tiny & vicious || h.s ✔️

~19

Song: Good Guy by ZAYN

Harry's POV

Blood. Blood everywhere. Head pounding. Blood thinning. Eyes dilating.

That's all I remember. My heart racing. My eyes closing. Then everything went black.

I pushed myself up. A red substance clouded my vision.

Where am I?

My legs spread out onto a comfy material. A bed. My eyes stayed closed. My arms felt stiff and unused. How long was I passed out? What happened? My eyelids felt heavy. I desperately ached to move them. To gauge where I was. My leg hit something. Dead weight. My eyes hesitantly flashed open. Darkness. My once silky locks were tarnished in blood and grit. My hands lifted to rub my flustered face. I let out a loud groan. I attempted to sit up but was suddenly pulled back. What the fuck. My leg continued to hit something next to me.

I racked my brain to decipher who it was. My eyes widened.

Angelina.

I flipped the white covers over. But it wasn't her. My hands moved to shake the unconscious man. Who was he? "Sir." I mumbled. "Wake up, hello" I started to shake the body vigorously. He needed to wake up. He needed to give me answers. The man's head rolled to the side and I shivered. Something was wrong with him. I pressed my head against his dormant chest.

No breaths. No air. No movement.

I shifted the man onto his back. A sticky substance poured out of his mouth. My face contorted in disgust at the gross odour he emitted. A familiar odour I knew. I reached around in a panic. For light. Something. A lamp was smashed to my right, but it vaguely worked. Flicking the light on. I turned to my left. My eyes widened and my stomach stirred.

Bodies.

Everywhere.

I stumbled out of bed. What the fuck. Who were they?

"They wanted to fuck her." Her voice flashed through my mind. My head pounded.

I examined the faces of the men.

"They wanted to take her away from you"

They had gun shot wounds. All to the head.

"Kill them."

I stumbled back in a shock. Realty dawned on me.

I killed them.

Four bodies. Four kills. Four murders.

I sat on the edge of the bed, shaking my head franticly. I didn't do this. I didn't kill them. How could I? They just looked at her. Her. Aria. My queen. Where was she? My hands reached into my pocket. No phone. My eyes searched the room. No landline. I moved quickly, tearing open the curtains. Sun filtered into the room, blinding me. I turned away and covered my eyes with a groan. The light illuminated the dead figures, causing me to feel sick to my stomach.

It was morning. Someone would have to come in by now. But where was I. I peered across the street. The surroundings were familiar, but where was I.

Let's retrace.

Italy. The Rudolfa Mafia. Home with my family. Cuddling in bed with my baby. Pressing a kiss to Blair's head. Angelina.

That made me stop. The devil woman. She had to have been the one to do this. Her fake smiles. Brushing her disgusting nails against my chest. Whispering into my ear. Coaxing me on. Telling me the men were bad. That they deserved it. Dragging me up to this room. Straddling me. Kissing me with her red stained lips. Cackling in my ear. Did we fuck? No, I couldn't have.

At this thought, tears started to pour down my face profusely. I would never betray my queen. I would never lay a hand on another woman like that. Aria was all I wanted. She was all I needed. I would never go against my wife, my everything. But something was different last night. Something attracted me to her. To the devil woman in heels. To the evil smiles and blood-stained lips. Something made me want her like no other.

My eyes never stopped leaking as I thought. My queen, my baby. I betrayed her. I betrayed our vows. I betrayed the one woman who always loved me unconditionally.

And for what?

For a stupid bitch who liked to flash her fake tits and take what wasn't hers.

As time passed on, I didn't move from my position. I don't know how many hours I sat and cried. The sun rose higher into the sky and I continued to weep. I continued to peer at the four men I murdered in cold blood. I continued to stay in my blood-stained clothing.

But even the clothes smelt like her.

I tore them off me with a swipe. I didn't want to smell like her.

I was livid. I angrily tore them apart, beating them into the mattress like no tomorrow. I pushed the dead body off the bed and threw the mattress. I smashed the lamp and lurched glass paintings across the room. I tore the place upside down.

And for what?

For the small piece of sanity, I had left, telling me to rid of any evidence that I made. Any piece of décor that witnessed my sin. Any small insect or being that saw me fuck a woman who wasn't my wife.

And in the end, I collapsed. My knees buckled beneath me and I fell to the blood-stained floor.

I wept for my wife who I had betrayed. I wept for my child. I wept for my family. I wept for the dead corpses in the room who were killed for nothing. I wept for the moment I had damaged my family. I wept for the stupid bitch who had tricked me into fucking her.

But most of all, I wept for myself. For my own greed. My greed which drove me to desiring two women last night. Two women instead of the one I was promised to. How could I face her after this? How I could I even start to explain how I tore our marriage apart in a single night. How could I swear on my life that I would never cheat again? I couldn't. It was over. My marriage was over. The best 9 years of my life were over.

And for what?

With my head in my hands I cried. It was noon now and no one had found me. But I didn't even have the strength to stand and admit my actions. Just to die in my lonesome.

But a small shred of hope awoke me.

A small strand of dignity I had left.

And it all started with his voice.

"Harry?"