witness || h.s.|| ON HOLD

twenty-one || one night to play pretend

The song for this chapter is Holiest by Glass Animals :) Enjoy!

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But you're the holiest thing I know Yes, you're the holiest thing, holiest thing I know

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Harry

I couldn't believe what I had just done. Tate's face was still in my hands. Her soft, beautiful face.

I was the same person who had told the rest of the boys that it didn't matter how beautiful she was, she was just a mission and we all needed to stay focused and keep our hands off of her. What a fucking hypocrite I am.

Tate infuriated me half of the time. She was bold and defiant, something I didn't have to deal with often in my line of work. Most of the time people were shaking and crying around me, they never talked back to me or tried to put me in my place.

She was genuine and brutally honest, she didn't lie to me to make sure I didn't get pissed off, I think part of her hoped that she did piss me off.

She was gentle, innocent, and naive, a complete opposite of me.

   The bourbon in my system had betrayed me, and revealed thoughts to her that I had tried to hide even from myself. Like the fact that I had a random urge to protect her. I had noticed it for the first time when we were at the safe house. Hearing Will talk about her that way made my blood boil and I had no fucking idea why. And when I saw the fear in her eyes when Quinton's men showed up, when I saw her trembling body in that kitchen, it made my heart physically ache.

   I hadn't wanted to shelter or protect anything since the night my mother had died. Sure I looked out for Abel and the other guys, but my heart didn't ache for them as it did for Tate. I had known those guys for years, and I had known Tate for all of ten seconds before she completely flipped my world upside down without my consent or my knowledge of it even occurring.

   I had slept with my fair share of women, I had kissed them and touched them and fucked them, and not once did I ever feel a connection with any of them. None of them dared to get close to me either, I wouldn't let them. We had one thing in mind and one thing only, and I liked it that way.

    But Tate, she called me out on my bullshit. She spoke everything that was on her mind. She was smart, she seemed to read my moods better than the people I spent everyday with.

   I guess one of the other moments I knew I was fucked was when she tried to escape last night. When I broke the lock open to my room and my eyes caught hers, I saw how broken she looked in that moment. I saw how afraid of me she looked, and it made my heart twist around inside my chest. I hated it. I hated how she was so desperate to escape she didn't care if she broke her leg from the jump out of the window.  I hated how defeated she was when I caught her before she fell, how absolutely pitiful her voice sounded as I pulled her back inside. I hated seeing the tears streaming down her beautiful face, and she cried and told me that she knew no matter what happened, she would die.

And I hated how she thought that I would ever hurt her mother.

   It wasn't really until that night when she told me she knew that she was going to die, that I realized that I didn't want her to. I didn't want her to be killed by my hands, or anyone else's. I wanted her to be safe. I wished that she had never picked up my knife, I wished that she had never gotten involved with this. I wished she had never gotten involved with me.

  She was the holiest thing I knew, and if I wasn't careful, I was going to ruin her.

This was all my fault, not hers as I had said it was before I kissed her. I shouldn't have brought alcohol into this situation. If I hadn't had those drinks, I don't think I ever would have done this. I would have been able to go about my life, suppressing all my emotions as I had been, and completed this mission with no fuck ups.