Tranquility overshadowed us, but it could have been mistaken for numbness. This was beginning to get repetitive. You'd think after finding so much stuff out about him, he'd do a better job at hiding it. I don't want to think about how many times we've been in this situation, and I was tired of it.
Harry went pale, his arms by his sides as his firm chest rose and fell ever so slowly. He then closed his eyes, shook his head and
stared right back at me.
"They're not mine." He stated.
My scowl was forming by the second, and I crossed my arms as I stood straight. "Whose are they?"
I could see the fear in his eyes that he might lose me, and it only told me that he'd done something worth me leaving him for. He fell silent, and didn't answer.
"I'll ask again," I spat, my voice rough as he frowned in concern. "Whose are they?"
He parted his lips almost immediately, he then whispered. "They're mine."
I didn't know why I smiled, probably because I was trying to hide how much I didn't want to. But then my smile faded, a sigh leaving my lips as I looked to my feet and bit my red lip.
I didn't want to answer, so Harry did it for me. "It's honestly not as bad as it seems."
"How in the hell is this not as bad as it seems, Harry?" I snapped, taking a swift step towards him.
"B-Because, they're not for me. I mean, yeah, they're mine but not for much longer." He spoke breathlessly as his panicking eyes glanced back and forth from me and the drugs.
"Who are they for then?" I asked dryly.
"God," he murmured to himself in frustration, fisting his hair. "I... I can't tell you. Just put it this way-"
"No!" I slammed the trunk closed, locking his secret stash. "I only want you to put it my way. And that's the truth, just tell me the truth for once in this fucking relationship."
He was taken aback at my words, and he stayed silent for a while. But then he swallowed, his eyes meeting mine. "I'm doing somebody a favour, all right? That's all."
"Are you doing it for money?" I bluntly inquired, my nostrils flaring as I stood stiffly in front of him.
"I'm not getting paid for this."
I only fell silent, contemplating my thoughts. He put us at so much risk, I couldn't even imagine what kind of shit people got in when they did stuff like this.
But then my eyes widened, and realisation drained me. "So you're telling me, you broke into your mother's house and trashed everything, not caring that you had drugs in your car?"
He only nodded timidly.
"Great." I breathed anxiously.
"You know I wouldn't let you get in trouble. If we got caught, I'd tell them you're innocent." He assured, his lips pouting as he stated the most mediocre, unsatisfying sentence I've ever heard.
"Do you expect me to find that romantic or something?"
He didn't answer.
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Call Boy. (Harry Styles Fan Fiction) on holdFanfiction
Harley Thomas; an anxiously wrecked Christian who thrives on judging those who sin. Harry Styles; an emotionally wrecked Atheist who thrives on sinning.