Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
"It is happening again." ♫Silver Soul by Beach House. ✰ TW: Mental Health.
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I fucking hated being sober.
Every emotion magnified, every sense heightened, every step on this scary fucking planet so scar; too real. Seeing the world around me so flat and colorless and boring all the time wasn't a good feeling.
It felt like I was walking around in black and white. I could remember every detail of my past, of my mistakes, and they all rewinded to play over & over, like an old VHS tape.
It was torturous to feel so-hollow and void.
"Come on, get out."
Grabbing my cigarettes, I lifted myself off the cold cot in the jail cell I was thrown into last night by Zayn so I could walk out, "I fucking stink and it's your fault, you cunt-"
"Yeah, well maybe if you didn't treat Niko like a piece of shit then we wouldn't be here, would we?!" Zayn yelled right back as he followed me out, making me flinch slightly.
I ignored him, walked out of the holding area, into the station, and past all of the police officers who were busy picking up the mess that I'd made last night. I told Zayn I wasn't going to come here, he caused it, he forced me. I may have broken a couple of vases, a couple of desks, noses-who cared?
I pushed open the front door of the station to the cold outside air, and I immediately caught onto Niko's car waiting in the parking lot, but I turned left instead.
"Harlow!" I could hear him running towards me within' seconds as I lit a cigarette and he stopped me the second that he reached me, grabbing my arm, "Hey, where are you going? I have the car, we can go home-"
"You put me in jail, does it look like I have any interest in going home with you?" I snatched my arm away from him, standing across from him with disgust, "What in fucks name makes you think I'm going anywhere with you?"
"Harlow, I put you in there for your own safety. It was either that or the hospital and you refused. After what happened yesterday, I... I couldn't leave you at home?" he said, his brows knitted deeply as he took another step toward me, "Please, don't act like this, just come home. There's things we have to talk about and..."
I furrowed my eyebrows at him, noticing he was finding it hard to look at me, and when he slid his hand down to my own, holding onto my fingers, I looked down too, "Let's just... go home."
"Why are you acting like this-what happened?" I muttered.
He ran his thumb across each knuckle, tracing some of my tattoos. "Nothing-nothing happened-"
"You're lying. What the fuck happened?" I raised my voice.
Niko let go of my hand and ran it over his face before attempting to guide me toward the car, "We'll talk at home-"
