WEAK // (Harry Styles)

6

CHAPTER 6

*three years ago*

HARRY

She looks dangerous.

With a dark lip, and a black dress, she is the spitting image of power. I just hope she'll use it right.

We met a few days ago, but it has been a never-ending chase. She is right in front of me, leaning over the bathroom sink to put on another layer of lipstick, and I can touch her if I want. But it still feels like I'm running after her.

She looks at me through the reflection in the mirror, making me hold my breath. Her hair--black as ever--falls in waves in front of the sides of her face, and I can't really figure out the expression radiating out of her eyes. It's either wild or... wicked.

She turns around, sitting on the counter beside the sink. She runs her fingers through her hair, smiling with a bite of her bottom lip. I clench my hands around the seat of the stool not to lose control. But even if I did, I doubt I'd dare to touch her saying so, or an inviting glance.

I stand up, and her smile widens at once.

"Is it ok if I... kiss you?" I say, a huge lump forming in my throat right after the words leave my lips. I've never been this nervous around a girl before. I've always been in control, and it was normal for them to want me more than I wanted them. But this time, it isn't the case at all. I fear she could leave me at any moment, without thinking twice.

She reacts with a scoff, proceeding to hook her index fingers into the belt loops of my jeans, pulling me towards her. My hipbones press against her inner thighs, and she kisses me. Hard.

I feel lighter than air, but also heavier than lead when we touch. Her skin is softer than anything I've felt before, but behind them are tough and firm muscles, which make an impressive force when pulling me close.

She suddenly pushes me away, the palm of her right-hand firm on my chest. She pushes me back onto the stool and turns to the mirror again. I hear myself breathe unsteadily, watching her with awe, wanting more even though she just pushed me away.

"Don't ask to kiss me, Harry. Just do it," she says. When her lips are fully coated, she hops off the counter and walks out of the room, leaving me a mess.

Oh, sweetness... I wouldn't dare.

When I walk through the door, she is already dressed. Her high-heeled black leather boots on, and a dark red coat. She throws the keys at me after we walk out the door, and they nearly fall out of my hands.

"You drive. We're in a hurry, so drive fast."

We are on the road in a matter of minutes. She has rolled the window down, and I fight the urge to rip my eyes from the road to stare at her. I can see her hair swing towards me with the stream of wind crashing through the window at the corner of my eye. I bet she is smiling as well.

Her cold hand starts stroking my right cheek, and I lean against it. The road is turning bumpy, and I can't help but wonder where we're going. She just typed an address into my phone, and I've just been following directions. The buildings have turned low and shabby.

"We're nearly there, darling. You just stay in the car, alright?"

The suggestion makes me frown. Why would I need to stay in the car? Maybe I should ask her. This doesn't sound quite right-

As soon as I stop the car at the destination and turn to her, I forget whatever it was I was worried about. She leans over in her seat, putting her hands on my neck. I lose all strength once our lips touch, and I melt into a puddle. When she releases me from her grip, I regain senses again.

"Stay here," she demands and exits the car. I hear myself exhale softly, and through the wing mirror on the right side, I see myself smile with my lips parted. It's been a long time since I smiled this big.

She disappears behind a brown-red, worn down building, and I fight the urge to follow her. This area doesn't look quite safe, and now she is all alone. Why won't she let me follow along? I could protect her that way.

I anxiously sit there for ten long minutes, biting my nails, my muscles clenching over and over. I stare at the dark atmosphere through the window, and I see a dark figure, a man, walk towards the building, his hands in his pockets.

I squint heavily too get a clearer image of him. He stops for a second, looking in every direction. The lamp post beside him lights up his face, and I see him. He is a short, wide man with a red beard. My heart jumps through my chest once I see him pull a gun out of the pocket of his hoodie, and disappear behind the building as well.

Without thinking, I open the car door and run in his direction. My muscles are still weak, so it takes longer than usual for me to run the distance. Once I reach the building, I peek beside the wall, and I see her.

She is holding a bag--black, small and heavy--in one hand, and a cooling box in her other hand. In front of her are a couple of tall men, with tattoos and piercings in weird places. The man I saw in the car is approaching her from behind, gun in hand. My muscles clench, my chipped nails digging into the rough wall.

"Watch out!" I shout at the top of my lungs, and she turns around in an instant. When she sees the man, she ducks quick--dodging the bullet that is sent her way. Instead, it pierces into one of the men in front of her, and he collapses to the ground. She lunges at the red-bearded man, knocking him over as multiple gunshots are fired into the air.

Her hands curl into hard, bulky fists and she proceeds to punch him in the face. She grabs the gun from him, and uses it to shoot the other tattooed man before he reaches her. The bearded man is beneath her, his legs thrashing around. She folds her arm, and clashes her elbow hard into his face, and he stops moving.

I am completely frozen. I want to run to her--to help her. But It doesn't seem like she needs any help at all.

She climbs off the man, and grabs the box and the bag, walking my way. She moves slowly, her hips popping side to side, and she smiles, completely unbothered. She walks past me, and inhales. In a breathy voice, she says:

"That was fun."

Once I don't follow her, she halts. She walks backward a couple of steps and grabs my hand, putting the bag on top of the box.

"Come on, slowpoke. I want to go home now."

My wide, terror-stricken eyes lock on her as she drags me back to the car. She opens the door for me, and pushes me inside. She then gets in the drivers seat, starting the car.

"What... the fuck," I whisper once she closes the door. She pauses, rolling her eyes. The box and bag are placed in the backseat, and she turns to me.

"What's wrong now?"

"Whats wrong?! You just killed three people!" I shout at her, tears brewing my eyes. She bobs her head to the side, putting her hand on my shoulder.

"Don't be so dramatic. I didn't kill that lumpy man, I just broke his nose. And I only killed one of them," she says, shaking her head with a reassuring smile. Her touch melts away the knots my muscles, and I exhale deeply.

"But... why? What were you doing? What is that?" I ask, pointing to the back seat, and she turns to the front, starting to drive.

"Don't worry about that babe... Those guys deserved it, they were trying to rip me off. Jokes on them," she says, laughing towards the end as we drive into the city again. I look at her, my eyes wide, my jaw dropped. She notices my anguish, and she reaches for the bottle of water beside her.

"Drink something and calm down. You're looking a little pale," she says. And so I do.

She frowns when she notices a few spots of blood on her elbow, and she reaches towards me. I rub the blood off and she thanks me, giving a stroke to my cheek. Her hair starts moving in beat with the wind when she opens the window, and my hands clench onto the edge of the seat, wondering;

Harry...

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?