OUR BELOVED ASSASSIN // t.s daughter ((1))

9

The sunlight shines through window and brights up the room, to alert the residents that it's already morning and it's time to wake up. The curtains mildly slaps Harry and Niall, two boys who sleep by the window, when the hard morning breeze blows, chilling them and the rest to the bones. Harry groans, slapping the curtains back, unaware that it's a fabric not a hand like he thought it is. While Niall continues to sleep without bothering the light that heating up his skin or the curtains that slapping his beautiful sleep, Harry frowns deep in his slumber.

"Haish." Harry parries the curtain. But the curtain didn't take the note, slapping him even harder. "What the-" the boy almost yells, wanting to let his anger out. However, when he sees no one as soon as he opens his eyes, his eyes wander around confusingly.

Just then, he hears a soft giggle from a young girl.

"What's the matter, Harry," says the voice. Harry tenses up. His eyes wander around the room -- notices Niall is still sleeping in front of him, and Louis and Liam are sleeping on the floor -- to look for the owner of the voice. If you look at him right now, you can see his foreheand is wrinkling like a scrunched paper, sitting still on his sleeping space as if he moves, he dies. His heart is pumping quickly but his face is pale and his lips are dry.

"Angry with the curtain?" the voice speaks again. But this time, Harry manages to find the owner of the voice. See, she's sitting on her hospital bed with bandage wrapped around his head and hands and legs. Her dark brown hair falls on her shoulder and stops just above her waist. She looks pretty awful. Harry can even bet with himself that her body is also wrapped in wire gauze.

"You can't be mad at it. The wind is chilling outside, the curtain is just doing its job," she continues talking; meanwhile Harry stares at her with mixed emotions.

"Hey!" she waves her hand to bring him back to Earth, although they're a few steps apart. "What are you thinking? Are you afraid of me?" she asks. Her voice is so soft that it melts his heart.

Harry gulps, opening his mouth and struggling to speak. "Ehem, uh."

She chuckles softly, somehow it feels funny to see someone who doesn't know who she really is is afraid of her. "You are afraid of me," she exclaims.

"Yeah... Of course...," Harry finally speaks. "I mean you- we don't know each other, do we? How do you know my name?" he asks.

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" the girl answers him with a question. "Did you forget that you're Harry from One Direction? I hope you still remember that because I will be broken if you don't remember yourself."

Harry then quickly blushes. "Uhh, yes, I do remember I am from One Direction," he says, looking down to his laps while rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry. I forgotten where I was just now," he politely explains to the girl.

"Don't worry," she replies. "I didn't remember what happened to me when I awoke just now too but when I see this," she raises up her bandaged hand, "everything comes back to my mind."

Harry winces. He could only imagine how it feels to be wrapped up the whole body. "I am sorry," Harry sends his condolenscense.

"Oh, don't bother," the girls says without emotion, that makes Harry wonder what else could possibly happen to her.

The boy doesn't know what to reply then. He's out of idea. Usually, when it comes to girls, he knows how to continue a conversation. Not that he's a playboy who knows every sweet word every girl wants to hear, but he's good with girls, especially that he grew up with two girls in the house, and worked with elder women at the bakery, so he knows what girls love and hate to hear. But with this girl...