Compelled | h.s. AU

Smooth Criminal

Trigger Warning: blood, extreme violence, small talk about depression!! please don't read if you aren't comfortable <3

No perspective.

Harry soaks in the warmth of Manhattans early sunrise seeping through the open windows. The warmness was only from two things; one being normal and the other spark being foreign.

He slowly peeks his eyes open to see New York's sunrise. Normal. Rubbing his morning eyes with the back of his fingers, Harry letting the blur in his vision dissipate until he notices the locks of black hair draping over his shoulder.

Victoria and Harry's body heat feeding off each other. Victoria was snuggled into his chest, his long-sleeve dress shirt oversizing her still frame. Harry unintentionally had his heavy arm draped over her waist with his dressed leg between her two naked ones. Foreign.

Harry shuffles off the couch, turning his head back when he hears a faint groan leave those pink sneaky lips. He finds himself wanting to smile at how beautiful and innocent Victoria looked when sleeping.

Shes far from innocent

Harry never stays the night or even plans to be there once he reaches his climax.

This time was different

He felt a weird and unexplainable connection towards her, not even him himself knew why. Maybe it was because they were so alike and just didn't know it yet. Maybe it was because they were so different and didn't know yet.

The feeling was mutual.

Victoria wanted Harry to stay with her but her attachment issues couldn't ask such a thing.

No feelings. No love.

Just two broken souls who purposely hide the glue.

Of course neither of them knew about each other's traumatic issues. But in just that one night that was destined to be a one night stand....

Harry and Victoria felt more alive than they ever have.

You may be alive but are you living?

Harry stilled his hands on the belt he was looping back up as a sudden bang echoed throughout Victoria's penthouse. Quickly he examined the premises while his feet stayed glued to the carpet beneath him.

Another bang.

"What the fuck?" Harry mouthed to himself without making a sound, walking towards the silver elevator.

The sound leaked closer to Harry but he couldn't put his finger on the weird noise. He waited for the lift until the arrival bell ring and opened up into the silent elevator.

Until his head went anything but silent.

Harry's vision peered over the white set of stairs to see three men hiding in black ski masks.

All with guns.

That's when he finally noticed the once grey couch becoming a dark jet black color. A bleeding body laid motionless in the pool of blood with bullets straight in the thighs. Their chest still rose up and down indicating they weren't dead— however on the verge.

Harry ran to the middle of the room while dodging flying bullets; seeing Victoria turn pale as her cold blood ran down her legs.

She smiled.

When Harry passed her vision, leaning down to cup her pallid face, Victoria smiled.

She never feared death. Death feared her.