Harry's foot pushes dangerously hard down upon the gas as we speed forward back towards base. I'm hardly in the right state to worry about automotive safety right now. What the hell did Harry and I just hear?
"General Sanders was there!" Harry exclaims, clearly still in shock. I nod along. He's right. General Sanders was there and he was talking to the sketchy voice I heard in the hallway just last week.
"Yeah... He was..." I trail off, getting lost in my own thoughts. What on Earth could they have been talking about? Sanders mentioned something- no, someone. He was talking about us- the recruits- I'm certain of it. What the hell are we supposed to be ready for? What was Sanders so afraid to talk about that he couldn't even mention it in a deserted cement building? I hate having to question my commanding officer, but the conservation Harry and I just witnessed was as sketchy as they come.
"God-damnit, Rosy, say something! You're the one who made us go in there!"
"I don't know what to say..." I tell the truth, staring out the window trying to process all this new information. What should I be thinking right now? Should I leave MI6? Should I confront General Sanders? Should I tell the other recruits? Technically MI6 business is none of mine yet, but the tone of the entire conversation I just heard didn't sound right. Something fishy is going on. It has to be.
"What the hell were they talking about?"
"Do you think he meant us? The recruits, I mean?" I spurt out the single thing on my mind. If General Sanders was talking about Harry, me, and the rest of the recruits, this is sort of my business, isn't it?
"It sure sounded like it! But what could they be getting us ready for? It didn't sound like they were talking about normal initiation." Harry goes on, his voice a little louder than usual. He clearly doesn't like being caught up in this mess.
"I have... I have no idea. They said it would only take 5 minutes... And at the end, Sanders said..." I trail off as I try to remember. I know that the husky voice started to say something and the General cut them off. What were they saying?
"Sanders said what?!" Harry exclaims gruffly, obviously annoyed as I zone out.
"The other voice. It said something about the union and then I thought he was going to say..." I begin again before my voice fades out. Now that I think about it, I'm not really sure what I heard.
"What? What did he say? Finish your sentences, Rosy." Harry bossily commands, obviously frustrated. I would roll my eyes if I wasn't in so much shock.
"Destruction, or destroy. Or something bad." I finish. I sense Harry turn his head to look at me in surprise but don't meet his gaze. I don't have the will power to even move my fingers right now.
"No... There's no way. General Sanders works for MI6. He works for the Queen. Whatever they were talking about can't be bad." Harry reasons. I want to believe him, but something about the entire situation I just witnessed stops me from doing so.
"How do you know that?"
"Because! Obviously he knows what he's talking about if he's been sent to train us. The government trusts him. He can't be doing anything bad, he's on our side." Harry rambles on, trying to make himself feel better. I've never seen Harry so plainly panicked in my life. All the times he's gone swimming I haven't really talked to him much. This is a new side of him.
"How can you be so sure he's on our side?" I question. I don't feel skeptical, but rather I want a true answer. How is Harry so certain that General Sanders has good intentions? I want to understand what he's thinking. Maybe I'll feel better if I know, too.
"It's just stuff we don't understand. We're just recruits. They're not going to tell us about the confidential military plans. It was just Sanders doing his job, I'm sure that's all it was..." Harry continues on, mumbling as he does so. I have to strain to hear him.
Maybe Harry's right. We have no idea what we're meddling with. Maybe it is top secret information that we don't have security clearance to hear yet. Maybe it's a mission that we've not been assigned yet. How could our instructor be plotting against MI6? Like Harry said: obviously MI6 trusts him enough to let him head the training operation. He must know what he's talking about. Harry and I haven't the slightest idea of foreign affairs or military tactics or future plans. How can we judge Sanders when we know next to nothing about MI6?
"Yeah... You're right. It can't be anything bad." I start to agree. Partly because Harry's reasoning makes sense and partly because the prospect of Sanders turning on MI6 scares me too much to consider. I don't want to think about what would happen if us recruits were at his disposal and he had bad intentions.
"Yeah... It's just government stuff. It's government stuff we don't know yet, that's all it is. Nothing serious." Harry goes on, I'm sure trying to convince himself more than me. i don't care right now. I need anything to reassure me that everything is going to proceed as normal.
Harry and I quiet down as we both come to the conclusion that we shouldn't doubt Sanders. After all, he hasn't done anything sketchy so far... except for try to drown us, but that was protocol, I'm sure. He's our supervisor and we're meant to obey him, not question him. I'm not eager to get thrown out of MI6 and I know if I bring this up Harry and I will be booted straight off.
We pull up onto the track near the entrance to the underground base. Nobody is waiting to greet us. Harry decides to leave the car in park outside and we both descend. Thankfully, the smell of food wafts up from the mess hall as we enter the building. With all the commotion I forgot how hungry I was. We haven't eaten since we went to McDonalds 7 hours ago.
Harry stays silent. Even though we've decided not to question Sanders I can tell he's still freaked out. He's stiff as a board and his hands remain clenched into tight fists, his knuckles turning a ghostly white. I haven't seen him so tense since training began and we were at each other's throats.
When we get to the mess hall the four other recruits are already eating. I take my usual spot next to Mac and Sarah. Nothing seems to be wrong when I greet them. I notice that Harry resumes his old spot across the mess hall with Victoria and Adam, away from me. I don't question his odd behaviour. I'd rather him be upset and confused over there than around me- I know if we get into an argument right now it won't end well.
I ask Sarah and Mac about their mission at brunch this morning, trying to take my mind off the events of the past 15 minutes. I surely can't mention the incident to either of my friends. Either they'll snitch on me to General Sanders and I'll be kicked from training, or they'll take matters into their own hands. For some reason, I'm afraid of what might happen if they do.
I try to keep a subtle smile over my features to mask the confusion I feel and eventually Mac and Sarah's continual story starts to take my mind off things. This is not the time to freak out. Sanders is our supervisor and we should trust him. He knows what he's doing- he's been at this job a lot longer than me and has far more experience. There's nothing to worry about... Nothing at all...
Our late dinner finishes and I can hardly keep my eyes open. All Harry and I did for the entire day was sit in a car and talk, but for some reason I'm exhausted. This, admittedly, is the latest I've stayed up in a while. Given that Harry and I are up everyday at 4 in the morning training, I don't blame myself. So, I quickly grab everything I'll need for tomorrow morning and change into workout gear. Before people enter the dormitory I slip out with my blanket and pillow once again and make for the gym. Not even the confusion and stresses of today can make me forget about my attacker. There's no way I'm sleeping anywhere near them tonight, nor any other night.
I lay my yoga mats out as I did last night and bring my head down to rest. I could get used to these mats, they're not so bad. The light is out and I'm drifting off when I hear the gentle creak of the gym door opening. With the lights off, all I see is a tall silhouette standing at the entrance to the room.
Instantly, I sit up and back myself against the wall. My hand automatically goes for the knife in my sock and I hold it out defensively. Lets see if this fucker can get to me without getting a hole sliced through his stomach first...
Then the lights turn on. Instead of a large masked figure, Harry stands before me. His hair looks messier than usual, curls sticking out haphazardly from atop his head, and there are prominent bags under his eyes. I guess he's not used to late nights, either.
"Harry, what are you doing here?" I huff, letting the old tone of annoyance I used to address him with slip into my speech. I don't mean to be mean to Harry, but the fright he just gave me has put me in a sour mood. Harry ignores my rude greeting and takes a step forward.
"Why are you sleeping in here?" He questions. Didn't he ask me this this morning? Does he really need to know the reason for why i do everything?
"I don't want to sleep in the dorms." i surprise myself by answering truthfully. Who would've thought that I'd be willingly telling the truth to Harry Styles? In fact, I did the same just this afternoon as we sat in McDonalds. Weird.
"Why?" He dares to ask. I shoot him a look of scepticism, the sleepless day getting to me. I choose not to answer. After staring at him for a while something seems to click.
"Oh... right. Well you can sleep there. I mean, I'll be in there." Harry tells me. Here it is again- Harry being nice. What the hell has spurred on this session of kindness? He didn't even have the heart to sit with me today at dinner.
"You're not much use when you're asleep." I state. Harry crosses his arm and watches me closely.
"I would wake up. I mean, if something were to happen. I wouldn't be asleep." He, for some reason, attempts to assure me. What the hell is Harry trying to pull right now? I know we're trying this new thing where we're nice to each other, but I still don't really trust Harry. I should considering he saved my life, but I don't fully. Not yet.
"I know you're trying to be nice and stuff, but I'm fine sleeping here." I assert, eager to lay back down. All i want is to fall back asleep. I have to be up in 6 hours and dropping.
"I'm not- I'm not trying to be nice." Harry snaps, getting defensive. I roll my eyes and begin to lay back down.
"it's obvious, Harry."
His fists clench.
"I'm just trying to stop you from looking like a total loony. You'll look mad sleeping on the floor every night like a homeless person." He sneers and I sigh. That didn't take long.
"If you're going to be mean you should leave. Just let me look like a loony, why does it matter?" I question, meeting Harry's piercing gaze. I can sense the frustration radiating off him right now.
"Because I'm your partner and I don't want people to think I'm mental, too. You're making me look bad." Harry responds cooly. I flip over and lay down against my small yoga mat.
"Whatever. Goodnight." I retort gruffly. Harry and I's exchange has not put me in a better mood. I'm still grateful to him for saving my life but I can't deny he's annoying as ever. I hear Harry sigh with anger. Instead of stomping out of the gym and turning the lights off, I hear his footsteps approaching me.
I can't help it and turn on my small yoga mat, facing Harry.
"What the hell are you doing?" I question, watching him incredulously. Harry stalks across the room and retrieves 2 yoga mats.
"Sleeping here, dumbass. What does it look like?"
"What- Why are you sleeping here?" I cry, absolutely astonished. Harry is giving up a goodnights rest to sleep with me?
"At least if both of us aren't in the room people might think we're fucking or something. Then I won't look crazy..." Harry gives me an excuse and I scoff. I know he's not being serious and somehow I can't help but feel a smidgen of appreciation for his actions. He's obviously sleeping here because he doesn't want me to be alone.
"You're disgusting." I sneer, turning back over away from Harry. When the lights are off and Harry has resumed his place next to me, he can't see my face. Good thing, or else he might have seen my smile.
"And you're mad. Goodnight." He breathes. I don't provide an answer and wrap my blanket tighter around me. Having Harry sleep so close to me calms me. I hate that it does, but it just does. I don't know why or how, but there's nothing I can do to stop the relief that flows through my body and the small leap in my heart as I drift to sleep.
***
"Good Harry! That's good! Try one more time." I exclaim, clapping my hands gently as I survey the tall man in front of me. Harry has just completed his fastest- and most normal looking- lap yet. He shakes water from his shaggy locks and affords me a roll of his eyes. I try to ignore his rude gesture and imagine Sanders handing us our agent's badges at the end of training. I endure swim training with Harry every morning so that I will become an agent. This is important and necessary, I can't give up now.
Harry takes a deep breath and dives back into the water. We've progressed from swimming through the shallow end to doing a full lap of the pool. For about 20 seconds Harry swims over water that's 9 feet deep and he doesn't freak out. This might not seem like an accomplishment to some, but for Harry and I it's a big deal. He no longer needs a paddle board as he swims and his movements look natural- so natural that he might be able to go faster than me soon.
After another half hour of practice, I think Harry might finally, finally have the hang of swimming laps. It only took a week and a half- maybe 2- but the progress he's made is astounding. I guess he really does want to become an agent as badly as I do.
"Right. We can stop with that. I think you might be set." I tell him eagerly, attempting to stay positive. I find that if I just ignore his snide comments there's a better chance of us getting along. The only problem is the sweeter I am, the more irritating Harry becomes. It's been 2 days since our intimate encounter in the changing room after he pulled me out of the pool. Having had the day yesterday to talk and even out the playing field, we are not so cautious around each other anymore. I can sense rude, snarky Harry starting to make a comeback. Although, one thing is different. Now when he says rude things to me, he doesn't really mean them. If that's all I can get for now, I'll take it.
"What do you mean 'I'm set'?" Harry questions with a quirk in his brow.
"I don't think you need anymore practice doing laps. You've got the hang of it."
"Really?" I see Harry's lips turn up by just the slightest. I don't push my boundaries and only nod before looking away. I know if I was congratulatory Harry would end up shouting at me.
"Well, what should we do now?" Harry asks, looking to me.
"You need to practice holding your breath and staying underwater for more than 10 seconds." I answer. I see Harry cringe and his face scrunch up in distaste.
"I don't want to do that." He huffs.
"I don't want to be awake at 4 in the morning, but look where I am." I goad, rolling my eyes. I know now that Harry won't take my teasing to heart.
I see Harry shudder as he thinks about the prospect of holding his head underwater, but sighs and uncrosses his arms. I've come to learn this means he's ready to begin. I take a couple steps closer and stand a few feet in front of him.
"We'll stay in the shallow end. Just sit cross-legged on the bottom for as long as you can. Don't come up until you need air." I direct. I see the familiar look of nerves cross Harry's face but he does as I say. I watch him sink under the water and rest the bottom of his body against the floor. His face is scrunched up the tightest I've ever seen. As soon as he stops moving bubbles from his nose begin to descend upwards. He's letting out all his air.
In a matter of seconds Harry is back up, gasping for breath. I know he has the capacity to go longer than that- with the way he runs long distance his lungs might be the strongest out of all the recruits, even mine. Only a little, though.
"You could have stayed under for longer." I accuse, raising my brow. I see a defensive look cross Harry's face.
"No, I couldn't have! I was gonna pass out down there." He exclaims. I sigh and look away.
"How long can you hold your breath above water?"
"I don't know." Harry shrugs, reminding me of a child.
"Fine. Lets find out." I state, crossing my arms and waiting. Harry rolls his eyes yet again, but I see his mouth shut and the rise and fall of his chest ceases. I begin to count in my head. Astonishingly, I get up to 1:58 until Harry sucks in a deep breath.
"Harry, that was two minutes! You can stay longer than 10 seconds underwater." I tell him. Harry doesn't look happy about my discovery, but doesn't argue. I can see the permanent frown he usually wears start to set over his face.
Without my direction he begins to submerge himself once again. As always, I see his shoulders tighten, his fists clench and his face scrunch up as tight as possible before he goes under. This just won't do. The reason why he can't stay under is because he uses all his energy worrying. I can't for the life of me figure out why he thinks something will happen while we stand in the shallow end of the pool, but I've learned better than to question it. As predicted, he only stays under for 10 seconds before surging back up and gasping for air.
He looks to me and I stare disapprovingly. He can tell that I'm getting annoyed but I'm trying not to show it. If I get annoyed he'll get annoyed, then angry, then we'll fight. I'm trying to avoid that this week. So, I take a deep breath and assess the situation.
"The reason you can't stay under is because you're using up all your oxygen when you clench your muscles under the water. You have to relax and keep your heart rate down as much as possible."
"That's fucking likely." Harry retorts sarcastically. I sigh and look away, deep in thought.
"What'll make you feel better so you don't pussy out every time?" I question, unable to stop myself from slipping the insult in. Harry isn't trying as much as he should be. He understands by now that he needs to get this done for us to become agents, so why won't he cooperate?
"What? I don't pussy out." Harry defends himself as always, a deep crease setting between his brows. I roll my eyes and let out a huff of frustration. This is why normally teachers get paid- because they have to put up with this bullshit. I don't remember ever giving Harry a hard time when he's taught me to fight.
Then an idea pops into my head. What's the one thing Harry won't rest until he achieves? Beating me. Maybe competition is the way to get this done. If he thinks he needs to hold his breath longer than me then maybe he'll have an incentive to stay under and actually try to get better. His recent relative kindness is not enough to disguise the fact that he will still do anything to beat me- even if we are partners.
"Fine. I'll do it with you. Just know that if I stay under longer than you then we'll know you're a pussy." I incentivize in the harshest way possible- a way I know will work. I'm pretty confident that Harry won't get mad at me as I say this- we're past that point now.
He groans but doesn't object.
"Ready? One, two, three-"
We both dive under water. I let my body relax and slowly sink down to the bottom of the pool as tiny bubbles escape through my nose. My eyes clothes and i feel at peace for a moment as I concentrate on holding my breath. I remind myself that I need to practice this, too. I have to keep my edge over the other recruits, after all.
30 seconds pass and I am amazed that Harry is still under. I think my plan might actually work, but then I hear loud splashing from above me and Harry gasping. The frown on my face forms before I even surface.
"Harry!" I exclaim, letting the frustration show a little now. I can see a hint of apology in his eyes but I know he'll never admit it. It's as if he wants to do it, he just can't.
"I'm sorry, ok!" He exclaims. I don't want to rile him up but staying calm so far hasn't worked. Harry is an explosive person- maybe I need some explosiveness to get to him.
"Why do you have such an issue with this?" I question. I remember asking him this once before, the very first time we started swimming in the mornings together. His reaction then was quite hostile. I see the same scowl overtake his face as he registers my question now.
"It's none of your fucking business." He growls. It's like I can see the wall going up as his eyes glaze over. Not this time.
"It is my business because I'm your partner and I'm trying to help you do this and I can't help you until I know. I want to become a fucking agent and so do you. Suck it up and tell me or we're both going to be booted." I exclaim, my words a little harsher than I intended. I guess my kind streak didn't last long. It's just no use, Harry frustrates me too much. I temporarily forget about the positive encounters we shared yesterday.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Well you have to talk about it. You can tell me or you can fail."
"I'm not going to fail."
"Oh really? Do you think General Sanders feels the same?!" I shout. My heart is racing at a million miles per hour and I can feel the blood in my cheeks burning my skin. I'm sure my entire body is red.
Harry looks away then sighs. I see the anger on his face gradually fade and his shoulders slump.
"Why do you want to know so bad?" He murmurs tentatively. I have never heard Harry speak so softly in my life.
"All I want to do is help you Harry. To become agents you need to hold your breath. You obviously have a problem with the water. If I know what the problem is I might be able to help..." I reason, hoping Harry understands. Both of our anger is gone now. I feel like I'm on the cusp, if only I can push Harry over the edge...
"It's not- It isn't- I don't want to-"
"-Harry, please." I urge softly to cease his stuttering. He stares down at the water for a while and then a long sigh escapes him. He looks up at me quickly. We only make eye contact for a quick second before he darts his gaze away.
"When I was 10 my father had already died- mugging." Harry begins. I don't dare speak and only stare at him as he continues.
"My mum and I were in the car on a bridge and it was the winter so the road was slippery and I guess there was construction on one of the rails..." He goes on. I have a feeling I know where this is going but bite my lip to keep from speaking.
"She skidded and we went-" Harry pauses and takes a deep breath- "We went over the side into the water. I see him cast his gaze down and look at the water surrounding us.
"My mum- she didn't know what to do. We just kind of sat there until the water was over our heads. It took her a couple tries to unbuckle my seatbelt and roll down the window. I- I couldn't breathe so I swam out as soon as I could." Harry recounts, a deep frown setting over his face. His face is turning red but I know he won't cry.
"I- I got my breath and swam back down but the car was sinking so fast and she couldn't- she couldn't get her seatbelt off. It was stuck. She pulled and pulled and it- it wouldn't budge. I just watched as she- well, she didn't get out of the car." Harry finishes. The swell of pain in my heart is alarming as I watch the tall, somber man before me.
"By the time the police got there she was- she hadn't- she wasn't-" Harry coughs and shakes his head- "that was the last time I saw her..."
He finally meets my gaze. I stare at him, speechless. I'm not quite sure what to do but try not to let the sorrow I feel show on my face- the last thing I need is Harry thinking I pity him. That won't help the situation at all.
"And now you don't like water?" I question. it's the first thing that comes to mind for me to say. If I say I'm sorry Harry will leave, I know it. I can tell he's pleased that I'm not treating him as a sob story.
"No, I don't like water."
"Harry, there's no car in the pool. There's nothing to keep you under the water. All you have to remember is that you can get up anytime you want." I try to comfort him in the least caring way possible. The story I just heard has completely changed my view of Harry, but I don't forget the man I used to know. He does not like to be sympathized with.
"But I just- I don't know. There's no way for me to know that. I just- I can't do it." He huffs frustratedly and his arms cross. I need to try a new approach. Obviously, even if he won't admit it and I can't do it directly, Harry needs comfort. He needs to know he's safe under the water before he can stay under the water. How the hell am I supposed to do that?
"Yes, you can do it. I know you can do it. Listen... I'm going to stay under the water as long as you do. As long as I'm there, you'll know that everything is fine. If something goes wrong, I'll tell you and we'll go back up..." I cautiously propose, waiting anxiously for Harry's reply. If he doesn't agree to this, I can't think of any other possible solutions.
I see him scowl, but eventually nod. I count us off and we both submerge ourselves. Harry looks a little more relaxed, but not by much. I concentrate on holding my breath, knowing that Harry will only stay under so long as I do. However, after another 30 seconds the man across from me is surfacing once again.
I jump up and wipe the water from my eyes. Harry is panting as usual but I don't have the heart to get mad at him in the same way I did last time.
"What happened?" I question.
"My eyes were closed- I couldn't tell if you were still there." He gasps, worry saturating his eyes. I take a deep breath and think.
"Ok, fine, then I'll hold onto you. That way you'll know I'm there..." I reason. I feel as though Harry has reverted back to an earlier stage of youth as I see him come undone under the pressure of the water, but this time I don't find it pathetic. I really want to help him. He slowly nods and complies.
I step forward and grab his forearm with my hand, keeping a tight grip. I avoid his gaze and count us off once more. We both go under and I try to keep my body relaxed. It's hard when my grasp on Harry is so tight. Without realizing, my fingers start to slip inch by inch. The difference isn't noticeable to me, but I guess it is to Harry. His arms come out in a panic and wrap around me desperately, trying to keep us connected as we sit under the water. I wouldn't quite call it a hug, but it's sure closer than Harry and I have ever been. We're positioned chest to chest and since we both sit cross legged on the floor, my legs are forced up and around his sides as I sit in his lap. I have no idea why the fuck we're sitting like this, but Harry is still under the water and it's been 45 seconds so there's no way in hell that I'm telling him to get off.
A minute goes by, and then another 30 seconds, and then another 30 seconds. I know Harry's been counting because as soon as the 2 minute mark goes by he brings us both up to the surface. As soon as my eyes are open I can see the jubilant smile on Harry's face matched exactly to mine.
"Harry, that was brilliant!" I exclaim joyously. His arms are still around my body and I'm not exactly sure what comes over me, but I get the urge to hug him. I've never hugged Harry before, but I do it anyway. To my surprise, when my arms wrap around his shoulders he doesn't pull away, but squeezes me tighter. In an uncharacteristic move, Harry picks me up slightly as we embrace. As if by instinct, my legs come to wrap around his waist and we're left in this position. To my utter disbelief, Harry doesn't immediately throw me off, but instead we remain like this for a second or two. Then I pull back and we're face to face. As soon as I meet his bright green eyes with my own alarm bells are sounding in my head.
I unwrap myself as fast as humanly possible from around him and dart away. We stand five feet apart yet again. We both stare at each other and have nothing to say. Harry is watching me with a look in his eyes I have never seen before- Harry has done a lot of things today that I have never seen before and, honestly, never expected to.
He doesn't break the awkward silence, so I do.
"Um, I think that's good for today. I'm gonna, um... change." I stutter before quickly wading past him to the side of the pool. The entire time I talk Harry stares at me oddly, his head slightly tilted and his expression that of bewilderment. I don't risk looking back as I scurry out of the pool and into the safety of the changing room.
I slide into a shower and start the hot water immediately. What the fuck just happened? What the fuck was that? I'm mortified. It's one thing for Harry to hold me while we're under the water but when we're above it... Why the fuck did I do that? A normal hug would have been perfectly fine! A normal hug would have been great! A curt handshake would have been better than whatever that was!
I shake my head and cringe at our awkward encounter. What the fuck must Harry be thinking right now? Oh my god. This is not good,
I can't help the large grimace on my face from staying put the entire time I shower and change. To my surprise, when I leave the changing room Harry is not gone as I expected. Instead, he remains in the water on his own, his head submerged entirely of his own accord. He's holding his breath on his own.
I stand and watch for a while and realize he's been under a whole 45 seconds without me present. I'm not sure how much longer he can stay under for without me there, but I don't want to risk him catching me watching. I quickly walk back to the dormitory, but can't help the smile on my face as I watch Harry reach a minute all on his own.