Underground

08

"Expect anything from anyone
The devil was once an angel"

May12th, 2022

I've always been scared of the unknown, I feel that might come from how many things have gone unknown in my past and continue to do.

My father, my mother, their deaths and same with Clara's disappearance. There's so many unanswered questions I may never know the answer to.

The unknown irritates and frightens me so when I left last night, without a second answer to my question.

"This isn't just a publishing business is it?"

All I got was his deflective answer and I let myself leave with just that, tugging him off of me and leaving.

My pride was intact when doing this but now that I sit at the desk I was at less than 12 hours ago with a man on the other side holding a gun in his pants I can't think of anything but just that.

And it won't leave my head, none of it, I wish I stopped caring about how I looked if I asked for more answers because I'm about ready to barge into Harry's office and list them all off like a Christmas list.

You see these events in movies, this isn't something that just happened. That also has been a constant thought, last night when my eyes couldn't shut but only stare at my ceiling.

Everything that happened last night, the peeping through the door, the gun to a man's temple and Harry's whole personality in general.

None of this is things that a average human with basic morals is use to.

I lived a small life in the suburbs of New York, I didn't have these sporadic moments. I didn't get to. 

I lived with horses while the craziness of the city was a half an hour drive.

So, adapting to this hurricane of a situation is sort of like a literal fish out of water.

I can't trick my mind into thinking any of this is the norm because it's not, it is completely and definitely a out of body moment that is going to take more then a self help book to figure it out.

A knock at my door takes me out of the hiatus in my own head as I say a simple 'come in' under my breath.

'No you do it, your the one who fucked us-' I hear a muffled Irish accent only to be cut off by an English one.

"Fine! Pussy."

"You little fuck wit. Do not-" the door opens, by what I see to be ringed fingers and it seems Niall's protests were cut off by Harry's actions. 

"Can I help you to?" I ask as they walk in, almost seeming like they just got asked to the principal's office.

I'm the principal and they look like they just got caught throwing wet paper towels on the ceiling.

Niall closes the door and follows Harry to one of the cushioned chairs in front of my desk.

Once they both are seated Niall looks at Harry, wide eyes and points his head to me like he can't say his directions verbally.

Harry groans, taking something out of his pocket, I flinch for a moment, nearly reaching into my pocket to grab my pepper spray.

He notices, almost wincing at my action, knowing what I thought he was grabbing until he pulls a envelope waving it around.

I take a deep breath as he slides it over, my name written in beautiful cursive.

Oh god, is this them terminating Me?