"You've got to be kidding me."
Tilting his head back, Harry squints up at his captors, mouth turned down at the corners into a scowl. He's got a certain air about him, even splayed out on his knees, like somehow he thinks if he fights back about this that they'll just cave to his demands. It's like he somehow has forgotten the handcuffs behind his back, the gag that Oli just wrestled out from between his lips.
"Are you seriously joking? You expect me just to sit here and read your little note on camera? My own ransom note? You don't have someone to do that for you?"
"It wasn't a request." Liam grits through his teeth, holding up the paper again with a shake. "Do what you're told."
"Do what I'm told? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" Here, Harry's perfectly sculpted eyebrow goes towards his hairline, voice sharp. "Have me down here, in the fucking dark on the floor, reading a note on what? Is that a Nando's bag? Must be with your chicken scratch. Didn't do too well in your studies, did you?"
"Oi!" Liam's head turns to the side, waiting for backup, but Louis and Zayn are pressed shoulder to shoulder, hiding their stifled laughter behind their hands. When they notice him staring, Louis is quick to shove his elbow into Zayn's side, straightening up. They're too far in the dark for Harry to see.
"Couldn't even spring for a ring light or something? Half blinding me with that shoddy torch." Harry is still continuing on, rolling his eyes. The jeweled strap of his tank top slides down his shoulder. "Thought the very least that Louis Tomlinson could spare a few coins to do some proper lighting. You are a proper crime lord, right? Or is this just a gig for you? A little side hustle? God. With the way you look, that navy suit, I'd wager your day job is in finance."
"Shut your mouth!" Liam barks, rolls his shoulders back. He hates that he is the one having to do this. Why couldn't it have been Zayn's turn? Even Luke's? They're much better at handling the chatty ones.
"Well, make up your mind." Rolling his eyes, Harry blows out a deep sigh, mouth puckered up. "Do you want me to talk or not? Or read? You're really being very unclear."
"I want-" Liam clears his throat, his hand sweaty as it crinkles the bag a bit, but Harry interrupts him.
"Aw, it's okay. Do you want to start over? Go out and come back in?" His words are cooing but Harry's eyes are sharp. He knows what he's doing when he bats his ashes like that. "You look a little nervous. It's okay. I know I have that effect on men."
