✓ Meanwhile [h.styles]

.twelve.

Harry's temples are far beyond bruised from how hard he's been pressing them in with his fingers. He's been thinking too much for the past few hours. Pressing hard on his temples, thinking; pressing hard on his temples, thinking. His lips are still tingling and he feels guilty for what happened hours ago.

He can't remember the last time he felt guilty, so he knows this is bad. Knows this won't end well. Because he's stupid.

He takes a breath and watches a man emerge from behind one of the parked cars against the moist wall of the closed off alley. His windshield is (finally) clean and his nails are cut properly so they won't distract him. But none of this means anything because Astraya is still in his head and that's distraction enough.

He feels like he needs to explain himself to her. Tell her that being his distraction isn't all that bad. It means he doesn't think about his mother or his shit father. It means he doesn't have flashbacks of the same car accident or flashbacks of the same fights. It means it's her. It's all her and it's been going so smoothly up until last night.

The man walks to the front of the parked SUV and crosses his arms. The subtle arch of his nose and familiar dip of his shoulders lets him know it's Uriah.

Harry leaves his car almost immediately and fixes his hair to cover his temples. He runs his right hand through the front of it so the strands shield the dead look inside of his eyes.

Deep down he knows this won't end well. This has all been the calm before the storm and something is bound to go wrong. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but he feels like there's a disaster creeping up on him.

"She didn't come tonight, I see."

Harry snaps out of his thoughts quickly. Embarrassed for getting lost in them in the first place. He squints his eyes at Uriah and nods with vague interest, his mind almost drifting off entirely to Astraya. "This isn't her fight."

"Yeah." The other man rubs the back of his neck and looks up at one of the broken lampposts. "What is it you're fighting for again?"

"You know what I want."

He smiles sickly. "That key, eh? All of this for a lousy key?"

Harry takes a small breath and tightens his hands into fists. His patience is wearing thin and it's only been two minutes of standing here.

"What are you going to do when you get it? Do you think you have the balls to kill-"

"Why don't you give it to me first and then find out?"

Uriah laughs. His blown eyes and red cheeks let Harry know he's either high or drunk. "It's not up to me," he teases. "I'm just the guy whose shitty sister you're fucking."

Something goes off inside his head and it feels a lot like the snap of a bone ringing in his ears. His fist flies to the side of Uriah's face. He pulls back to deliver another one, and this time Uriah falls to his knees in front of him. He laughs again, quietly this time, and Harry goes at it another three times until he thinks he got the message across.

He looks down and pauses.

Uriah smiles through the blood, white teeth stained in red. His tongue darts out to lick the scarlet liquid, and Harry grimaces. His stare is blank as he tightens his grip on Astraya's brother's -Astraya's brother's- shirt.

"Do it," the younger man urges, blood trickling down his chin. There's a thick trail of it on Harry's knuckles. "Kill me and tell her."

Harry closes his eyes and realizes he's just been caught in a challenge. This meet-up was to test him; see if he'd really hold himself back for her.