A/N: Neck vein. That is all.
~ Trigger Warning: Brief mentioning of self harm.
ges·ture
Céline.
Sun. Blaring hot sun, on a Sunday evening. It was setting, but the heat felt unbearable. I should be inside in an air conditioned building or at home; but no, here I am outside, sitting like a fool, waiting for someone who probably won't even show up.
I'd never waited for anyone before — not for anything. I'm an incredibly punctual person and hates whenever anyone is late. If they aren't on time, I leave; but again, no. Here I am, doing something that I absolutely hate, just to be around the person who brings me happiness in life. Let's not forget that the person, is a man. Who does that? I definitely don't; but again, I am.
Fuck. Fuck me and my heart.
I stretched out my legs, straightening them out, attempting them to get a tan from the tiniest bit of sunshine left. It was practically dark out, who was I even kidding? In a way, it would first time that they wouldn't burn. I quietly laughed to myself. They probably will, though. This was also the first day I've worn shorts during this season. I hate shorts, but Josie forced me to buy them one day when we were at the mall. That's another thing I hate — the mall. A place that's filled with teenagers that try to act like they're 'all that'. When in reality, they're not. Stop Céline. Stop judging people. I thought we already talked about this.
Fuck. Fuck me and my mind.
The only positive thing about these shorts, was that they were the only thing I could wear in this blazing heat, that didn't make me roast like a damn marshmallow. I hated showing off my legs. I wasn't lacking self confidence, but I just didn't like showing my skin — or the marks on the midst of tops of my thighs. That was mainly it.
Anytime I look in a mirror, or down at my naked self, my mind goes back to my past. I don't hate my past, because it's what made me be who I am today; but there are always some things that we wished we could reverse. Doing that to my body, was the main thing on my list — and of course, dying my hair blonde one time, was another. They made me feel like I wasn't myself. I always just wanted to be me.
Whenever I remember that, I see almost the exact resemblance of the physical appearance between my sister and I. She's always wanted to see photos of how I looked in the past, but I don't have any. I don't like documenting my own past through photos, even though those are the physical things that you can see which remind you of that specific time. It's only been recent that I've started entering the screen with others. I constantly wanted to keep the happy times of my life, recorded by a simple photograph — especially when it came to Hazel. Generally speaking though, I hated being in pictures; but taking them, was a whole other story.
A picture is worth a thousand words — so the saying goes. Not in my mind though. A picture is worth much, much more. There is something about them that makes every single person look at it in a completely different way. Uniqueness lies within them, even if it's only a simple landscape photo. Certain people find it beautiful, whilst others, find it to be 'average'. The difference doesn't change with any other style of photography. Paintings are the same. But the most beauty in the world, comes through visual reality. Seeing things in present time and being there in person. That is the way to truly see and experience a moment, time, or place. Seeing is believing. Believing is understanding. Understanding is reality. Everything is one connected circle from live-time, to a frozen still, to the memory that occurs from it. It's all shared in the future and becomes a part of our minds, souls; and our hearts.
My thoughts were interrupted as I noticed that the sun had set and the sky was already dark. It almost felt like I was in an abyss. Alone, but surrounded by life. Things surrounded me and it wasn't just the unknown. Unknown came in two forms. One being the things we have yet to discover or haven't physically seen or experienced — the galaxy being a simple example. The second, being our future. We never know what will happen in the next second of our lives.
However long I was sitting here, made me know that time was just a mere 'thing'. Yes it's something that gives us an almost-accurate way of knowing what events are occurring throughout the day; but, sometimes without it, we get lost in life. We are able to think and see things differently. Without noticing time, you notice other things you've never seen before; and I loved that with such deep passion.
For the second time being here tonight, my thoughts were broken when I smelled a strong aroma of a drink I knew very well, and loved more than my life — coffee.
I turned my head slightly to find the man who has turned my life upside down, in just a mere mere few weeks. He looked absolutely stunning as he walked towards me — I swear he had to be a model in some other life — as he carried two cups of coffee in his hands. A grin was playing at his lips and I couldn't help but smile. Of course, tan boots, black jeans, and a white shirt, were the clothes that adorned his beautiful body. Somehow, there was only one other thing that my mind kept telling me; how was he not melting in this heat?
"For you." Was the first thing that he said to me, handing me a cup, then took the same seat he's been sitting since the first day I met him. The spot we've shared, just to my right.
"Oh my goodness, this smells amazing." I replied, without thanking him.
"What? No, thank you?" He sarcastically questioned, raising a brow.
"I'll thank you after I taste it." I smirked, taking the plastic lid off of the paper cup. I could feel his eyes on me as I took a first sip, but immediately moved it back, sticking out my tongue.
"Hot, hot, hot!" I said, placing the drink down beside me, and fanned my mouth with my hand. Harry laughed loudly at me, but I glared at him. "You could've warned me not to take a big sip."
"Sorry." He apologized with a shrug, being entirely insincere. A chuckle still escaped from his mouth and a grin resulted from it. I wanted to smack that expression of his face, the longer I felt my tongue tingle from the burning sensation; but I didn't. I couldn't.
"Gee, how kind." I scoffed.
"You should be thankful I brought you coffee."
"Shush, Styles. Take two." I said, grabbing hold of the cup, blowing on the dark liquid, cooling it off slightly. I went ahead and took another —smaller — sip and took in the flavour. I immediately turned my head towards him.
"Oh, my, God. Where the hell did you get this from?" My eyes widened and a large smile appeared on my face.
"It's a secret." He smirked at me, drinking from his own.
"Come on, tell me!" I pushed, trying to get the truth out of him.
"Thank me and I'll tell you." He spoke, a teasing tone filling his words.
"Thank you for this absolutely amazing coffee." I sincerely spoke. "Now tell me where you got it."
"Damn woman, so pushy." A grin seemed permanently tattooed on his lips.
"So?" I waited, rather impatiently; and of course, he was taking he sweet time torturing me as time slowly went by.
A smirk then formed on his face and my eyes widened, in hope. "I lied, I'm not telling you."
His expression remained the same, whilst I immediately frowned from his response. This little shit.
"What the hell? Come on!" I whined, clasping my hands together, practically begging to know the hidden information he kept from me. It wasn't a life or death situation; but it was vital and I needed to know.
"You're not getting it out of me." He shook his head, that smirk still on his beautiful face.
"Fuck you." I said, turning my head back out to face the city.
"I did that earlier, thank you." He chuckled and I looked at him with wide eyes, seeing that he was dead serious.
"Oh God." I cringed, shaking my head at him. "Please don't tell me more."
"I won't; but that's only because you said please." He said, innocently, then took another sip of his coffee.
"Remind me again why I agreed to meet with you on the weekends." I bit my lip, holding in a smile — which failed in mere milliseconds.
"I don't know exactly. I'm quite a handful, you know."
"Clearly." I laughed, as did he. My eyes watched him carefully as he placed his drink beside him and I took my moment to speak again. "You're not a handful though."
"What?"
"You. You're a box of wonder, not a handful. We all come with our successes, miseries, and pasts; and all of that, is baggage. Without it, we wouldn't be who we are." I said, chewing on the inside of my cheek, debating on taking this conversation to a slightly deeper topic. "Whoever we decide to be with, should have to accept it all, to be able to live a life together."
"But isn't it the worst, when you love someone, and you have to bring it along with you?"
"No." I shook my head. "That person should love them for who they are. Problems can come along the way, no matter what happens. What, because someone gets sick during the relationship, are they going to up and leave them? Just for that reason, whatever it may be? If they did, it wouldn't be unconditional love. In my opinion, that's plain selfish."
"How would they know what kind of love it is though? I mean, if it's unconditional or not."
"You just, know." My lips curled upwards and a warm feeling overtook my heart.
I smiled for the sake of giving Harry the answer he needed. I smiled for the sake of making sure I believed it. I smiled for the sake that it was a true reality. I smiled for the sake of my own feelings. Feelings that come out of nowhere and hit right where they want to be. Home.
"You know, the same thing works with friendships."
"You mean, us?"
"We're friends, yeah?"
"I'd like to think so. What about you?"
"I think we've surpassed the friendship line after you told me those God-awful knock-knock jokes." I laughed.
"Hey! Those were funny." He whined — in a somehow, manly way. It was actually very adorable, considering it came from the appearance Harry showed.
"Yes. They were hilarious, indeed; but that's just because of how bad they are."
"You're mean."
"I'm right."
"I won't tell you one ever again."
"Works for me."
"Okay, now you're really mean." He frowned and I couldn't help but smile widely at the fact he was actually pouting.
"You know I'm joking right. That's what friends do."
"I like our friendship."
"So do I." More than you could possibly know.
"Harry?" I asked after another hour or so of complete silence. The only actions that were made by simultaneously drinking identical drinks, until they were both finished to the very last drop; and for the man to my right, a few movements of smoking a cigarette. He turned to look at me, as he blew out a puff of light grey air from his mouth.
"Thank you again for the coffee." I showed a small smile.
"It was nothing."
"No. It was everything." I said and he looked at me, slightly puzzled by the single word. I knew he would never understand it; and like everything else, I didn't want him too. I liked how close we were, both physically and mentally; but anything more, would destroy us. I knew that too well; and something inside told me, that he was well aware. Even if the the feelings weren't the same — that's if they even existed.
..
Harry.
I don't think that I ever get enough when it comes to talking with C. She's got so much up her sleeve; whether it'd be witty things to say, her wise remarks, the intricate quality from the way her mind works, and just the fact she could make anyone laugh.
There were so many things that I wanted to know about her; yet, I rarely asked her questions about herself. I didn't know what the reason for that was.
Was I afraid to know the answer to them? But why would I be? She's just a person. No. She's just a friend. No. It's because she's, C. Yes.
Her entire life intrigued me. Just who she is, made me curious and beyond. I rarely knew proper bits about it — other than the fact she's got a sister, a niece, is a foster child, used to play softball, and used to live in Detroit. That was it. The rest of her, was a fucking mystery. It wasn't just that, it was a puzzle. People say 5000 piece puzzles are complicated and difficult to solve, but C overtook that title.
I wanted to know more about her; and the only way to do that, was to be just as curious as she is. That, on its own, scared the fucking hell out of me.
"C, do you play any instruments?"
That was a start. Yeah, I think that's a good start. Shit, why am I so damn nervous?
"No. I wish I did. Do you?"
"I used to, yeah." I simply said, and before she got the chance to ask the question I was expecting, I replied. "I played the piano."
"When did you start?"
"I think I was about three." I chuckled, recalling the memory. "My mum decided to put me in a music school and they basically gave every kid several instruments to see if one sticks with them. For me, it was the piano. I was even offered the chance to go into music school on a scholarship. I loved playing it and even did so many recitals; I even composed some songs of my own. I guess you could say I was a piano nerd."
I couldn't help, but curl my lips upwards when I saw C smile. "I played for years all up until..." I paused, realizing my story was going a bit too far in my past. "...until my life just got busy."
"So you don't play anymore?"
"No. It's been a few years since I stopped."
"I guess life can do that to you." She said, emphasising on that specific word. It was obvious that she understood that something big in my life, was the reason why I quit doing one of my favourite hobbies.
"Yeah. It definitely can."
"Do you still have one? A piano? I mean, I guess you had one at home since you played a lot."
"Um, no. I got rid of it."
"Oh." She stopped. "Well, whatever the reason that made you stop playing is, you should never back away from something you loved so much."
If only she knew the reason, she'd say otherwise.
"Maybe one day." I lied, letting out a short sigh. I saw her smile, a sad one. I had a feeling that she knew I wasn't telling the truth. The thing was, I didn't even know who I was lying to — her or me.
"How was your week?" She asked, completely changing the subject. Bless her.
"It was good, I guess. Nothing interesting. I just lived, that's the most we can do."
Lies. That's one of the biggest lies out there. There was always something we can do in every single second we live. We can change the world; but do we really? Yes. Do I really? No.
All I could do was wait for her reply, but she said nothing. The two of us just continued to sit together in silence. It was the same thing we've been doing for weeks; and I wouldn't change it — even if my life depended on it. I couldn't change it.
..
"Alright, so what's on the agenda today?" I asked, hoping one of these idiots would actually know the answer.
I've been dealing a lot more lately. I don't know exactly how that happened, it just did. He's always been impressed with the way I work, but I just didn't understand why the load of assignments was increasing. Was it the fact he was getting more clients? Was it the fact that he just wanted to put me on the list of almost every deal? Was it...just because?"
None of my mates knew that this was happening. Of course they knew I dealt; but to their knowledge, they were just smaller sales. Nothing dangerous — per se. Like everything else in my life, that ship has sailed a couple of weeks ago. Ever since Client 52's incident, I've been put on the deal list for bigger deliveries. You'd think he'd decide to have me lay low for a while, unless if he liked the way I handled the situation. It seemed that it made him see that the illegal world, would see I was a threat to them.
The thing was, I didn't even do the work, Vince did. He was the one who shot the pathetic man to death. I was just there. I was definitely surprised after we came back to the warehouse that I didn't get shit for putting us in a dangerous situation — it was looked that I overtook the problem and got the man where he needed to be — and Vince wasn't upset. In a way, that bothered me. As much as I didn't care about him, the fact we always give each other shit, entertained me. I was in need of that, especially that night, but I didn't get the satisfaction I hoped for.
My idiocy ran even further when I decided to go to the bench and see C. I was almost ninety-nine percent sure that she saw the bloody marks and bruises on my knuckles. They were clear as day, but she didn't mention them. It was another thing that surprised me. I didn't even know that I had them until after I got home.
All I knew now, was that I wasn't entirely thrilled about constantly dealing, but I didn't complain. That was the problem; but was it really? I couldn't give a shit about my life or about anyone else's.
Fuck.
The problem was, that might have changed.
It's not that it's just about C, though. It's also about my family. The fact that he knew my sister came to visit, they've automatically been added to use against me as threat. It's not that I would ever go against him; but no matter what, they've always been leverage. That was another thing that I hated. Though, if any of the members in the gang were to harm them, they would immediately be eliminated. Only he was in charge of who goes down or not. One of the rules around here is that none of the dealers or heads are allowed to harm one another's family members. Unfortunately in my case, I had the most to be careful about. The rest also mainly don't give two fucks about their own.
"There's a little warning we have to send to Client 47. The prick is thirteen hours late on his payment." Vince informed me.
"We?"
"Yes, we." He spoke, harshly. "No matter which job you have to do, you have to have someone with you."
"What the fuck? Why?"
"Boss' orders."
"Now I need to have a fucking babysitter."
"Yes. You're apparently on our protection list; a list that has never existed until now. We have to guard you."
"Fuck this."
"You're upset about this? Talk about all of us, we don't give a shit if anything happens to you."
"Likewise."
"Great, now that we have that settled, let's go." Before he could finish what he said, I was already heading towards the door. "Seriously? You couldn't even wait 'til I finished? Oh and by the way, you're going with Mitch today."
I thought about replying to his annoying arse, but I just decided to keep quiet. I actually get comfortable going with wingman number two today. I had enough of Vince's bullshit for two weeks.
..
"So what're we here for?" He asked me and I mentally felt like hitting my head against a brick wall — or his.
"Client 47 needs a bit of a warning, so we're going to give him one."
"Let's get moving then." He smirked and got out of the car.
This time, we were given a black van. Nothing fancy, even though my partner wanted to take the silver Lamborghini. He definitely must've been dropped as a baby.
Our client was exactly where he always was, his home address down in Westport. In public, he always claimed to be some homeless man, even though he owned one of the richest houses in the area — a multimillionaire that understood what money is capable of; yet he had absolutely no idea what to properly use it. The genius had the mind of a peanut; and clearly, he though that cocaine was basically candy that you could find at a grocery store.
He had his office in his basement, hidden well enough for cops and the FBI, but not for us. Every single client of him, had a hidden camera in every single home. None of them were traceable or had any sort of metal built into the tiny piece. A microphone was built in, with the option of turning it on or off, on our end. There was always someone watching the cameras a all time, making sure things were running smoothly. He had all of his clients wrapped around his pinky, controlling them as he pleases.
Mitch rang the doorbell and we stood in front of his front door — of his mansion. It's not like none of us had money, we did; but it wasn't like 47. My family, though, topped him. A middle aged woman, in a uniform opened greeted us quickly. It was evident based on her uniform that she wasn't just paid for her cleaning services.
"We're here to see Mr. Mariano, please." Mitch spoke formally. In a way, it shocked me that he even knew the Client's actual name. These were the only times when we used their names — when referring to them in a public setting.
"Do you have an appointment?"
"We don't need one, pretty lady." Mitch said and past the woman. We walked through the foyer and into the home, going to the exact place we needed to go. She tried to stop us; but gave up when we entered the wing she wasn't allowed in.
"Well, look who we have here, Mitch. I think 47 seems to actually be alive. Funny how we were told he died. I guess many lies are said when they owe someone money." I smirked, as did my partner. "I feel like you didn't get the memo the first time. How many times do you need to be reminded, 47?"
"Once?"
"Wonderful. We're so glad you know. So, where's the money?"
"I — I don't have it. I don't owe anyone money."
"But didn't you just say that 'once', is a reminder? Strange how many times a person can forget in less than a minute."
"Maybe we should give him a reminder."
"I think the way your mind works, Crowden." Another smirk crept up on my face — with the use of our false surnames — and the two of us swiftly pulled out the guns from the back of our waistbands.
"Okay, okay, please don't. I'll get you the money. Tomorrow, I promise."
"I don't do shitty pinky promises. The money will be dropped off at the bin on 27th and Grand Boulevard tomorrow at eight in the evening." My tone firm with a hint of rage filling it.
"47? Is this your family? Pretty girls you have, one son. How nice." Mitch grinned evilly. "If it is one second later, you wont see them again. We'll make sure of it; and oh, if you attempt to hide until then, they will be killed the second we leave this house. Do I make myself clear?"
"You two are fucking psychos." He muttered and was faced with two harsh glares.
"What was that?" I said, nearing him.
"I said that I'll make sure it'll be a go."
"We don't like liars. You called us two fucking psychos, right Crowden?"
"That's what I heard Kent." Mitch smiled widely.
"Sounds like we need to give him a proper reminder." I said, raising my hand, and shot towards his arm. The bullet graze his skin and he screamed out from the pain. I didn't want to physically shoot at him, but truly give him a taste of what his gang is capable of.
That was them.
I was a part of them.
I hated who I have become.
This wasn't who I was; but it is now.
"The next time, the target won't be so kind." I threatened.
Mitch and I made our way back outside, and I saw the maid's face frightened from the sound of the gunshot. She didn't know where it came from or if someone was hit. No one knew where 47's office actually was. It will be interesting to see how he'll cover his wound.
"Fuck, that was awesome! I never thought you had the balls to do something like that."
"You don't know me." I stated.
It was true. No one knew me. I didn't even know who I'd become. I never planned on firing my gun tonight — or any time. I've only ever shot once before and I regretted it. This time, I wasn't sure if I did or not.
That on its own, scared the fucking shit out of me.
..
A/N:
Harry got Céline coffee and he's still confused af.
Harry's getting worse. He doesn't like that. I don't either.
What did you like about the chapter? Tell me, tell me!
And have you seen those photos of H in the forum boxing? I screamed.
Pretty please, with a cherry on top, press on that little star on the chapter. Those are always nice, little gifts.
Much love!
S x