fourteen

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            Three weeks that went on, training in hand-to-hand combat and defense. Practicing what I had learned, learning new things, being tested; at one point, he even jumped out at me from behind a wall when I was walking into the building. In the midst of screaming at the top of my lungs, I swung a left hook at his jaw. Not one bit did I feel bad when he had to hold ice on it for the rest of the night.

But not yet had I spoken to anyone, officially, at the company about my position. I had assumed that they would review me, and my progress, with Harry before making their decision.

And over the few weeks, where we spent a lot of time together, he told me more about himself, and I to him about myself.

A child that always wanted to wear a cape and save lives ended up being a person in a position to end them. He had called it tragic, said he hated what he had become. But I didn't think that was right.

I had asked what role he played in the entire organization. Weeding out liars is what he did, being 'the best human lie detector in Europe'. I didn't doubt it.

Harry Styles was beautiful. Every thing he said, my attention was hooked. His deep voice was mesmerizing. I found beauty in the way he viewed himself, the way he acted.

Intimidation with every blink of his rich green eyes, confidence with each stride of his long legs; the human I was graced with was so strong. I always wondered if he knew how important he was, and how amazing he was. He never thought much of himself, and I hated that. Because Harry Styles was truly beautiful.

"We're here, Till," his voice broke my deep thought train. I blinked, looking at the building ahead, the same building I had seen every single day for nearly a month now.

Harry walked ahead of me, per usual, not speaking to anyone. I, on the other hand, had become friendly with a few people, the regulars at the gym. So, as we walked towards the room I had come accustomed to, I smiled and nodded to those I saw.

But when we reached our room, he continued to walk. My eyebrows creased.

"Where are we going?" I said as I slowed my pace.

"You'll see,"

And I did. When we reached our destination, I realized what today was. It would be the day I learned to shoot a gun.

The room had no windows and the concrete floor practically sparkled. There were sectioned off areas, separated by what I could only assume was bulletproof glass. It was an average shooting range.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," And he walked out of the room. Once he was gone, I slowly walked towards a bench at the back of the room. Harry returned before I was even able to finish.

Two handguns were clasped in his fingers. In his opposite hand was a box of bullets, and hanging over his right forearm was headphones and clear glasses.

"You ready for this?" he asked, half-grinning.

"Hell no,"

He just winked.

It took nearly an hour to go through all the gun protocol. All of the safety precautions right down to how I shoot the gun. Harry thoroughly taught me everything I needed to know before even putting a gun in his own hand. It took another half an hour for him to feel content by showing me how he shot.

Then, finally, he placed a gun in my hand. Bullets were loaded and unloaded, then loaded again at least five times, per Harry's request, before he taught me the stance.

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