Carolina [h.s]

chapter fifteen

"You're strange, Vada Evans." his bloodshot eyes peer down at me with a soft curve of his lips.

This time I do take the joint from his fingertips, taking a drag as he watches me still, like he's trying to figure something out. I noted that pot made him very curious and almost childlike.

"You're one to talk." I feel the heavy weight in my head from the cannabis, my eyes probably matching his red ones. I hand the roach back to him, and he puts it out in the ashtray.

"I just mean you should've run from me a long time ago." he states, crossing his arms. He still watches me closely, and then his lips curve with a lazy shrug. "But then again, I'm not really surprised," he steps past me reaching down on the floor for a discarded pair of black jeans.

I'm watching him now. "Oh?" I wonder as he digs through the pockets of the jeans.

He pulls something out that looks like a piece of plastic, and I can't really see what's inside because of the lighting.

"Everyone else may be surprised by what you want, and although it's such a shame, such a waste" he meets my eyes again "because someone with such a pretty soul shouldn't be caught dead with me." he chuckles, a light exhale from his nose.

He steps closer now and my eyes glance down to his hands, and what he holds isn't really unexpected. The small plastic bag holds white powder, something foreign to me but normal to him.

Biting the inside of my cheek I looked back at him, eyes slightly widened. Trouble finds my fear appealing as he sends me a smirk.

"You asked for it," he reaches for my hand putting the plastic in my palm. "or were you bluffing?" he challenges because we both know I always want to prove a point.

We both know he's always the one I want to prove it to. I look from the white powder in my palm back to his eyes. "Show me" I hear myself saying.

A rolled up Benjamin Franklin sucks up perfect white lines through his nose.

I watch as the drug settles in a burn through his raw nose, and he throws his head back sniffing. Curls are pulled back by a green headband giving me a clear view of his bloodshot eyes, as they land on me, and then his lips pull into a large all white toothed grin.

The white light from the bathroom is bright around us, as I sit on the closed toilet seat. Harry stands leaned over the counter next to the sink, the drug lined up perfectly on the surface. I hear him breathe in again and it should be a sight I can't take, that I should run away from.

But I can't take my eyes away as I watch him inhale the chemical like he couldn't get enough, and just the sight seems addictive. He leans his head back towards the ceiling after the third line breathing deeply, and sniffling through the burn.

I stand up as he leans his hips against the edge of the counter, one perfect line left on cheap marble. I glance up at him through the mirror as I stand behind him, he watches me as his whole body buzzes, and his eyes light on fire.

"How bad does it burn?" I wonder anxiously.

"Bad." He's honest with a red nose and watering eyes. "But I'm used to it, I've done it countless times." he reminds me.

I step forward with an empty mind letting my actions and adrenaline take over my anxiety. I push past him towards the stripped out drug on the counter. Bending down like I watched him do before taking the rolled up bill to my nose and-