HELP WANTED ¤ harrison osterfield [hiatus]

0.35

He just wanted to make sure she was safe. He didn't need the guilt of anything happening to her on his conscience. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

Because when Tom came knocking at his office door, with her in his arms, unconscious, he swore he felt his heart drop.

"Y/N. Fuck", he cursed. "Bring her to the couch." Harrison watched as his best friend laid her down, cheeks burning bright when he realised she was clad in just a blue towel that barely covered her. "Go, um, go let my driver know I won't be down for a while."

Tom nodded, and left him with a cheeky wink. Harrison dragged a hand through his hair, puffing his cheeks out.

He turned, and began searching through the duffel to his right, before yanking out a wrinkled marroon tee shirt that he'd bought a few sizes too big. Okay. I can do this. It's not like I've never seen a girl naked before. He gulped.

But oh, this was different. This was so much different. With those girls, he didn't care. With those girls, it was one night, one night he'd spend the rest of his days erasing with different nights and different girls.

As strange as it was, he didn't want that to happen with her. For some reason, he was drawn to her. He wanted to know her.

Harrison heaved out a sigh, and looked at her face, hands reaching for her towel. He pulled it away, keeping his eyea trained on the hairpin curve of her lips, and the spider web like pattern of her eyelashes.

He willed himself not to look down, not to see all of her soft skin, as he lifted her, a hand splayed on her bare lower back. Pulling the shirt gently over her head, he could finally breathe as the fabric was covering everything. All he could see was the smooth skin of her thighs, yet his cheeks were still the brightest shade of red imaginable.

"Hey, I told-you look like a fucking tomato." Harrison whipped around, hands behind his back as if he'd done something wrong. Tom was grinning, arms crossed.

"Shut the fuck up."

He held his arms up in the air. "I didn't say anything!"

Haz grumbled, and strided to the other side of the room, taking a seat behind the massive desk he had been working at before they'd arrived.

"What happened? I asked you...I asked you to keep an eye on her, Tom. To make sure nothing happened to her."
His blue eyes flickered from his best friend and Y/N, and he nearly smiled when she turned, nose twitching slightly in her sleep.

"She was heading upstairs after getting off of work, and I was going to hang out in the lobby. Just in case I saw someone. 'Turned my head for two fucking seconds. Some girl needed help, think her name was, ah, Bianca."

Tom ran a hand through his hair, and let out a huff. "By the time I got up there, they'd already broken in. Found her curled up in the corner..."

Harrison switched his gaze to her again, and this time he kept it on her.
His hands clenched into fists as Tom went on.

"She was scared to death. They didn't touch her, thank god. But she was real shaken up."

She looked so sweet like that, no harsh lines in her forehead like he'd seem before. Her face was relaxed.

"I tried to talk to her. She must've been in shock, though. She passed out."

Haz straightened up, glaring. "Did they take anything?"

Tom shook his head, and frowned. "No. They roughed up her house a bit, but nothing was missing."

"Then what the hell do they want with her?" The blue eyed spy's jaw clenched. "Tell me again. Word for word."

After his best friend had repeated it two more times, Haz resisted the urge to slam his hands down on the desk. Nothing. No missing clothes, or jewelry. "Go over it again."

"Harrison, this is the fourth time, I'm telling you-"

"And you might have missed something. So go. Over. It. Again."

The sound of a soft groan made him freeze, and he watched as Y/N opened her eyes, and he nearly melted at the soft look on her face.

How could anyone want to hurt her?