Intrepid » n.h. au

Chapter 23

"No, you can't just- ugh, you don't understand," Harry sighs, his head falling in his hands as I look over the paper sheet he'd tried explaining his plan on again. And again, I can't do it without frowning at the control freak sitting opposite of me, or the yellow-ish piece of paper that's basically drowning in his scribbles.

"You're right, I really don't," I say in a flat tone, throwing the paper in his direction as I lift my empty cup in a waitress's direction, signaling I want a refill.

"Look," He starts again, looking beyond focused as he stares at his little work of art. "If you call the police and report him out of the blue, without him doing anything in particular- he's going to know I have something to do with it, okay? Even if I've nothing with it, he's going to decide that I do and he's going to give me a piece of his mind. Like that time when you reported he dragged Freya out of your party?"

Harry raises his refilled cup of coffee to his lips, as I raise my brows at him. I didn't know he knew about that? "He broke into my apartment while I was at school, trashed it and took all of the money I saved for rent."

He takes another gulp of his coffee, while I continue staring at him; that should sound more disturbing, but his casual face assures me that there's nothing to be worried about. "Had to work 105 hours a week in the bakery, for a month straight. I missed a lot of school and sleep, but at least I could afford a roof over my head."

I blink at him a few times; I swear I should be more aghast about his apartment, but for some reason I find being awake for 105 hours for four weeks a lot more horrifying. "Um... I'm sorry?"

"What for?" He looks up at me with a small smirk, identical to his sister's. God, I need to see her again.

"You know... it's basically my fault that you got robbed in the first place, so..." I shift in my seat, a little uncomfortable; saying that outloud makes me feel more guilty than just being aware of it. "I'm sorry."

"No problem," Harry tells me in a cool tone, looking over the sheet in his hand again. "I finished on Sunday, and I didn't go to school on Monday either. Slept through the entire day."

I grimace as he chuckles; I am dying to know if there's anything that makes this guy's hands shake with fear, or anger. Except for Craig, of course. I've already made a mental note not to let him near knives when we're talking about his sister's not-exactly-boyfriend. "Okay," I say slowly, deciding that I'm forgiven. Kind of. I still feel the need to make up for his home. "So... we're going with your plan either way?"

Harry sighs as he brings his cup to his lips, reminding me of my coffee too. "That's the only way anything will work. And he has anger issues, so there's no way we'll fail."

I gulp, feeling my heart rate increase just the slightest as I watch Harry's serene face under the dim light of the diner. Why did I not know Craig has anger issues? How could he just leave that out? "Alright," I reply slowly, waiting for any sort of reaction from him but not getting anything. "So now I just have to find a friend that's gonna call the police while I do the work so-"

"What?" Harry cuts me off, his eyes wide as he stares at me in disbelief. Of all the things that we're eye-widening worthy, this is where he does it? "Are you insane? I can't let you do the hard work, you'll get-"

"And what, you expect me to get one of my mates in danger?" I interrupt him, a little frustrated that he hadn't realized I would be doing the 'hard work'. "Trust me, none of them care about me enough to get themselves in such a mess."

Harry blinks at that, seeming shocked by what I'd just told him, and sitting back in the red bench of our booth. "She's gonna kill me if something happens to you, you know that?" He gives me a cautious look, "I'm not kidding, she wouldn't have a problem breaking my limbs if you weren't in perfect shape as you are now."