KILLSHOT // [H.S]

030. FRIENDS

030. FRIENDS

"You call that clean?" Harry heard a shrill voice ask. "This is how you do your job? Fucking hell. You're not even smart enough to use a goddamn mop!"

From his spot in the doorway, Harry noticed the way Rory tensed at the sound of Amber's voice. And when the blonde shoved the mop back in her hands, he knew she was a few seconds away from hitting Amber over the head with it.

Checking that the coast was clear and the power-hungry Assistant Manager had disappeared out of the bar, Harry emerged from his hiding spot.

"I don't know what she's on about," he said, leaning against the bar. "It looks pretty damn clean in here to me." Harry noticed how she held back her tears, and his smile vanished. "What is it?" he asked softly, walking over to her side. "Are you okay, Bambi?"

Rory glanced to the side. "What are you doing here?" she asked, dunking the mop into the bucket.

"You didn't come outside, so I wanted to make sure you were okay." Harry grabbed hold of her arm, stopping her from resuming her cleaning. "Rory, this place is spotless. You don't need to listen to her."

"Yes, I do."

"Why?"

"Because if I don't, she'll fire me."

"Who cares?"

Rory pulled her arm out from his grasp. "I do," she replied shortly. "I can't lose this job."

"Why not? Are you seriously trying to tell me another bar isn't going to hire you, Rory? You bring in a fuck ton of money. You could get a job anywhere."

"You don't get it."

"I had you as an employee, Rory. Of course, I get it."

"No, you don't!" she yelled, angrily dunking the mop into the soapy water, causing it to splash out of the bucket and onto the floor. "You're a guy, so you don't fucking get it because you'll never be in my position." She slammed the mop against the floor. "This is the first job I've had where I said no to my boss trying to fuck me, and he actually listened. That never happens. Either you get forced into it and hope to god that after a hundred showers, you wash their grimy smell off of you, or you manage to get away. And most of the time, you don't get away. So it's easy for you to say, oh, go get another job, Rory! But it's not that simple, and it's sure as hell not that fucking easy."

"Rory, I didn't-"

"And don't start with the working at your place bullshit. Alright?" she snapped. "I'm not going back there, and I can't handle that conversation again tonight."

Harry fell silent, watching from his spot as she unnecessarily got back to mopping the floors. It didn't last long - him standing and staying out of the way - before he was off to the supply closet and searching for an item.

Joining her side, he dunked his mop into the bucket and got to work.

Rory looked over at him. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked, "I'm cleaning an already incredibly clean floor."

"You don't have to help."

"I know I don't. But you missed a spot," he teased. "Careful now, Bambi. Don't get all distracted by my handsome looks and charming personality all of a sudden."

To everyone's surprise, Harry didn't complain once for the rest of the night. Not when Rory decided to mop the floors for a third time, wipe down every surface countless times or clean every hidden corner. Instead of uttering a complaint or commenting on how pointless it was, he was right by her side, helping every step of the way.