Cross My Heart // Harry Styles

8

GWEN'S POV:

I gargled with as much mouthwash as I could in the shower, scrubbing my body at the same time. I only had about 2 minutes to clean up and be fresh for the next client. We had shower caps for this, so our hair wasn't wet. Unless we had to wash...mess out of our hair...

I had one minute to brush my teeth.

And Gus always watched it all.

He tossed me new lingerie, and they were red tonight, because he couldn't find any pink ones I guess. The bra was about 2 cup sizes too big. These were the ginger haired girl's, obviously. She had the biggest boobs. It didn't even cover me at all. It just sagged over me, and I struggled to keep it on as Gus walked me through the hall back to my room.

I sat on the bed, and noticed that Gus forgot to clean out the trash bowl. He knew that sometimes we vomited, so he usually cleaned out the bowl between clients. But he forgot tonight.

I sat for what seemed like forever. Not that I minded. The longer I waited, the less time for s.ex.

Finally, I could hear Gus and someone walking down the hall.

I wasn't supposed to talk unless asked to, so I didn't bother informing Gus about the bowl of vomit and sem.en and condom wrappers.

I didn't want to know who would be next tonight, so I kept my head down at my lap. I just couldn't get myself to look. I was in denial that I had to have more s.ex after the strangler. If Gus or the boss had a heart at all, they'd know what trauma we'd just been through after him, and leave the rest of our night free after one of us girls had him as a client.

But they didn't have hearts. Not at all.

I heard the next client walk in, and stop just through the door.

Then I heard the door close and lock.

And then I heard sniffing. I looked up, and there stood Harry.

HARRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes!! The perfect break after the strangler!

My eyes got wide, and my mouth fell open with excitement and just plain relief.

But what was he doing? He was sniffing the air, with a crinkled forehead.

He finally looked at me, "Why does it smell like vomit in here?"

I felt my face get red, and I was instantly embarrassed, holding the sheet as tight as I could now.

"The last client.....he makes me throw up usually, because he......", I stopped explaining, feeling gross and humiliated and ashamed.

"He what?" Harry asked, as he rushed over to the bed, taking a glance in the bowl, swallowing with a horrid look on his face, then looking at me with concern in his eyes.

I stood up and walked the bowl to the furthest corner of the room, and came back, still struggling to keep the way too big, red lacy material covering my breasts.

Harry watched me as I came back and practically hid under the sheets as I sat.

"What did he do to make you vomit, Gwen?" Harry asked again.

"We call him the strangler..." I told Harry what he wanted to know. Which meant I basically had to tell him what my entire past hour was like, in detail. I had sort of told him about the strangler last night, but not very much. Just a quick mention, when explaining some of my other regular clients.

His eyes glistened more and more in the dim lamp lit room as I told him my recent experience, and finally, I saw a tear spill over the edge of his eye. He gulped, and let out a shaky breath, as if he was crying inside, but holding it in.