Sweet Tooth [HS]

SEVENTY ONE

The world went quiet and the lights went out and something died inside of Max. 

Her heart, yes, her heart. 

But something else. Something new. Something that would not come back. 

Her heart might mend itself one day, she might learn a new body, a new, gentler love - she might become fixed, one day. 

But as Max stood there, watching the boy she loved kiss somebody else - yes. Max felt something happen. 

It was her love - it was her soul-sucking soul-crushing love - dying. She felt it dying. 

It was like a rushing river turned to ice in the winter, like Medusa turned skin into stone. Or it was like the petals of a spring rose withering, had been withering and were brown - but now, now they were black, and they fell to the ground. Gone forever. 

Not coming back. 

I hate you she thought. 

I hate you I hate you I hate you. 

It was a match sparked in her injured heart, burning what was left of her love like a wildfire and snuffing it out like smoke. 

She hated him.

For the first time in Max's life - she hated Harry Styles.

And then the door opened. 

And bile rose in Max's throat.

And then green eyes met hers and for a moment that was all that existed in the world.

His eyes. Harry's eyes. That blinked and widened and went soft around the edges.

And it was five long silent seconds that lasted a whole lifetime as he looked at her, as she looked at him.

And then "Maxie," he whispered.

And the name, his name, snagged something in Max. It caught on the jagged edges of her broken heart, slipped through the fresh, gaping wound ripped new by this betrayal. But it meant nothing. 

It meant nothing because there was nothing left. 

I hate you I hate you I hate you.

It echoed through her empty spaces, sunk into her sadness, branded her fucking bones. 

I hate you I hate you I hate you. 

Her brown eyes narrowed and her soft parts went hard as all the bits that loved him froze over.

And she looked at him again, her bladed eyes stabbing and stabbing and stabbing.

It was just a look. Nothing more.

But Max decided it was the last time she would look at him - the last time she would let him look at her.

So when he tried to speak - when he tried to catch her wrist as she left - Max did not turn, did not flinch. Just thought I hate you I hate you I hate you as a few moments later she threw up on the concrete.