Azure Saviour | dark h.s.

seventeen | 17

A/N: Soz, but I have a few...bare with me please! So here we go:

       1 - A.S. is ranked #81 in AU! Oh my gosh!
       2 - A.S. has reached 3K reads! Also...oh my gosh!
       3 - I've been unexpectedly travelling and my life is way crazy hectic now, so sorry for the late update! I hope that you're not bothered with me for updating weirdly lately. I love posting new chapters, but adulting can sometimes be such a bother.
       4 - PLEASE remember that Harry's not a doctor in this book. I fooled you (hehe) in chapter one and two about y'all thinking H was a doctor, when in reality it was Jamie. It'll take time for H's past to truly unfold.
       5 - I love you all so much and thank you for absolutely everything you're doing in supporting me by reading my book! 
       6 - I've watched that gif a million times over. I mean, damn.
       7 - I'm sure you're bored with me already, so Imma just shut up and let you read now. I hope you enjoy! 

live·li·hood

Harry.

The weeks have passed by, things in his gang have becoming much more aggressive around us. The handling of the clients had practically become lethal if they didn't cooperate. Thankfully I wasn't on any specific list of physically dealing with them. The memory of when I placed my gun on my nightstand after that one night — a bullet short — made me uncomfortable. The dreams I've had since then, kept assuring me that my soul was still humane; and that I would never be okay with fully going through shooting someone with a direct target. 

My aim was perfect and there has never been one time that I faulted with it. There was a reason for that. A reason as to how precise I could be. A reason to why my hand was incredibly steady, even though motion was in action. 

As for Client 47 the other week, let's just say that he was two minutes late on his payoff, and his funeral was this past Tuesday. He is the one to inherit every single penny that 47 owned. When they make a deal, the client's will has to be changed, in case of any changes, or if there wasn't a payoff. With 47, he gets his money, along with the millions more that man owned — his family, left with absolutely nothing.

Other than that, there has never been a moment when I haven't thought about C. As much as I hated that, it made me feel better that there was someone else to think about. That my thoughts were occupied by another person. It wasn't just any person though, it was C.

I hadn't dreamt about her since that first time. It was a one and only moment that never occurred again. I wasn't sure if I wanted it to happen again. To be honest, I was afraid of what it would be about. Something I wish I possessed was the ability to control my own dreams. That would be the one thing that I would probably have to get the blank visuals and nightmares to go away. I hated dreaming about nothing; but I didn't mind the terrorizing half-conscious sight. It reminded me of my past and I wished I could experience it again; but it was also a reminder of everything that I did. Each day, tormenting me with the mistake I'd done, which caused my life to be the way that it is.

I took a sip of my drink as I sat at the table, waiting for someone to do or say something. My eyes flickered between each of my mates. None of them seemed invested in the game they were playing. I'd sat with them, but decided not to play. Once my focus settled on my Irish friend, our eyes locked on one another, and we silently agreed to leave. They took their own money, disregarding the fact that the purpose of the game to win other people's successes. They weren't ever serious about it, but it was just something we got a kick out of every once in a while. I don't want to lie and say that it was more serious when we first started, but after time went on, we stopped really bothering with it. We all left and drove down to the bar we enjoyed to spend our free time — or their free time.