Leader Of The Mafia {h.s}

028

Bree Tyler

I guess I had fallen asleep in the basement. Because when I woke up my head was rested on the cold and uncomfortable flooring.

I looked around me, there was a note? It was handwritten in a black ink pen on a napkin, I took it in my hands and tried the best of my abilities to read what it said.

"Come up to my bedroom." The note read, of course Harry had written it.

I contemplated at first with a scoff and a shake to my head, but before I could decide if I was going to follow through or not, my body had already taken me up the spiral staircase.

I shrugged, since I was already up on the top floor I guess my decision was final. I walked into Harry's room and saw him sprawled out on the floor with a joint held in his lips, it was unlit. He was shirtless, black sweatpants hugged his hips, I could see his v-line, but the rest below that was covered.

"Well, well, well." He smirked.

"What do you want, Styles?" I asked him teasingly, he had told me his full name a few days ago.

"Don't call me that." He huffed, patting the spot next to him for me to come over and lay by him.

Once again, I gave in.

I laid next to him on the tiled floor, rolling my eyes slightly. I was still angry with him, but in this world we can either choose to forget or to forgive, right?

I guess it's a fine line between the two.

"Okay, what is it you really want?" I asked him, just eager to know why he wrote a note on a silly napkin for me to come up here with him in his bedroom.

"Just w-wanted to talk." He slurred, speaking of slurring, I just realized I could smell vodka on him.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" I asked, although the answer was floating through the air that radiated him.

"Maybe..." he stretched out.

"Of course you are." I scoffed.

"Whats that supposed to mean?" He pretended to be offended.

"Nothing." I sighed, "it means nothing."

I looked over at him, realizing that from time to time he's a real piece of shit, and a killer; also some other things I most likely didn't know about. But other than that, he seemed pretty okay. He just seemed like a guy, unproblematically lying down on the floor of his bedroom with an unlit joint in his lips. But knowing Harry, he'll probably start to become aggressive soon. Maybe it was the alcohol that calmed him down.

"You know.." he started.

This can't be good.

"It's been just you and me for four months now." He finished.

"No, Niall has came over." I truthfully argued his statement.

"I forgot about that," he realized, "but for the most part, it's been just the two of us."

Okay? What exactly was he getting at?

"Whats your point?" I asked, not meaning to come off as aggressive as I sounded.

"Shit." He muttered almost as if he started a conversation he couldn't finish, "I don't know my point. Just thought I would tell you that." He corrected.

"Something deep inside me tells me that you're hiding something." I stated.

"Well, of course I'm hiding something. Who would I be if I wasn't?" He argued back.