~* Bad decisions make great stories *~
A Harry Styles dark romance that explores the intricacies of mental health, morality and sexual attraction. Enter a world of sin, opulence and crime.
*****
It started and ended with the wind.
She was a hurrican...
"So rather than being kicked around, I'm going to kick you to the curb
So rather than being pushed around, I'm going to push you away first
So rather than trying to protect you, I'm going to cover my bases first
So rather than trying to open my heart, I'm going to lock it with a key
So that only the special ones can ever get through to me"
Special Ones - George.
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Déjà vu.
Addy is asleep in my car again. She had a panic attack. Again. My feelings around the subject are so jumbled and unfamiliar that I don't even know where to begin unpacking them.
A text from security confirmed that the man from the dance floor had been given a VIP experience before being forcefully removed from the premesis.
Another message from Matt informed me as we were leaving that Evan, the moron, had shown up outside Fantasia drunk and demanding Addy come out and speak to him. Knowing Matt has that situation under control allows me to focus on the confusing, petite brunette curled up in my passenger seat.
I can't decide if it would be better or worse for me to learn the full extent of her trauma. I am already displaying far too much irrational behaviour when it comes to this girl. Like tonight - I'd been prepared to storm in there and rip her off the dance floor because my lapse in judgement convinced me that it was the best way to protect her. Nevermind the fact that something else entirely unexpected clenches deep in my stomach at the thought of anyone else seeing her like this.
I am not a misogynist. I don't care how women dress, and I certainly don't think that a woman's choice of clothing ever means she's 'asking for it'. Whatever the fuck it is. And yet a dark, primitive part of me still wants to gouge out the eyes of every person who saw Addy in that outfit of hers tonight.
I let out a deep, frustrated sigh and finally turn the car around to head towards my building. We've been driving around aimlessly for the last twenty minutes while I decompress and try to organise my thoughts. Besides, when Addy fell asleep a minute into the ride home something in me was reluctant to wake her straight away. It's obvious how exhausting these attacks are for her.
A sharp pain stings my chest when I think about her going through something like this alone, or worse, in front of Evan. The scenario has my knuckles turning white as my grip on the steering wheel tightens. I yearn for the day I no longer need him alive.
She's so quiet; I can barely even hear her breathing. It's as though, even in her sleep, she still tries to be invisible. If only she knew how much she stands out. I can find her instantly in a crowded room.
Addy lets out a small huff and shifts restlessly and my eyes instantly snap to her. If only I could hear what went on inside that head of hers; I've noticed how much she seems to get lost in her own mind. For someone so quiet it's amazing how much I want to hear what she has to say.
