i'm SO SORRY! BUT I'M BACK!

nineteen | keep all your feelings locked in the (closet)

"There's more than just punching and kicking to the training that's commenced down here," Harry says as he stands in front of me in his training clothes, "you need to learn more than what you know for core instincts."

We're training in a smaller, more separated area of the third floor. One that's close enough to the other equipment, but far enough for the experienced killers that were training at the same time as us.

"Examples?"

"Well for one, to shoot a gun, and not choke when your finger is on the trigger."

Oh.

"Another example?"

Harry makes his way to me, but catches me off guard when he wraps his arms around my neck and begins to squeeze. I gasp, thrashing in his hold as he begins to talk again.

"I'm choking you from behind, and you have no way out; what do you do?"

I grasp onto his arms, tapping then frantically as the struggle to breathe increases. Harry lets go of me in defeat, and I drop on the floor, breathing heavily.

"See what I mean? There's so much more to it."

"Well, it's not like there's nothing I know, obviously," I mumble, stretching my arms out and cracking my neck, "where do I start?"

"Combat I suppose," he says, wrapping his hands in gauze, "I'm sure I have enough experience to train you."

"How much?" I mock him, laughing quietly before a younger recruit passes me and answers that question for me.

"Five black belts in five different styles and the skills of a professional MMA fighter," the boy says smugly, "why? You don't know?"

And it occurs to me that probably everyone knows what Harry is all about. He's a kickass badass warrior, and I'm not even the slightest bit close to knowing him as he is. These people down here know him for who he is; not the Harry I met. So maybe, just this once, the kid is right.

"No," I reply, folding my arms, "I don't. Pardon me."

He rolls his eyes, walking away as Harry rolls his eyes right back at him,

"They're all trying to kiss up," he informs me before tapping my shoulder, "it's honestly disappointing. Come on. Don't pay attention. Look at me, and hit my hand whenever it comes up."

"What if I don't?"

"I'm pretty sure I get to punch you."

-

The training regime for this agency is intense, from a lack of words. Harry and I spent at least four hours in our little center, trying to catch me up on my skills for whenever I'd have to go out. I only get to catch a break now because of his own training session. When I pass Louis, he tells me I can go ahead and watch with him, so I decide to tag along instead of following my original plan; sleeping.

Sleep is something I'm losing more of than I want to. I'll lay down on my cot (it's the farthest thing from a bed), toss and turn for a good ten minutes, then stare at the ceiling until my head tilts to the side and I doze off every ten minutes. I'll also be visited by the hallucination of my deceased family in the middle of the night, scaring me awake.

I'll drag myself around, hoping something might pick me up from my mood, but nothing proves to help the lost cause that is my rotting soul. Zayn and I talk a lot, but it doesn't help. I still feel the same way I did before.

"Liam?"

I look up, Louis shaking my shoulder as he motions to the bench in front of me.

"Wanna sit?"

I nod mindlessly, sitting down and folding my arms. Louis sits beside me, folding his hands neatly as he looks over to me.

"You okay?"

"Just peachy," I mumble. I'm so tired of hearing that question; 'Are you okay?'. Oh yeah, I'm on Cloud 9 guys. Just waiting for my life to be taken from me and a crime lord out for my head to be captured.

"Sorry," he sighs, "you must be hearing that every day."

"Mhm..."

"Well look; you're lucky. A lot of things happen to our loved ones down here, and no one has been as lucky as you since Bailey."

"Bailey?" I ask, "Who's that?"

"It's a long story," Niall comes out of nowhere, causing Louis to practically jump out of his seat. Another man enters the room Harry it standing it, with two swords in his hand. Well well well, Harry's also a secret samurai soldier. Surprised? Not really, anymore.

"Tell me about it, please?" I ask, my eyes pinned on him as he bows to the man before him before taking the sword in his own hands.

"She was an agent here," Louis starts, "one of the best ones in fact."

"She recently went into retirement," Niall continues, "she was one of the best, even before Harry. So they let her leave early, let her move on to find the peace in her life she deserved."

"But why early? Why did she need peace?"

"Bailey had an intense case of PTSD," he answers for me, "it affected her performance in many more ways than one."

With that, Niall gets up and saunters away from where Louis and I sit watching Harry. We don't take our gaze off of him, but when he disappears, Louis simply shakes his head.

"Bailey is a tough topic for him...we don't talk about it much."

"Why?"

"I think you know."

We only watch Harry after that, not bothering to start any conversation. I fiddle with my hands as I watch him fight his trainer with all the intensity he could possibly muster. This is probably what he expects from me, since I could be thrown out at any moment.

No no Liam, don't jinx yourself.

Louis' phone buzzes wildly and he jumps, fishing it out of his pocket and looking at it closely. His eyes say one thing, but the words that leave his mouth ever so calmly express another.

"Liam..." he mutters, "do me a favor and get Harry out of the training room."

"Is something wrong...?"

Louis doesn't respond, only continuing to scroll through his phone anxiously. I shrug, getting up from my seat and walking over to the door that keeps Harry locked away from me.

"Harry?"

One clash of a sword later and he's looking up at me, sweat covering his body and face and his breath coming out in quick pants.

"Yeah?"

I regain focus quickly, "Louis wants to see you. I think it's important."

He nods, dropping his defense and following me out the room. Ignoring the instructor's firm glare, I just shut the door behind me. Some things (or people) aren't worth the extra investigation.

"Lou?" Harry calls his attention and Louis walks over to him in a huff.

"Harry," Louis mumbles quietly, as if I'm not meant to hear, swiping through his phone as the giant sword he's holding disappears before my own eyes, "you've been assigned to an OP..."

"What? I don't understand..." Harry comes up behind him, scrolling as well, "I'm already assigned to Operation Blackarm--"

"What's an OP?" I ask quietly but he says 'not now' so urgently I shut my mouth almost instantly.

"I guess they thought you could multitask?"

"Why would they do that though?" He rubs his forehead, "What is the operation anyway?"

"It's called Operation 'In The Closet'," Louis mutters, "It's a protection OP, not an assassination job."

"Fuck," Harry curses, "why do they have me on that?"

"Don't ask me," Louis shrugs, "The Princess of Kiribati...have you even heard of that place?"

"Apparently I'm going to be flying there tomorrow at 0400," I hear him grumble, "am I solo, or with a team?"

"...About that..."

I look over Louis' shoulder, reading the information on his phone, only to back up against the wall in surprise.

Oh my God.

-

"Why the hell is Liam going on an OP with me?!"

Harry is fuming, me standing behind him like the coward I am, per usual, as Director Axton sits in his chair casually, as if he deals with Harry at this point of his rage every day.

"We put him on an OP because he's training, isn't he?"

"His first day was today!" He shouts again. I want to reach out and ease him to a reasonable level of his temper, but I feel as if we're far from reasonable at this point.

"You're in no position to argue with me Styles," he warns, "I'm telling you, nothing is stopping me from sending him right back in the red room and punishing you if you fail to kill him the second time."

My eyes widen and my skin goes pale. 'The Red Room' is a trigger for all the anxiety I'm currently attempting to endure every day I spend here. It seems as if no one is letting the red Room go as quickly as Louis told me it would pass by.

"If you kill him, you lose me," he growls, "and that includes OPs."

"I'll do it," I mumble, wanting this argument to stop before it gets too serious, "I'll do the OP."

Harry turns in anguish, about to point his finger and shout, but all the fire in his eyes burns out as the click of a gun sounds.

"Touch him, embrace him, or try even the slightest to talk him out of it, and I will shoot the boy myself."

He falls silent, stepping in front of me slowly.

"Kill him, kill me."

"You're easily replaceable, Agent Styles."

"Then why am I still here?"

The two stare at each other angrily for what seems like years. Eventually, Director Axton lowers his gun and Harry's breathing slows from its rapid state.

"He's going on the OP."

"Fine."

Harry storms away, slamming the door shut behind him and leaving me in awestruck silence. The director places the gun in his drawer again, before looking right into my eyes.

"You'll do it?"

I nod timidly and he grins,

"You leave at 0400 tomorrow morning. Harry will prep you on the mission. Good luck."

-

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Harry asks quietly as we sit on the first floor balcony. The rose garden glows a vibrant red when lit by the moonlight, adding a slight increase in temperature to the mood of the conversation.

We had decided to make this place our little rendezvous spot. Harry had suggested finding more time to talk outside of the underground agency, and this balcony seems to be the only dose of real life that remains on the property. It's peaceful, serene, and the perfect place to sort through the tornado of our thoughts.

"I'm not," I whisper, "but if this is what they want, then I'll do it."

"You don't have to Liam--"

"I think I should comply anyway." I assure him soothingly, wrapping my hands around his shaking ones, "it would be better for us here if we don't argue with the boss."

"Liam, that's just what I do." He laughs quietly, "you can't just mess up my routine like that."

I smile, playing along just this once before moving to caress his cheek, keeping my other hand on his own.

"I'm gonna be okay, you know that, right?"

"You say it like you know you're not."

"Harry..."

"I spared you! Twice, Liam. After that, I'm not going to let your cause of death be 'killed in action'. You deserve so much more than that."

"Harry that's not your decision anyway," I whisper to him calmly, reaching up and running a hand through his thick loosely arranged hair. His lips rush to meet mine, and I fall back as he pins me to the concrete, his hands gripping the creases of my hips tightly.

"I don't want this for us..." he whispers against my lips as he pulls away from our tight kiss, "just this once, I want someone I care about out of the fight."

I breathe in and out heavily, fingers still tangled in his golden brown ringlets of curls. Suddenly Harry doesn't need an overbearingly dramatic background or a loud appearance to single himself out in my eyes. He does it all on his own, from the golden specks in his emerald green eyes to the way his presence simply glows. Even when the music's gone, a song still plays; and I dance along to every beat.

And then I realize; Harry isn't the one that doesn't deserve me, and I'm not the one that doesn't deserve him. Neither of us should have collided in the first place.

"We're so tragic Harry, we're like Romeo and Juliet. But you'd be Juliet."

"Why would it matter anyway? They both die in the end."

i'm literally writing as you read this; all my books are getting updates ASAP