Empire /h.s/

nineteen*

Katherine

I'm not sure what Harry could possibly need to show me in his car garage as he's currently unlocking the side door that leads into the building. I shift awkwardly on my feet, my bag that holds my phone and other necessities I needed tonight is clutched in my hands.

The cool air runs through my hair, my thin sweatshirt I threw on before walking out doing nothing to keep me warm. It's October now, so the days are getting shorter, and the nights are getting colder.

Tonight didn't go as badly as I expected, minus the fact that I'm pretty sure I broke Mikey's nose. I don't know what came over me, everyone egging me on just caused something to snap in me. And before I knew it, my fist was crashing across his face.

In a way it felt... good? In some sick way, it felt good to almost prove a point to everyone in that room that I'm not as fragile as I seem. Am I emotional? Sure. Are the cracks in my glass glued together with chewing gum and scotch tape? Absolutely. But I can throw a good punch so at least I have that going for me.

Jacob and I have been texting quite a bit since I ran into him at the store. Nothing serious or any hints on where he's taking me, just little questions about each other.

I couldn't keep my excitement in when I arrived at Harry's and told Jenny about our date. She seemed a little too excited for me and asked me about him. Given there wasn't much to tell since I don't really know him.

When I was taking to Jenny, I could feel Harry's eyes starting into the back of my head, but I brushed it off when I would sneak a glance at him and he would be turned the opposite way.

I'm still wary about him, my brain definitely hasn't processed everything from the beginning of the week. From everything that he told me to the way he lashed out is till in the back of my mind.

In the time I've known him, I've never seen him act like that. He changed into a completely different person, and I can tell that he recognized that by not talking about it. It's obviously something that he struggles with and I'm not going to push him to explain the reason for his actions. While I don't appreciate it, I would never force him to spell out his problems.

The scent of rubber and gasoline hit my nostrils when Harry opens the door. He flicks on a light switch to our left, the harsh lighting making my eyes squint due to how dark it is outside. I had a feeling that Harry had a few cars, maybe three at most. But looking around the concret space, he definitely has more than three.

I'm not good with car brands, but from what I do know, he has a Mustang, Cadillac, Ferrari, Bently, and of course his vintage Mercedes. All of the cars look vintage, except for a few. Over in the corner I see two motorcycles, both being a slick color of black with shiny metal.

The colors of the cars though, they are nothing like I would expect from someone like Harry. I figured if he had any other cars, they would all be black, or a very dark gray; but I was wrong.

I already knew his Mercedes was dark green, and the Tesla, Audi, and Range Rover that I see are all black. But his Ferrari is yellow, compared to the black one he drove me home in the other night. The Bently is a very light gray-blue, the Cadillac has a type of copper color to it, and the Mustang is white. The other cars, that I have no idea what Italian brand they are, are a mix of black, white, and gray.

"Wow," I let out a huff of air at the beautiful pieces of metal in front of me. Harry looks around at his treasure trove of cars after shutting the door behind us. He has that look on his face like he knows he's hot shit for being able to afford all of these.

"These are just a few of them, the older ones were my fathers. The rest are over in England," he smirks over at me when I look at him with wide eyes.

"Well," I nod my head, "They are all very nice," I'm not sure what to say to him as my fingers fiddle with the strap on my bag.