.
As it always happens when I begin with my training, I completely lose the track of time, forgetting about hunger, thirst, about the world. I don't know how long it's been until I hear Niall's loud voice from the hallway, followed by the sound of the door opening and eventually footsteps, indicating he's approaching me.
"Styles," he says, throwing a towel and my shirt at me. "I have a feeling if it weren't for me, you'd never feed. Come on, it's breakfast time."
"You're like a walking alarm clock," I say, breathing heavily, still recovering from my session. I turn to face him, picking up the shirt and throwing it over my shoulder while using the towel to collect the sweat trickling down the sides of my face and my torso.
"So are you, bastard, waking me up in the middle of the night," he grumbles, his eyebrows furrowing above his light blue eyes.
"It was five am, Niall."
"Exactly."
I roll my eyes, flicking my wrist at him, silently telling him to leave while sliding my silver rings on my fingers. After finishing the whole water bottle in one take and grabbing a clean towel from the shelf, I make my way toward the showers installed down the hallway. When I enter the shower room, I discover it's almost empty, with only one person in one of the stalls. I don't enjoy when it's crowded, so this is perfect.
I carefully remove the bandages from my hands, noticing some of the wounds have reopened, but I don't pay much attention to it. When I step inside one of the stalls, I strip my clothes off, hanging it over the curtain hanger, turning around to let the water run. I enjoy cold showers, so I make sure the temperature is somewhere between mild and freezing before stepping under the stream, feeling the water soaking my hair and sliding down my body.
After a couple of minutes, I grab the towel to wipe myself off, quickly putting my clothes on. I push away the curtain, stepping out of the stall, feeling slightly awkward seeing Alex standing in front of the mirrors, fixing his dark hair. I don't really have any relation with him since I get the feeling he's intimidated by me, unlike his sister, annoyingly enough.
I sneak up on him and pat him on the back. He curses and jumps up, pressing his palm to his chest, turning to face me. "Who the fuck-- oh, H-- shit, hi."
"Are you ready for tonight?" I ask him, amused grin on my face.
"Wha-- oh, the guarding duty. Yes, I'm pumped," he laughs nervously. "No need to worry, by the way, I've learnt all the basics."
"Breathe, kid, no need to be afraid of me."
"Me? Afraid of you? Pfft, what-- what gave you that idea?" He waves his hand casually. "I'm just not particularly fond of your stare."
"My stare?" I laugh lightly. "My eyes seduce, not kill," I joke, patting him on the back once again before leaving the shower room, my fingers running through my damp hair.
When I reach the mess hall, I immediately spot my group of friends sitting at the usual table, chatting among themselves. I grab some fruit for breakfast from the counter and head over there to join them.
"Aye, there he is," Liam says, raising his hand and we high five each other.
I sit next to him and opposite of Elena, feeling her eyes on me. When I shift my gaze at her, she instantly looks away, pretending she's interested in a conversation between Louis and Tori. A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I start peeling off a banana, bringing it to my mouth and taking a bite.
I extend my foot and gently kick her in the shin to gain her attention again, causing her to jump up in surprise slightly. She gets stares from everyone around us and I feign innocence, shrugging lightly. "When you're done with breakfast, you're coming with me."
"Why?" She asks, looking down at her plate, poking the scrambled eggs on her plate with a fork.
"Because I said so," I mutter, a slight frown taking over my features. Why does she always has to question my orders? "Also, you'll get your new assignment today," I add.
She doesn't say anything and simply nods, continuing to eat her meal. As much as I don't want to think about it, the kiss incident which happened yesterday pops into my mind. I'm still angry at myself for kissing her and I'm angry at her for responding to it. If she's anything like I imagine her to be, she'll forget about it and not bring it up. It was simply a momentary attraction, that's it.
When I make sure both of us are done with breakfast, I head toward the exit silently, knowing Elena's going to follow me. Sure, enough, I hear her call my name, the sound of her light footsteps following. As expected, she walks beside me instead of behind me, which wouldn't bother me that much if it weren't for the soldiers all around us, giving us glances. There's a reason everyone has respect for me and fears me, yet this girl is ruining it.
"Relax, alpha male," Elena says. "Just because I'm not following you doesn't take away your masculinity or diminish your authority."
"I'm not worried about that," I lie.
"You're also not a good liar, Charming."
My eyebrow raises as I give her a look, deciding not to make any comments on that. She really does have a response to everything. "I've been watching you train for the past two weeks and I believe your skills could be put to good use."
"Did you just involuntarily give me a compliment? I'm shook," she smiles.
"I was merely stating the facts," I reply flatly. I'm leading her toward the building hidden between the army buildings and warehouses, the one I'm set to protect the most. When we reach its entrance, I nod toward the soldiers guarding it, signalling them to let us through.
The walls surrounding us are painted in light colours, decorated with photographs and cheerful drawings, giving off a relaxing aura. A few young trainees walk past us, smiling and greeting us, and we mirror their reactions. After a few turns here and there, we reach a training room, specially designed for beginners, such as children.
Before I can react, I feel a pair of small arms around my waist, my eyes drifting to a familiar eleven-year-old girl. "Hey, little dove," I greet her, my lips instantly pulling in a wide grin. I crouch down so I level with her height. "What are you doing here, Alice?"
She smiles widely. "Training to be a soldier."
"Is that so?" I comment, letting out a chuckle. "I want you to meet someone." I stand up again, glancing to my right where Elena is standing, realising she's not beside me anymore.
My eyebrows furrow in confusion until I notice her a few metres away, talking with Tommy who seems to be ecstatic because of it. A small laugh escapes my lips, my head shaking. My hand grabs Alice's small one and I walk toward them, clearing my throat and making my presence known. "What's so interesting, Thomas?"
"Elena promised to show me her knife tricks," the twelve-year-old boy replies, his eyes glimmering with excitement. "Isn't that cool?"
I glance at her to see a mild smile on her face while she gives me a light shrug. "She's going to be a trainer here for a week," I announce, watching as Tommy smiles even wider. "But, for the older trainees," I clarify, his smile faltering. "You know the age limit is fourteen, kid."
"She's very pretty," Alice tells me quietly, looking up at me.
"She is," I say, glancing at Elena. Seeing her shy smile, I take it she heard us.
"You two go back to your room now," I tell them, both of them pouting. "Oh, no no. That face stopped working a while ago."
"Promise you'll come visit us later," Tommy bargains, crossing his arms. "And bring her with you." He motions to Elena, smiling again.
"I don't know about him, but I promise I'll come," she replies instead of me. "I might even show you a few knife tricks." When I give her a look, she adds, "with plastic knives, of course."
The kids smile enthusiastically before running away, leaving the two of us alone. "You're okay with that, right? With training these kids." I motion to the room filled with teenagers.
"I think I'll manage." She looks around her, her hands on her hips.
"And no knife tricks," I say, my voice laced with amusement.
"I started when I was six, you know. But I think it's absolutely great you have an age limit. No kid should be exposed to what's happening out there."
I nod, my teeth grazing my lip ring. "Okay, spunky, there are a few more trainers here and they'll explain the basics to you."
"What's with all the nicknames?" She asks, amused. "I have a name, you know?"
"I am aware of that. Now, go get them, tiger," I say before turning around, my lips pulling in a smirk.
"Yes. . . H."