❝We drink the poison our minds pour for us and wonder why we feel so sick.❞

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A/N: if i publish the trailer, will you watch it?

A WEEK HAD PASSED since Anna had stared unblinkingly at Harry, a storm of emotions passing on her face. Harry had known better than to ask her and had since been trying to avoid the awkward conversation that was long overdue. Training sessions, breakfasts of oatmeal donuts and milk, and field training were all skipped by him.

Although he was keeping his distance, Harry had no idea why. His best guess was that vulnerability weakened him. His past with his father was proof enough and every time he thought someone could trust him, he knew he had to run a mile away. He had had too many bad experiences after all.

If he couldn't trust his own family, how could he let someone else trust him? He had only seen how promises were broken and how truths were spun into lies. He had only learnt deceit. He couldn't do that to anyone. Especially not to her.

He looked at her now. Her hair, pulled back in a tight ponytail, flew as she tackled Mia. Her movements, agile and graceful, captivated him. She prowled like a panther, matching Mia's every move with a stroke or defense of her own. She was laughing, right after Mia held her nose, stumbling back. She looked like home.

A sharp stinging pain paralyzed his face and Harry staggered back. He rubbed his cheek with his arm and it came back blood stained. He focused his eyes on a concerned Noah standing in front of him.

"Hey man, you good? This is the fourth time I've punched you and you haven't struck back. Even once." Noah looked mystified at Harry, never having encountered such a situation before.

Mark, on hearing the commotion, cast away the silencer he was making and stood up. Jeremy protested about having to make the stupid bomb all alone while everyone else had fun. He pushed his glasses up his scrunched nose and got back to working on the foldable table.

Bribing Jeremy with the promise of an extra slice of pizza later, Mark sauntered over from the other end of the training lawn. The grass was dry and tall trees stood dotted about the backyard. The warehouse had a large space for truck parking and it was that very area that now served as their training ground.

"Harry, do you need a minute?" An unusual silence was carried by his words and Harry was momentarily aware of it.

"No, I'm good. Let's start again," Harry quickly diverted back to strengthening his foothold the moment he saw Anna staring at them. "Come on, Noah, punch me."

Noah took a step back and drew off his gloves. "Absolutely not. Get your head in it." He let out an exasperated sigh and walked right past Anna, into the warehouse.

Mark eyed Harry, his brows creased together. He noticed Harry's uneasiness and it was not difficult to put two and two together. He grabbed hold of Harry's arm. "Walk."

He pulled a protesting Harry along with him. Anna walked straight up to them. "What's wrong?" Her eyes bore into Harry's, concern etched on her small face. Harry felt strangely drawn to tuck away the stray strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail. He quickly looked away, chastising himself.

"Not now, Anna. Go back to training. We'll be back in a minute," Mark said, briskly, taking Harry along with him. As much as he wanted to, Harry did not turn back. He was silently grateful to Mark for the swift save and quietly followed him into the store room.

Noah was coming down from the lobby stairs and Mark dispatched him to help Jeremy for a few minutes. Once he was out of sight, Mark whirled on Harry.

He smacked the top of Harry's head, eyes scanning him for further information. Harry looked down at his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wasn't going to look at Mark and nothing could make him.

Mark sighed, exasperated. "It's like I am handling a toddler. Where is your goddamn head? Why did you zone out, Harry? Why are you skipping training sessions? You know how much this job means to you. To us. To your father."

Harry looked up at Mark, his features tensing. He clutched his palm closed and opened it again. He hated the mention of his father. Even in death, the man couldn't leave him alone.

His breathing trembled and his golden eyes turned darker with each passing second. Mark, sensing his discomfort, placed a hand on his shoulder.

"This is hard for you, I know. But you must do what you need to do. You need to figure out what is more important to you. Our lives or a girl's feelings."

Harry's eyes shot up once again to match Mark's. He stepped closer to Mark, gritting his teeth. "I don't care about feelings anymore. I left that a long time ago when everyone fucked me over and left me to die. Don't you dare assume anything else."

Mark pushed Harry off of him. "Then you better start acting like it. Because if I see you losing your head one more time, I'm reporting you."

Harry sneered, a nasty smile on his face. "You wouldn't dare."

"You see, Harry, the world does not revolve around you. You cannot force it to. Whether you like it or not, both of our lives depend on getting the Agapi Mou. And I'm not going to end up six feet under just because you lost your focus for a girl."

Harry tilted his head to his right, the veins on his neck popping. Slowly, a small smile fought his way back onto his face. Soon it turned into devilish laughter, his whole frame rocking with the force.

"You're just scared of me. Maybe she'll turn out to be just like Isabelle," Harry spat. "You really can't handle competition, can you?" He laughed once again, hysterically. "Worried someone might leave you for me again?"

This time around, Mark's blue eyes turned a threatening colour, the shade of the sky before a storm. His knuckles turned white and Harry could see that it took every ounce of strength in him to not plummet Harry. Mark closed his eyes and let his head cool down.

"You are an asshole, Harry. Figure out your priorities before you get all of us killed. It's either a member of the crew or all of our lives." Mark turned to walk away and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Anna standing at the door.

Thoroughly embarrassed by his earlier choice of words, Mark stepped forward to offer an explanation. Anna pulled up a hand, stopping him. "I've heard enough. I'd like to talk to Harry," Anna said, a flash of hurt fleeting by her eyes.

"Just so you know, I did not mean-"

"Please," Anna implored once again and this time, Mark stopped.

"Okay, I'll leave you two alone. But I want you back on the lawn in fifteen minutes. Not a second late," Mark said and walked out, closing the steel door behind him.

Harry looked at Anna, waiting for her to speak. After all, it was her who wanted a word with him. And after that day, Harry decided it was best that he kept his mouth shut. He refused to meet her eyes, deciding that his shoes were much more easier to look at.

"Look up," Anna said, her voice commanding. Harry knew he should not look up. He knew that if he did, she would end up asking questions that he himself did not have the answers to.

"Harry," she said, "you cannot lock yourself away. You know you can talk. Mark's just grumpy because I wasn't training well the past few days. Of course, you'd know if you ever came by."

She touched his arm, right above his spiralling tattoos, but she quickly moved it away. Brushing her shirt, she sat down on one of the crates. "Tell me."

Harry's eyes found hers and he couldn't seem to look away. There was something that screamed wrong about her but he couldn't place a finger on it. He couldn't decide what it was that pushed him away and pulled him towards her.

He felt like the north pole of a magnet being pulled to her but at the end moment someone would turn him towards her north. It confused him, this continuous process. Harry knew one thing: he had to get the Agapi Mou if he wished to live.

There was no way around it. He just wished things weren't so complicated. He had come here to work with unknown people who wouldn't ask questions.

But here was this dark haired girl with forest green eyes who asked him questions that he had been trying to run away from. She was trying to break walls, trying to share her life with him.

To the ordinary eye, it looked like love. It did. But Harry knew better. This wasn't right. She asked too many questions. She'd asked about Florian. And then she was asking about him. He felt it in his bones now. She was wrong for him and he knew why.

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