Fists and Knives (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 3

"It’s just for a few weeks," I explained.  Clark sat calmly on the couch in the living room and listened to me talk about my day as I quickly and excitedly threw shirts, jeans, underwear, bras, and makeup into a bag.  When he returned home that afternoon, I immediately told him about the gig I was offered and began to pack before he could complain about his own day.  "But I get weekends off, so I’ll be back here then."

I emerged from my room with my bags and placed them by the door.  From the kitchen, I grabbed my favorite knives and other utensils and pans I loved.  Arnold said they would provide everything for me, but I still liked to be comfortable with my own tools.

"And you said this guy bought you a laptop too?" Clark asked.

I poked my head out of the kitchen and nodded.  ”And this shirt.  He spilled coffee all over my other one.”  I pulled at the simple gray fabric.  It was a plain shirt with cuffed short sleeves and the softest cotton fabric I had ever felt.  I picked it out from the cheaper side of the store, not wanting it to appear like I was abusing the fact that Arnold was replacing some of my wardrobe.

Clark’s eyebrows were knitted as he stared inattentively at the muted television, mulling over the fact that I was going to be gone during the week.  He and I had never actually been apart for longer than two days.  Normally, being away from Clark would be something that would make me upset and not want to leave… but I was strangely okay with just packing up and taking off for the week.  Like I told him, I’ll get to spend weekends with him… we’ll make it work out… right? 

Finally, Clark looked sideways at me and rubbed his eye.  ”How do you know he’s not just some kind of sugar daddy?”

I growled.  ”Can’t you just be happy for me? I finally got a freakin’ good paying job and now you don’t want me to take it.  He just wants me to cook, not have sex with him.” I slammed a kitchen drawer beside me shut.   “And you know what?  If he insists on buying me a laptop too, who am I to turn that down?”

Clark sighed and walked into the kitchen.  He took my knives out of my hands cautiously (he knew I hated when people touched my knives) and placed them in my bag for me by the door.  He returned to me and sighed again, pulling at my new shirt before drawing me into a hug and twisting my brown waves into his fingers. This was the first time this week that we had hugged.

"We just don’t know these guys and I’m just worried that you’ll be living alone in a random house… I couldn’t imagine what I would do if something happened to my girl."

I chuckled into Clark’s chest and finally wrapped my arms around his waist too.  ”I’ve got my knives and my temper. I’ll be fine.”

Clark squeezed me more tightly and laughed.  “Actually, you’re probably right.  I guess I should relax.”

With a single, simple kiss, Clark sent me on my way.  Before I exited the house, he didn’t hesitate to complain about how he won’t have anyone to cook for him for a week.  Ugh.  Maybe this break away from him would be good for me.

When I stepped out of the crappy apartment, a black car with tinted windows caught my attention.  Arnold told me one would be sent to pick me up, but I still waited for a moment before the driver’s side door flew open and a man in a black suit stepped out. “Kennedy?”

I nodded. The man grabbed my bags from me and loaded them in the trunk. I panicked for a moment before remembering that my best knife was stowed away carefully in my purse. I could still stab someone if I needed to.

The suited man opened the back door for me and waited.  I frowned. “Is the front seat taken?”

Beneath his dark sunglasses, I saw his eyes widen just the slightest. “Do you wish to sit in the front?”