You're So Golden |H.S|

Chapter 4

Our feet dangle over the edge as we sit only a few inches apart from one another on the platform of the billboard, while an empty shake and plate of fries sit in between the two of us to kept us apart.

Harry's focused on looking up at the stars, pointing over at them to show me every once in a while, but I keep my focus on him. Trying to somehow read him or pick up on the energy he's putting out, but he seems to be normal, if anything better than normal.

"What are you scared of?" Harry asks still keeping his focus on the midnight sky, looking up all over the place.

We've been playing this little game for the past hour where we'll randomly ask each other a question, and you just answer it without putting too much thought into it. I'm not really sure how such a vulnerable thing happened, but here we are, and I definitely blame the drugs, but i'm not complaining, the conversation has been nice so far.

Harry told me he's twenty three, ranted on about how Chinese food is overrated, and his favorite type of music is anything classic rock related.

After the dumb questions we both will probably quickly forget by morning, we started talking about things I never would've imagined speaking to a stranger about.

Things like worries for the future, if we honestly think aliens exist, and what we wish our families would look like one day.

It's crazy to say, but each time our answers were nearly the same, which makes it easier to talk to him, and easy knowing he's being just as vulnerable as me.

"Butterflies" I answer honestly, knowing he'll start laughing like everyone else always does.

When he doesn't laugh I look over at him, but swallow harshly when I see an evil glare coming at my direction. I have never received such a dirty look in my entire laugh.

You would have thought I slapped him across the face or something.

"First of all who the hell is scared of butterflies? You're an adult" he snarls at me as if I can control my phobias, "second, you'd hate to see me shirtless because I have a giant one on my chest" he laughs, looking down into his open shirt.

Suddenly I have the urge to push him and his terrible attitude off this platform. Who would've thought i'd be the dangerous one after all.

"Sass me again and we'll have problems" I glare, "and I don't like things that flutter around in my face. I think they are pretty but they can be scary too" I go on, trying to explain myself but Harry's only laughing like I told him a hilarious joke.

"Most pretty things are terrifying though, don't you think?" he speaks up, calming himself down from his laughing fit.

He may not have meant to be serious with what he just said, but I let his words sink in for a moment, genuinely processing his thought, and he's right.

Beautiful things are for more intimidating and scary than the ugly.

In my case, pretty is scary because i'm so use to the ugly. If I ever started to experience the pretty things in life, i'd only be scared they'd get taken away from me, leaving me back with the ugly again.

Who would want to experience the pain of that? I rather settle for the ugly instead of getting my hopes up just to be let down when I realize the pretty things in life aren't meant for me.

"Okay but what are you actually afraid of? And please don't say flowers" he breaks the silence, trying to hold in his laughter, but he only makes a fart like sound when trying to keep it in, which sends him into another laughing fit.

He definitely was being honest when he said he doesn't smoke often, and i'm starting to notice why he wouldn't, but I still laugh along with him, even though I hate giving him that satisfaction.