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BOOK ONE OF THE NOWHERE SERIES.
❝You don't have to say you love me. No one means it anyway,❞ Harr...
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
❝We were burning on the edge of something beautiful.❞
☀︎
[A/N: Another loooong chapter; enjoy!]
HARRY SHUT HIS laptop down. It had been seventeen hours since he'd taken a break. He was staring at the screen and taking notes of the various pictures that his cameras all over the city had caught.
Papers lay strewn about on the floor next to him. Maps, photos, written descriptions, lines, and dots littered the pages. Crumpled balls of discarded paper added to the mess. Endless coffee mugs stood on a small table indicating the little sleep Harry had received.
He'd been continuously tracking his father's digital images. The man just sprouted out from the grave and unless it was a zombie apocalypse taking place, Harry had to know what went wrong with his father's funeral.
He was slightly on edge ever since he saw his father's disgusting face flash in front of his screen. But the last straw fell a week ago. It was no ordinary mugger who had attacked Anna. The winding snake on the dagger could only symbolize his father's antics.
Harry simply was not going to lose someone he cared about because of that swine and his poor excuse of a heart. Not again.
He blew air into his palms and rubbed his hands over his face. He slapped himself lightly, waking up from his drowsiness. It didn't work though. Working through the night was never his forte.
Heck, he never even stayed up late before his final exams to study. Any time after midnight was unholy for him and it immediately led to a drastic drop in his academic performance.
The door to the hidden room creaked open and Harry swiftly shut his laptop down, leaning back in his revolving chair. "Mark?" he asked, closing his eyes. "If you aren't here with coffee, you are not welcome."
"Not even if I come bearing cookies and hot chocolate?" Harry gripped his chair tightly. That voice. He could recognize that light ring in her voice even if he was underwater.
"Come in," he said, still laying back. He didn't move a muscle but his senses picked up the sounds of her movements.
He heard the clink of cutlery against the wood of the table. He peeked one eye open. "Is that chocochip?"
Anna smiled at him, picking a cookie from the tray. "Why don't you eat one and find out?" She handed the cookie to him and he sat up, taking it.
He gingerly bit on the cookie, the loud crunch satisfying to the core. "Mhmm, I might die from the richness," Harry mumbled, stuffing the rest of it and reaching out for another one. His eyes fluttered closed as he chewed away.
