28 rouges | L.S

3

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as harry opened his eyes, a bright light blinded him. he blinked a few times, trying to adjust his eyes to the new environment. he was laying on a comfortable couch, two men sitting near him.

one man he recognised. it was chalamet who he had been introduced to earlier by luke. how much earlier he couldn't tell. his head still hurt a lot so his ability to recall memories was a bit restricted.

"hello mr. styles." a soft voice greeted him. he turned his head to see another man sitting next to chalamet on an armchair. he had silver hair which somehow made him look older than he probably was. it suited him nonetheless, harry thought.

"where am i?" he asked. his voice came out slightly weak and he looked down embarrassed.

"you're in the headquarters of the nct mafia. do you remember what luke told you?" the man with the sliver hair replied.

"yeah, i'm in risk of getting assassinated and the mafia is protecting me." harry said. he rubbed his eyes and quietly snickered to himself 'not a sentence i would've thought i would ever say in my life.'

"that's correct. the stuff you got knocked out with hit you pretty hard so try to not move too much." silver head said with an assuring smile. harry hummed and leaned back so his head hit the back of the couch.

"by the way, my name is klyde garcia. nice to meet you, i'll check up on you in a few hours to see if you're okay." klyde said and stood up. he gave chalamet a curt nod before disappearing in one of the house's hallways.

"how are you feeling?" chalamet asked with a soft voice.

"my head hurts." harry grumbled, massaging his temples.

"do you want to have some water?" the tall male asked and harry nodded his head.

now that water had been mentioned he realised how much his throat was burning. what the hell did they use to knock him out? because it sure was strong as fuck.

chalamet returned quickly, a glass of water in his hand. harry took it gratefully and drowned it in one go. chalamet chuckled as he watched him.

"thank you." harry mumbled. chalamet smiled and said "you're welcome. if you want to you can call me timotheé or timmy."

"okay, timotheé or timmy." harry joked but, testing the sound of the word.

honestly when he looked at the older man he couldn't imagine him to be part of a violent mafia. it just wouldn't fit into his head, how the man could carry a gun and commit crimes as he was standing in front of him with a cute outfit. timmy was wearing pink baggy jeans, and a white shirt. it suited him well.

"are you really part of the mafia?" harry asked with big eyes. the other looked at him and smiled "yes, i am."

"i can't imagine that." harry stated.

"i get that a lot." timotheé giggled, the sound sounding so soft that again, harry had struggle understanding how a man like this could be in the mafia.

harry would have loved to ask by who else he heard this but he felt as he could maybe be going too far with that question so instead he asked "for how long was i gone?"