Night Changes

25

I regarded him cautiously, unsure how to proceed with him in this state. I had been around a drunk Harry before, and usually it was playful and I spent most of my time fending off his wandering hands. This time was different. This time, the glare he gave me, the way he regarded me, made me nervous.  I found myself wishing Niall and Louis had come up to the apartment with me.

“Come on in,” he said, leaning forward to hold his drink out to me. “Have a drink.”

“I don’t feel like a drink, Harry,” I said softly, trying to keep my voice in check.

“Too bad,” he said without humor. “It helps.”

I paused a moment, taking him in before I ventured further into the living room. “Helps with what?”

“The pain in my chest.” He stated quickly and without reservation. His eyes stayed locked on the glass in his hands, watching as he swirled the dark liquid around for a moment, before pressing it to his lips and tossing his head back.  He grimaced as the alcohol seared his throat, before setting the glass down on the table.

I felt my heart clench, the air rushing from me as if he had punched me in the stomach. ‘The pain in my chest’. I hated that I was the cause of this. The cause of yet another stressor in his already overwhelmed life. But what I hated more was his choice of solution. Numbing himself with alcohol, alone in his apartment, wallowing in self pity. This was yet another thing that my Harry wouldn’t have turned to.

I walked slowly around the coffee table, carefully sitting down on the couch with him. I left a noticeable distance between us, figuring it was best, and also, pointed. There had been such a distance between us for weeks, so having one now just seemed right.

Harry watched me as I sat, his eyes never leaving me until I was situated. It was only then that he reached out, pouring himself another drink.

I said nothing. Merely watched him, trying to gauge how to proceed.

Thankfully, he started.

“He came to you.” He said, the words more of a statement than a question.

“Yes.” I confirmed, knowing that now was the best time for honesty. I would tell him what he wanted to know, but also what I needed to say. We needed to talk this out, to move passed it. But also we needed to talk about all the preceding issues that brought us to this place. A place where he was getting drunk alone and I was afraid of him.

“He still loves you.” Again, he said it as a statement.

“He says so,” I answered. “But I doubt it. He didn’t love me when I was with him. I don’t think he loves me now.”

Harry snorted, swirling the liquor in his glass again. “You don’t know the effect you have on men, babe.”

I scowled, my eyebrows drawing together. “What effect is that?”

“You consume them.” He said flatly. “You captivate them, entice them, and drive them mad. You don’t mean to. But you do.” He turned to me, his face the gentlest it had been since I arrived home. “Look what you’ve done to me.”