fourteen | (tear) me into pieces

I simply watch as Harry readies himself for the dinner. Despite my increasing frustration about the situation, I can't deny that he is a physically beautiful person. It's somewhat strange to be thinking about it now, at such a distressful time, but at this point, I can't help it. Watching his back muscles flex as he moves swiftly around his room, watching him fix his long wispy hair, they're everyday things that are simply more vibrant on him.

"Liam," his voice sparks my attention, and I look to him nervously, "why aren't you getting dressed?"

Right, I have to accompany him. How could I forget in such a short period of time? Then again, why does anything happen in such a short period of time...?

"Li."

The nickname brings me back. Harry is kneeling before me, his eyes overflowing with concern as his thumb rests just below my chin. Instinctively, I lean in to kiss him. His lips nudge against mine, putting my beating heart at ease, as it always does.

"Get dressed," he whispers, "or... take a shower with me."

"Really?" I glare at him, but he's serious.

"Showers always calm me down before these," he explains, "I wasn't going to go in, but I'll go with you."

"Harry--"

"Please," he begs, "and least let me massage the knots out of your back. No doubt you have them, being carried around like you have been."

I have to agree eventually, being that Harry is extremely persistent. He just won't take no for an answer. With that, I start to take my clothes off, heading to his bathroom and ignoring him. I can tell he wants my attention, but I just can't bring myself to give it to him.

"Are you still mad at me?" He asks, and what kind of fucking question is that?

"You're kidding? Right?" i laugh, "You have to be kidding."

"I--"

"Of course I'm mad! Look where I am! Look what I've been through today! If you never came up to me--"

"You would've found your way down here anyway," Harry fights me, turning on the water and stepping under, "Liam, the mission was to protect you."

"You didn't do a good job of that..." I mutter, "you just used me."

"Hey." Harry pulls me into the shower while I still have my sweatpants on, and I squeal as the hot water soaks me.

"I have done a lot of shitty things, yes, but I did not use you."

"How do I know that?" I shoot back at him, "it's not like you're an honest person anyway!"

"If I used you," Harry says sternly, "I would have shot you in the red room."

My body goes rigid when he says it. It's true...if he were to not have a connection with me, he could have shot me instead of sparing me. I swear he can see my heart beginning to pound out of control again as he leans down, resting his head on my shoulder, burying it into the crook of my neck. I feel him tremble, his wet hair tickling my skin as he squeezes me tight.

"I just need you Liam..."

And by now I don't care that I'm still wearing sweatpants, because Harry needs me for the first time. I'm not the one desperately hanging on my last string this time.

-

"Nice to see you guys looking sharp."

I look at the two men before me; Louis and Niall. Louis is dressed in a casual button up with rolled up jeans, which surprises me. The rest of us are dressed so nicely.

"This is Louis' version of 'dressing up'." Harry snorts, rolling his eyes, "I swear, he gets away with it every year."

"Because I look nice in everything," Louis rolls his eyes as well, giving him a pretty solid punch, "but you two look nice, per usual."

"Yeah," Niall taps his chin sarcastically, "because guess who abides to the dress code?"

"Shush," Harry snickers as Louis glares playfully at the both of them.

"You two meet us upstairs?" He asks as he and Niall go the other way.

"Yeah," Harry replies, and they both wave before walking away. If they're headed for the elevator, then where are we going?

"Okay, I want to show you something."

Harry answers my question, taking my hand and walking us to a stairwell. Why couldn't we just take the goddamn elevator? I'm in a suit; and one that isn't mine.

"I promise it won't take long," Harry says as we open the door together, "I just wanted to show you a prettier side of the base."

We're outside, so I assume we're on the first floor. Harry ugs my hand, leading me to the balcony, and my eyes go somewhat wide at the sight before me. It's an entire meadow of roses.

"We managed to find a way to make them live longer," he explains, "I just wanted to share it with you."

"Why?"

"I always come up here when things don't feel...right. Then I remember the roses withstand everything; therefore I can."

"Why share it with me then?"

"Because you can come up here," he says, motioning to the garden, "I know it's a lot, and you'll need space. Even from me sometimes."

"Thank you..." I say, "we should uh, go to the dinner."

"Yeah," he says, "I'll bring you to the table, but then I have to go."

"Why?" I ask, following him into the closed building on the first floor. There's no people inside, as the closing hours posted said five o'clock for Saturdays. Wait; it's Saturday?

"They do this intro thing, for the agents that have been serving and done the most." Harry presses the '2' and waits for the elevator to come, "I just happen to be one of them."

"Who else?"

"Louis and Niall," Harry shrugs, "who else? There's a reason why our living quarters are separate. There's ranks of honored agents and assassins, but being that we do both the spy work and the killing, we get extra recognition for taking the challenge."

"Oh," I say as we step inside. The door shuts and Harry sighs, leaning on the door with a sigh.

"I don't know if Director Axton is going to come up to us today," he says quickly, "but if he does, don't worry about it, yeah?"

"Oh yeah," I say sarcastically, "no big deal--"

"It isn't, unless you make it one."

"Okay okay," I sigh, breathing in and out before taking Harry's hand and giving it a tight squeeze, "Just promise you'll come right back when you're done?"

"I wouldn't leave you hanging," he smiles, stepping over to press a smooth kiss to my lips. Harry disappears onto the pavilion floor as soon as we step off, me following him anxiously. He gestures to the sign, which is marked with a PV1. I see many other people walking into the pavilion enters nice, and when I see a family of four, my heart cracks.

"We sit towards the front," Harry says, as if none of this is happening. These families are about to forget they gave birth to a child. How can he just idly sit here as if it's not going on?

"Right," I say, "Harry, we don't have to see these people's memories get erased, right?"

"They have a screening," He makes up his face, "but we can sneak out early if you want to."

"Please," I beg, and he nods.

"Then we will," He kisses my forehead swiftly, pointing to the table, "we're sitting at table number two. Louis and Niall and a few other younger top agents will be sitting there as well."

"More?" I ask, "But I thought--"

"Age, and rank, love." He smiles, "I'll see you later."

He spins around, walking away and leaving me with my thoughts. But the only thought that really seems to be poking at me is Harry's open affection for me. I thought he'd be more...reserved in public when he would be with me. But he isn't, and it reassures me; for now.

I find table two, sitting down reluctantly as I read off the names on the line-up paper.

Harry Styles (+1 Liam Payne)

Niall Horan

Louis Tomlinson

Bailey Rothbard

Elijah Thomas

Beckham Reynolds

They must have added my name last minute, but that's not who I'm paying attention to. My eyes are are on 'Bailey Rothbard'. Could she be the B?

It's possible, being that she's the only B on the list, but why is her name crossed out? Is she not coming?

My questions are beginning to eat me alive. It's becoming more of a concern to me to figure out everything that's going on. Whoever Death Match is, they know who I am. And I don't have code names and weapons and secret hiding spots to run from them and protect the people I love. So yes, knowing Harry won't hurt my family, but them knowing me could hurt them instead.

"So, you're Liam Payne, I assume?"

I turn around, frightened to meet whoever is greeting me. My eyes meet an elderly man's, his sparkling with a brightness I can't exactly describe. I'm not sure as to whether it's welcoming or threatening, but I take the greeting with open arms.

"Hello," I say awkwardly, "I'm Liam."

"Hi," the man smiles, "I'm Director Axton."

And how did I not recognize him from the outside of the red room? The same facial features are popping out to me as they did when I was tied to the chair. I can't make this a big deal, because it's not. It really isn't; I trust Harry, to an extent. If nothing bad will come out of this, it shall stay that way.

"Nice to meet you," I continue, watching as he gives a firm nod before heading over to sit at the table in front of me. I sit back in my seat, sighing in relief once he's gone. There's no more room for mistakes, and I'll undoubtedly make one.

The lights begin to dim, and the talking that gives the room the light mood dispenses, a silence falling over everyone as they begin to take their seats. The ceremony must be starting.

Just as a man is a full white suit appears on the long stage, two boys arrive at my table, sitting across from me. They must be Elijah and Beckham, being that I don't recognize their faces. They sit hastily, probably afraid of being tardy for such an important event, as Harry has drawn it out for me.

"Hello, guests and inductees," the man with the earpiece says with a smile, "it's so nice to see all your gorgeous faces here today..."

He must be a charmer; the one person that distracts them from cruelty of the ritual.

Unless no one here finds this cruel?

"Today, we're here to celebrate the soon-to-be drafted agents, previous agents, and past agents. Today is a day to celebrate all generations, all of those who have given their lives in service of or organization."

Everyone claps, and I take it that I should to, forcing my hands together until silence continues.

"There are many many agents here tonight that deserve personal recognition for their services, but tonight, we have chosen one to represent them all. Along with him will stand his partners, his teammates, the people he's put the most trust in over his past six years of service."

Six years? I do the math in head quickly, remembering that Harry is twenty-two. Once the number comes out, I cover my mouth in horror.

Harry was sixteen?

"Our agent of the year everyone, Harry Styles. Along with Louis Tomlinson, and Niall Horan."

The three of them appear from the sides of the stage, hands behind their backs as they move towards their appointed positions.

Harry steps in front of the microphone, standing proudly as he looks at the crowd. He's practically glowing, the lights giving him a brightness that couldn't be brought out of him in a normal situation.

He scans the eyes staring back at him, until our eyes lock. His face contorts, a smile soon rising over his evident nerves.

The clapping dies down again, and he clears his throat before his hearty captivating voice echoes throughout the room.

"Hello," Harry smiles, looking to Niall and Louis with a small smile before continuing, "it's very nice to see you all here today. Familiar faces, new faces, I'm equally grateful to make your acquaintance."

They all smile at him, but I keep my straight face. They don't know him like I do. There's more than his cheeky remarks and his doe eyes.

"I, uh," he grins down at the ground, "I don't have much time to speak, being that we have so many new inductees to erm, induct, but I would like to say something to all of our new agents."

He sighs, tapping his cheek before he continues.

"I want you all to know what you're dedicating yourselves to," he says, "that you need to understand the meaning of sacrifice before you vow to serve here for the next nine years of your life. You need to understand how to let go of those you love, and live in the single moment you're in. Not for the past, the lives that have been lost, the pain you've inflicted. Not for the future, the things that will happen, whether they be good or bad."

He turns, locking eyes with me again, before he ends his speech.

"You have to focus on the now. Keep your head focused on what's happening in front of you. Because if you miss something, you're gonna be dead before we can help you. Keep that in mind when you enter the EYAD tonight. Thank you."

Applause interrupts throughout the room as Harry reaches over to pull Niall and Louis in for a side hug before they depart from the stage. They all revert to the table that I'm currently sitting at, taking their assigned seats. Harry leans over to my surprise, placing his hand over mine mid-clap as he presses his lips to my cheekbone.

"Hey," he whispers, a small grin etched on his face as I block out the ceremony, tuning on him, "did you see--"

"Yeah," I sigh, moving my hands from his and rubbing them together, "yeah, but he wasn't that much of a bother, he just said hello and walked away."

"Oh, that's good then."

He doesn't stop looking at me when our exchange is complete. His green eyes praise my body with every second, and personally, it starts to get uncomfortable having his eyes on me this long.

"Take a picture," I whisper as the people around us begin their applause again, "it'll last much longer, I promise."

"It's too dark," he says, reaching over and turning my chin to face his endearing eyes, "no camera would be able to capture all your beautiful features."

And there he goes again, charming me all the way back into his cold dark heart. It's like with any word he says, I'll just crawl back to him. I can't let him have that satisfaction, and I'm handing it over like Girl Scout Cookies.

"Please don't charm me..." I whisper, "I'm trying to be mad at you."

"I don't see any more reasons to be upset with me," Harry argues, but I stop him with a wave of my hand.

"Just stop," I whisper, quite annoyed at this point, "we'll talk about this later."

"And when will that be?"

"Whenever the fuck I want it to be."

Harry nods, eyes a bit wide as he finally backs off of my shoulder. He stops looking and keeps to himself after that. I listen to the last words of Director Axton's address, who I know was probably watching Harry and I rudely whisper during his speech. I swear, the things Harry makes me do.

"Thank you," he finishes, "and good luck to all of you."

I clap along with the crowd this time, spotting the new inductees all standing in a unit. They announce that they'll be calling names and proceeding with the rituals. The first name sounds, and a boy walks up to the podium, holding his wrist out. He shakes Director Axton's hand with his left, as the man on the right takes out a pocket knife and slits his arm.

I breathe in sharply, holding my hand as the boy walks towards a man who takes a drop of the blood dripping off of his arm.

"A blood oath?" I whisper frantically to Harry, who is hopefully willing to answer my question.

"Yeah," he whispers back, not looking me directly in the eyes, "everyone has to do it. The scar stays until you leave."

"Really?" I ask, curious as to why I never noticed a long scar on Harry's arm, "Can I...?"

Harry nods, turning to me and holding his right arm out. I roll up the sleeve of his dress shirt, bracing myself for the worst. Believe it or not, there it was, staring me right in the face. A long scar from the tip of his wrist almost reaching his elbow.

"We cover it up when on missions," he explains quietly, "that's why you've never seen it before."

"Oh..." I respond quietly, looking back as about a thousand other sixteen year olds are about to get their arms slit to join an undercover assassin facility. No big deal, really. The fact that a bunch of kids that are supposed to be in their second year of high school are here, preparing to risk their lives for this agency is beyond me.

Harry is sensing my discomfort, turning to me every five seconds as the ceremony goes on.

"Wanna get out of here once it ends?" he asks me quietly, and I nod almost instantly, wanting to return to my white walled room. It's times like these that I miss what I've become accustomed (or, slightly accustomed to in this case).

"Okay," He nods, "It'll be over soon."

-

Soon ends up being an hour later. Considering they have to go through a thousand kids, I was partially expecting this. But by the time the ceremony comes to a close, I'm pale from the amount of Crimson blood I've seen dripping down many arms. It's a grueling process and I want to run away and vomit before it happens in public.

"If all the families could please, say your goodbyes," Director Axton says very lucidly. There isn't a single layer of sugar on his sentence.

I see groups huddle with each other, and I know it's the end of my emotional train's smooth riding. This is going to be too overwhelming, and I hope Harry will pick up on this.

"Can we go?" I beg quietly, "Do you need to be here anymore?"

"I do," he frowns, "to talk to the delegates and officials and what not. But I'll walk you down to your room?"

I take whatever I can get. I'd rather be out of here than be near Harry and inside. So he takes up our jackets, grasping my hand tightly as we exit the pavilion. PV1 happens to be the biggest of the eight, which makes sense to have such a big event there.

Once we're in the empty hallway, I breathe out a sigh of relief. Not being in that fumy room is like a blast of oxygen surging through my lungs.

"Floor four..." Harry mumbles incoherently, looking at the numbers and pressing the floor. The elevator door dings instantly, being that everyone that lives and works in here is in PV1. We both step inside, waiting as the door shuts quickly.

"I'm sorry that you had to see that." his voice frightens me, but I calm myself down hastily, "It's kinda heavy at first glance. I know it was for me."

"You were sixteen when they initiated you?" I ask, my heart beating loud enough for probably the both of us to hear.

"We were all sixteen," Harry says calmly, "there are some exceptions, but for the most part, sixteen is initiation age."

"How do people get picked?"

"It's a whole system," he raises his hands to express himself, "like, an algorithm. There's over seven billion people in the world. Every day, one person is born, and one person dies. This algorithm, it...it knows what can happen. It adjusts to everything that happens. It calculates who has the potential to be an EYAD agent."

"So are you supposed to have like, good grades or something?"

"There have been straight F students that became top agents. It's amazing, how though a person can be statistically terrible, they can still succeed here."

The door opens after a loud ding, and he holds his hand out again, and I take it willingly. The warmth radiating from his skin puts me at ease, as physical contact always does. Knowing that someone else it there with me, or around me, in my space, is something that relaxes me.

"Why do you openly show affection for me?" I ask, eyeing our locked hands, "didn't you get in trouble for this?"

"I don't think they're going to let me go," he says, "I'm too valuable right now. Maybe after, but for right now, no. Which means I have time to prove my right to stay, and not kill you. Plus, I don't give a fuck who sees me showing you how I feel about you."

"Harry, are you sure you can do that? Meaning, convince them?"

"I have to at least try."

We both arrive at the familiar doorway, Harry reaching up to tap in the code to my room with his free hand. The door opens quickly and I step inside, happy to be..."home".

"You sure you'll be okay?"

I nod, looking at the bed and desperately wanting to drown in the sheets that cover it. He sighs, nodding as he leans against the doorway, watching me step inside.

"You can go you know," I smirk, turning back to him, "I think I'm good from here."

"Can I at least get a kiss?" He asks, the stupid smile that always wins me over making it's return. I bite my lip, nodding in defeat as Harry takes my arm, pulling me into his embrace as he kisses me with a bit more passion than I expected to receive.

"Well thanks..." I mutter as he pulls away, smirking.

"Sorry...I just get so wrapped up in your lips."

"Bye Harry."

"Bye," he chuckles, and I roll my eyes, watching as he leaves and shuts the door behind him. Will I ever be able to get over this long haired idiot?

"Wait! Liam!"

Harry starts banging on my door and I roll my eyes. Will this long haired idiot ever leave?!

"Harry," I groan, opening the door for him, "what do you want now?"

"I have to give you something."

I expect a necklace or a ring, or for him to drop on one knee and propose to me right now. Because everything that could have happened between us, has happened. Might as well just slap a marriage on it and get on with the process.

But instead of a shiny diamond ring, Harry hands me something that resembles a pen, so much that there's no way it does anything that could match what a real pen does.

"I'm not supposed to give you this," He whispers, "but it's just in case I'm ever separated from you. As long as you're near me, I'll protect you. But in the case that I'm not there, I need you to keep this on you."

"What is it?"

"Here," he says, pointing to the top, "press this, you're enveloped in a bubble. Poisonous gas is released from the pen and knocks out anyone within a ten mile radius of you. The pen will then reveal your location; it has a tracker embedded in it. This is a life or death when you use this, understand?"

"I understand."

"Good," he sighs, leaning over and kissing my forehead, "sleep tight."

He finally dashes away after that, the door shutting behind him as I bite my lip anxiously, wondering just when I'll have to use this pen.

-

"Liam?"

I look around the dark room, not being able to recognize any faces or figures. More importantly, I don't feel Harry near me. By now, his presence is more than evident to me when he's around. I know for a fact, that he isn't here.

"Liam, we know you know who Edward Harrison is."

"What...what do you want to know?" I stammer, sensing the dried tears stains on my face.

"Where is he? Where is his family? Where is the EYAD located?"

"I'm not talking until I can talk to him." I say, thrashing in my restraints.

"Well, unless you want to talk to his corpse."

I shoot up in my small bed, breath heavy as it comes out as harsh exaggerations. I hear the code on my door being tampered with and I bolt to the back of my bed like wildfire, practically petrified out of my mind.

What was that dream? Was I predicting the future to come? Why why why is this all happening in my head now when everything outside of my train of thought is just as fucked up?

"Liam?!"

The door opens and Harry steps through. His presence scares me at first glance, and my primary instinct is to reach for the life or death pen.

"No!" He shouts, grabbing the pen from my trembling clutches and kicking the door shut with his foot, "Don't use the pen! You're okay, you're not in a life or death situation."

"What are you doing here?" I stammer, "I swear your room is like 15 miles away from here--"

"Louis heard you thrashing and screaming in your room when he was walking from his friend's room," he whispers, "he woke me up to check on you, I--are you okay?"

"I..." I sigh, taking a few deep breaths and wiping my stray tears, "I just had a nightmare, that's all. It's nothing much other than that."

"You were screaming really loud Liam," he continues, "you grabbed the pen when you saw me. What was that dream about?"

Shaky breath in...

Shaky breath out...

"There...t-there was no light. I was kidnapped, and there were these men interrogating me, and I--I kept looking for you in the darkness, praying you were there somewhere, but you weren't. I couldn't feel your presence there with me and...then they said you were d-dead. They said you were dead Harry you died!"

"Hey hey," he soothes my frightened expressions, seating himself next to me as he rests a hand on the nape of my neck, "hey...it's okay. You're okay Li, yeah?"

"But--bu--"

"You have nothing to worry about." He tries to implant the idea in my brain, "I'm right here. I'm not dead, and you're not in danger."

"But I could be--"

"And you won't be, as long as I'm here."

"But you weren't--"

"Yeah I know," he sighs, pulling my head into his chest, "but that was a dream. Nothing like that will ever happen, because I won't let it happen."

I let myself cry this time around, planning to release the emotional stress from this entire escapade. I need it right now, and whether Harry thinks I'm weak or not is the least of my problems.

"Come on," he whispers, "it's three in the morning. Let's get some sleep, yes?"

I nod submissively, laying back down in the bed as Harry rests beside me, wrapping his arms across my mid-back as I bury my head in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

"I'm here..." he whispers quietly again, "I'm here, okay?"

"Okay..." I say, my voice small, and my nod is even smaller.

He stays with me the entire night, giving me the occasional squeeze, just to serve as a reminder. And for just a second, it feels like we never left Spain. That we were still there, when our affection for each other was at its peak. But as the night goes on, and I begin to doze off, it dawns on me that we'll never leave Spain.

Spain is a part of us.