Eternal [HS]

Chapter Thirty-Three

Her face turns to the source of the noise when a voice snaps her out of her concentrated state.

"You shouldn't bother with those."

Mitch is sitting in the chair beside her without a sign of exertion on his face from the match he won only a moment ago.

Flipping to the next page, she asks, "Why not? We have to figure out something one way or another, and the last time we did was from one of these."

In her peripheral vision, she can see a blur of Harry and Niall fighting. Their bodies move quicker than she can see in great detail, fists surging forward and feet prancing back to dodge in a rush of motion she cannot keep up with. In her direct line of sight, Mitch sits with one leg crossed over the other and a half-full bottle of whiskey clutched in one hand.

He leans forward to brace one of his arms on his crossed knees and looks over her shoulder at the paper scrawled with neat cursive handwriting. There's a second of pause, of reading it over for the millionth time since he came here for the first time after Elias' death to talk about what was found, before he reaches over and snatches it from her unsuspecting hands.

Her mouth opens to speak, but he says, "You should enjoy yourself. Most people who make a blood bond with someone celebrate for months after, and you're here trying to decode this bullshit."

Mentioning the blood bond instantly makes her gaze turn down to the bite mark on her left wrist, eyes fluttering shut for a split-second to recall the vivid memory of when it was made. February came and went so quickly, it's hard for her to believe that it has been a month since they went to Blume to tail Elias home, a month since his birthday, and a month since she first wanted to tell him she loved him.

If someone told her that day in the club that she'd have a blood bond with Harry, she probably would've thought them mad. She wasn't even sure if he loved her back a month ago, let alone enough to commit to her for the rest of his life. Some of it was, admittedly, her being blinded by her own insecurity to not see how much he cared for her, but how was she to know? This world and all that comes with it is new to her. Where she comes from, things like vampires and blood bonds only exist in fantasy, yet here, it's reality. If Niall hadn't told her, she likely never would've known on her own what the feeling she had was.

She looks back up from the bite mark.

"Fine, then what do you suggest I do to celebrate?"

The sound of his friends fighting in the background fills the silence as he offers up the bottle of whiskey to her with a grin.

"I'm sure you guys have already celebrated in other ways, so getting drunk seems like the next step."

Her cheeks burn with the implications of what celebrating in 'other ways' must mean. He isn't wrong. They have celebrated in 'other ways', but the idea of anyone thinking about them in that context, albeit innocently and casually mentioned in passing, makes her want to hide her face in the blanket draped over her shoulders.

That form of celebration is definitely not something they've lacked in the time since making the bond. Those first few days were a blur of relentless sex with breaks for her to nap and eat. It wasn't just sex, of course, they read books and talked, but by the time they got back to normal life, she felt like her legs might give out whenever she walked downstairs.

She takes the whiskey bottle and puts it to her lips to take a swig. The alcohol creates a fiery burn on its way down her throat, and though she tries not to make an obvious grimace in reaction to it, she sees his lips press together to suppress a laugh.

"God, how do you drink that with a straight face?" she asks, laughing and handing it back to him.

He shrugs.