𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞 | 𝐃𝐌

THREE

ꜱᴘᴏᴛɪꜰʏ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʙɪᴏ

♱
D A V I N A

Harrington led me to his office, the old man prowling like he had all the time in the world, and I hate to say it but he definitely did not. Outside his office was a sort of waiting room with chairs against the wall, and I noticed dead flowers decorating the table in the center—very welcoming.

"Sir," a voice called from behind us and Harrington turned his chin over his hunched shoulder to see who was calling after him, "sir. Sir. It's an emergency."

"What is it, Hades?" Harrington questioned and I switched my eyes between the old man and the skinny breathless man coming to a quick halt in front of us.

Hades gave me one look and then said, "Am I interrupting?"

"Yes," Harrington gritted, "So make haste, boy."

Hades were nowhere close to being a boy, maybe mid-thirties but I guess compared to Harrington's age, that is a boy. Or maybe Harrington is just an arse. No, he definitely is an arse.

"Yes—sorry sir—apologies," Hades uttered, nervously, "Malfoy has been found."

Harrington groaned, rubbing his wrinkly forehead with his frail hands, "Bring him in," he ordered Hades and the man scurried away. Then he turned to me and said, "My apologies, Miss Arden but this will have to wait. Take a seat and I'll be as quick as I can."

I shrugged my shoulders carelessly, because, unlike Mr Harrington, I did have all the time in this boring world. I spun on my hill and then walked over to a chair and plopped in it, picking up one of the dead flowers on my way. It was a rose and I imagined it would have once looked beautiful.

Harrington went into his office and left the door open. I looked around the seating area and took in all the old decorations—It was like it hadn't been redecorated since the 1700s. I loved and hated it all at the same time. The darkness to it was relaxing almost and I knew the demon called Alekzander Harrington did too.

I looked down at my dead rose and intertwined it between my fingertips, bringing it to my nose and smelling it. And when I looked up, I caught eyes with a tall platinum-haired boy, walking with a police officer, his hands in front of him and in handcuffs. The boy grinned, so menacingly that I raised my chin, intrigued.

He looked away and was shoved into Harrington's office. By the looks of things, this Malfoy boy gets into trouble often and by that smug smile, he doesn't care about getting caught either. The door was slammed shut and I looked away, relaxing into this uncomfortable chair and resting my feet on the table in front of me.

As I waited, boredom consumed me and all I could hear was Harrington's muffled yelling as I picked off the petals of the dead rose. One by one until the floor beneath me was decorated with petals.

┈ ♱ ┈

The door opened and lazily I averted my eyes toward it. The Malfoy boy stormed out with no smug smile and those devious eyes didn't look at me once—I almost felt disappointed. Almost. My eyes followed him, watching his figure storm away. I wondered if his platinum-white hair was natural or if he had to dye it every week.

"Miss Arden—" Harrington's voice pulled my eyes back to the doorway and saw him standing in it, "—where were we?"

Harrington turned and walked back into his office and I took it as an invitation to follow him inside. I wasn't sure how I felt about being alone in a room with this man. I closed the door behind me, assuming I had to and Harrington didn't say anything about it. The office was larger than I expected it to be. A grand desk in the centre atop an old circular rug and behind the desk was his chair, which he now sat in. Large, floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, the type you'd see in a really old castle.