039

note: i flipped my own shit writing this. it took me hours.  ;)))))

Zayn.

He had eyed me down, eyes repeatedly following to me then to the electrical box that was closest to me behind the table. It hung on the wall, awaiting it's fuse to burns. Unfortunately, for Harry, I had to blow a fuse. In the split second of vision, I inhaled sharply and shot the box as quickly as I could. 

That was the first bullet.

It was lights out immediately. Every man in that room started shooting. The lack of light betrayed many of them. Throats burned with yells and cries of pains, or determined, angry shouts that made my stomach turn. Next to me, I heard movement. Liquids splashing. It was in that mil-second, that I found out Harry was tossing the bottles of toxic fumes. 

I crouched down when his large hands wrapped around my waist, covering my body with his. He bolted behind the velvet red curtains. My ankles nearly torn when the heels supporting my weight failed to maintain my balance. While bullets soared throughout the vast, grand ball room, hitting through walls, leaving debris, Harry and I were lucky enough to dodge plenty. 

It was Zayn's idea. We could escape, well Harry and I could, if I shot the electrical supply. It was not his main priority to keep me safe, more to keep the organization alive while my father was nowhere to be found. Yet, his sharp wit and my accurate saved the possibility of surviving once again. 

Without further ado, Harry and I were in the warm breeze outside once again. Maybe it was my adrenaline, but I could not hear properly. I stopped for a brief moment and threw off my heels. The pain in my bones was massive, and I had to get rid of the purpose to keep going. 

How many men died back there; it was beyond me. I knew plenty were done for, but I was hoping neither Liam or Zayn were killed. I doubt it, they're skilled enough and sharp enough to get out. Right now, however, Harry had other plans.

We were speeding down the road. All the while my heart was beating in my ears, blood running hot and adrenaline excessively high. I hissed when I shifted in my seat, attempting to look behind us for any unwanted company. 

I rolled up my dress, moving aside the part that revealed my left thigh. With my lip between my teeth, heavy breathing, I saw the patch of blood soaking through the black fabric. A car beeped its horn so loudly, it snapped me out of my trance. I was grazed by a bullet. Only grazed.

Placing the black fabric over it again, I held it and ignored the pain that was just now a dull ache. I will feel it when my level of adrenaline decreases. 

"I saw it," he snapped, pale green eyes never leaving the road. Zooming past cars and motorcycles, he clenched his jaw and glanced at me. "That needs to be taken care of right now." 

I disagreed. "I'm fine. We could be chased right now. They all know I'm here." 

"We're going to the hospital. In terms of my first instinct, they think I'm hiding you again. They won't look in the most obvious spots," Harry explained angrily. "And I need you to be quiet for me and cooperate. If I hadn't been so fucking soft, this would have never happened." 

"He knew where I was. While you were there, he had two theories," I informed him sternly, quickly. "One, I would be hidden where he knew I was. Two; you took me with you. I bet you the building we stayed in is utterly destroyed with evidence that they were there." 

Harry made a sharp turn, and I gripped my hip with a whimper. "Is it deep?" He asked lowly.

"Yeah. I'm bleeding quite a bit," I replied, gazing behind us again. So far, no other cars were breaking the speed limits. I knew he was ignoring what I had said before, but I softly added, "It was better for me to be with you and not make it so easy for him back in that building, Harry." 

"I don't want to hear you speaking about it anymore. You and I both will push this aside for the time being. We're currently on different plans right now," he informed me.

My eyes averted to the white of his knuckles. "You didn't tell me he recognized me back there, Harry." I stated quietly. "I wasn't aware of anything."

"I said no more of this fucking shit," Harry snapped. "And I did it so you wouldn't get any more terrified than you were. I was looking out for you. As usual -- now we're done talking about this." 

We arrived at the hospital with a halt and a screech of his tires. He left the driver's seat and I the passenger seat. He was more than upset when he came around my side, and lifted my leg to examine the damn injury. I hissed softly and he glanced up into my eyes before moving the fabric aside, seeing the dried blood around and the newly open wound. 

My back leaned against the car for a brief moment. Harry, with his usual furrowed eyebrows and clenched jaw, led me inside the building. The concrete beneath my bare feet was warm, and when we entered the hospital the cool contrast made the abused skin of my feet soothed.

Harry didn't ask for attention. The ER, as usual, was swarmed with busy nurses and traveling doctors. I looked around me, scanning the bodies lying down and the sick sitting with buckets of their bodily fluids. With a tight frown, I looked down and let my hair cover my identity.

He led me around a corner before we came across a nurse. Her brown eyes were exhausted and dull. She had bags under her eyes. Quite nicely, she asked, "Can I help you?" 

"Yes," Harry answered lowly. "She needs stitches on her left upper thigh to the hip. She's been bleeding quite a lot." 

She nodded. "Okay, sir. I would have to ask you to wait and fill out some forms." 

"We don't have time to wait. I've got to get out of here as fast as possible." 

"Sir. I'm sorry, but I cannot --" 

My breath hitched when Harry pulled his gun out, and aimed it right between her eyes. The look of utter horror paled her kind face. "Stitch her up or you will be in need of stitches." He was so emotionless and stern.

The woman nodded frantically, shakily leading us towards a room. "R-right this way, s-sir."

I felt so bad for her, and while she was turned I smacked Harry's arm. "You're fucking awful," I hissed at him quietly. He glanced down at me, and to my surprise, he grinned. A dimple prominent on his cheek, pale green eyes looking ahead as he dug his gun into the back pocket of his jeans. "Bipolarity is a serious issue," I added. 

Still no answer. We entered a room where she sat me down on the bed and began to do the stiching. I winced when she went through the process of cleaning it, watching how carefully and how accurately she puts the needle through. 

Beside me, Harry watched as well before running a hand through his hair. Once she began cutting off excess material, I felt Harry's hand on my jaw. He turned my face towards his, and he leaned down. When he kissed my lips, it was gentle and short.

He murmured a question. "Is it alright, baby?" 

I knew if I even commented on the slightest discomfort, this woman was on a full, deadly threat. I nodded my head and forced a smile. I looked down at the woman, who had been clearly looking at us. She was obviously suspicious, but did not ask any questions. She was terrified, and her shaking fingers confirmed it.

"I want any medication for pain that you suggest," Harry ordered the woman as she finished. 

"Y-yes. I'll be right back." 

"You've got a minute and I'm counting." 

She hurried out, and when she was out of sight, I hit Harry's chest. He rolled his eyes and looked at me. "Stop it." 

"If you want something, you don't regard anyone else until you've got it. If you don't live by that, you'll be a failure. Because everyone else will," he stated smoothly. "And I fucking hate waiting." 

"Still. Gives you no right," I persisted. 

He was shocking me with his affection. He leaned forward and spoke against the skin of my jaw. "The safety was on, baby," he rasped.

"Hmm, either you're drugged or you've been possessed. Which one is it?" I sighed when he pecked my jaw with those soft, plump lips.

He hummed back and huskily whispered, "Both."

The woman returned with a bottle of medicine. Harry didn't let her leave until he had read the container and confirmed that it was the right medication. He didn't even thank her, but I had. Before we left, I whispered, "Thank you."

Like that would have made a difference. Harry had scared her out of her wits. Back outside, Harry went into the trunk and pulled out a duffle bag. I sent him a questionable look that he left unanswered. He only ordered me to get into the car.

Driving through the city for hours with Harry was different this time than the first time. While he was leaned back, one hand on the steering wheel, and the other entwined with mine. Our fingers latched and I couldn't get rid of the pinkness in my cheeks because of this. God, he was confusing, but when he treated me like this, I could not complain. 

"Where are we going?" I asked him. 

"We're staying in a hotel for a couple of hours until I figure out a way back to Italy, where your father's hidden office is still back there. In the files, there has to be some kind of lead. Zayn, Liam, and I agreed to meet in Italy if we couldn't pull off squeezing information out of Grogan or Louis," Harry explained to me.

I nodded slowly. "What do you think it is that I know...but I can't remember?" 

"It's a riddle. Louis makes these things up on the spot. It's a hint, but I don't expect to follow it, because he's misleading thirty nine times out of forty. So don't worry about it, Dollface," he assured me quietly. 

Seriously what has gotten in to this man. He should be furious, pissed. Throwing shit around and hitting things. No...he's acting like he's got everything under control. He's so calm, just like he was back there in the gala, even when Louis said things that I personally thought would tick him off. Like he knows something, but I rather not ask anymore questions because the way he's acting right now, makes it better for the both of us. 

We pulled up in front of a small building. Harry grabbed the duffle bag from the back seat and got out, not wasting any time. I followed, now used to the way he does things. Following him inside, he went to the front desk. 

In a few seconds, we were told, "I'm sorry sir, you need reservations. Without a name, I can't really let you have a room. We're booked."

I looked down at his desk, and then up to the wall. While Harry was getting ready to argue, I saw that the man sells post cards. Interrupting Harry's next threat, I asked the man, "Can I see those post cards?" 

His blue eyes watched me before he shrugged. "Eh, yeah sure." 

The minute he turned around and walked to the back door, I silently scrambled and grabbed the paper of list of reservations. Harry stood beside me, hand in his pocket when he was ready to shoot, but as he watched me he realized what I was doing. 

I read off a name that was not crossed out by a pen and then locked it in. Placing the paper back just as he turned, I examined the post card he handed me before I spoke to Harry. 

"What do you think about this postcard, Robert?" My eyes locked with his. He stared at me for a brief moment. 

"They're awful," he snickered, playing along. 

Gasping, I smacked his chest. "Robert Cardinals, don't be rude!" I scolded. 

The man behind the counter widened his eyes. "Oh wait, you're Mr. Cardinals?" 

"Yes, and an idiot at that, too," I laughed, and I swore the way Harry smacked my ass again so roughly, I was going to have a bruise. I flinched and continued to smile, grasping Harry's hand and squeezing the hell out of it. 

"Alright," the man laughed. "Sorry for the misunderstanding, Mr. Cardinals. Here are your keys. Room thirty four is on the third floor," he smiled at us politely. 

"Thank you," I gushed. "And the post cards are lovely. I --" 

"Let's go, baby," Harry demanded impatiently, an awful attempt to laugh. He squeezed my ass again while we walked up the stairs, and I pushed at his chest with a chuckle.

"That was incredibly cunning," he commented when he shut the door behind him.

The room was clean and smelt of cologne. A couch, dresser, a single king bed, and a door that most likely led to a bathroom. I sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, grinning to myself. 

"I learned the trick when I was eight," I told him while he placed the duffle bag on the couch, moving his head side to side to stretch out. "I didn't think it would work, but anything to get you to stop from threatening people." 

Harry grunted while he moved around his shoulder. He says, "You think I'm good with people? You should know very well I'm not." 

I didn't answer him, figuring what was the point since he surely isn't wrong. The cooling damp spot of blood on my dress was uncomfortable, so I decided to change out of it. I stood up and turned away from Harry, asking, "Can you unzip me?" 

He didn't answer me, but a few seconds later I felt his hands undoing the zip. I slid it off my shoulders, now more than aware that my lack of a bra wasn't much of a good idea. Instant heat warmed my flesh as I slid out of it. Behind me, there was silence, and I wondered what he was thinking. 

This was just like in that crappy motel a while back. I didn't know if he was staring or not, so I was in fear and embarrassment the entire time. This time I was just nervous. Being more than half naked in his presence brought me memories of that one evening on the desk chair, on his lap with his jeans at his ankles. 

I went to move, but a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. I was pulled against his clothed chest, timidly standing there as his fingers brushed away my hair to one side of my face. For the second time tonight my heart was beating in my ears. His breath fanned against my neck when he dipped his head down and whispered, "This may sound a bit aggressive..." 

He spun me around with no effort, my bare chest against his black button up. His pale green eyes, without a doubt, gazing into mine with nothing I could name. 

"But I've never been more tempted to taste, and kiss, and bite a pair of lips as I have yours," he rasped lowly, nose nudging against mine. I inhaled deeply as he continued. "And may I be beheaded for saying so, but I highly doubt you don't want to kiss me, too."

My breath hitched right before our lips met. I sighed almost in relief, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer, if possible, to my vulnerably bare body. His moved sensually, deepening the touch of our mouths with dominance. I could only hope my knees wouldn't give up as roamed my back, fingertips at the band of my underwear. 

With every kiss, I couldn't help but start to think about him, not just of his touch or his lips, but him in general. What I'd give for him to be just a little bit more emotional. To share something sensitive with me. To give me the reason for which I'd admit I'm falling in love with him. 

In a intake for breath, I whispered, "Harry, I need to admit to you something, but I beg of you, please don't get upset." His eyes never left mine. Not a word passed his lips. The same furrowed eyebrows, closed lips. Nothing about it was different. 

I shakily exhaled and said, "When you said that no one cared about you, I wanted to object, but I didn't have the nerve. I...I guess I do now...enough to say that I...that I do." It felt like word vomit. My throat was clogging up by the seconds. "I care about you," I stated firmly. 

For a moment he was silent. Not a single second of that moment did I not feel my heart nearly bursting. I was stunned out of my mind when he began to shake his head. "You don't," he murmured. "You can't." 

My eyebrows furrowed, and he lowly said, "I'm going to die one day, and you would have spent your time caring for someone who has little care for themselves." 

"I care about you," I repeated. "And nothing could change that. I'm sorry."  

"My life is nothing to yours, Catalina," he insisted, running both of his hands through his hair. I bent down and picked up my dress, holding it to my bare chest. "I can't let you care about me. Don't you fucking understand, damn it!" He raised his voice. 

"Stop, don't get upset," I tried to relax him. The stinging in my eyes didn't help a single thing. 

His clenched jaw and angry eyes faced me. He tugged at his hair. "You need to reconsider. Because caring for me is like a fucking ticking bomb. All you'll get by the end is a damn disaster." 

"I'm sorry," I sniffled. "But I can't help it." 

Harry shook his head again. "My profession killing people. I do it for your father, your damn blood. I've been nothing but cold to you, and how is that possible? How is that fucking possible?!" 

"Because I overlooked that!" I shouted, crying now. Pathetic. I tightened my grip around the dress covering my body. "I overlooked everything, and I just feel that way for you. I cannot help it, and no matter what you say, it isn't going to change. Even when there were times you didn't deserve my compassion." 

"I never did," he answered right away. "I never deserved your compassion, I never deserved your cooperation, and I never deserved to kiss you or touch you." 

"But I let you, and I don't regret it." 

What he did next, made more tears slip from my eyes. It shattered completely, shards falling to the floor. It was the mirror that Harry punched his fist into. He gripped the edge of the dresser, knuckles flushed white. There was silence. 

"I'm trying to do the right thing," he snapped suddenly. "For once in my fucking life. I'm trying to lead you away from me because I'm not good for you...when....when I want you with me." 

I walked to him, eyes trained on the bloody hand of his that he used to penetrate the glass. I leaned my head onto his strong, straining bicep. "I want you with me," I told him, repeating his last words. 

"It's hard for me, you have to understand," he began, calming. "I had one job, and I've never failed. No matter what, my job is to protect you. It will stay that way until you don't need me anymore." 

"Then you're going to be here a while," I told him, and he gazed down at me. 

"It's as if I wasn't meant to the right thing...ever. Here I am, warning you," he sighed. I wanted him to realize how much I care for him, if the number of times I've stated it tonight was not enough. I felt his hand on my waist, turning to face me. "I want to give in, baby. So much, I'm mentally losing it." 

"Then do it." I whispered. "I'm always going to need you anyway." 

note: o m f g. it is happening to-night

it is 2:48AM where I am and I have to get up in 3 hours. i s2g i'm san7

;))))))

ask me anything and I'll answer it next (steamy) update