Wanted

chapter 15: promises

   "He never was. Even at her funeral, I just stood in the mud with only my grandma and me, staring at her unmarked grave stone. W-we  couldn't afford her name to be inscribed." Harry leans into my neck, and I feel his tears relocate to my skin. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

   "It's okay, Harry. You needed to let it out."

   "Yeah, sometimes when I keep everything cooped up like this I feel like I'm about to explode."

    "I understand." And I do, pain is hard to keep inside of you all the time. It is like a battle with your inner demons, a never-ending struggle to fight for the bit of sanity you have left. I respect and admire Harry for talking to me about it. 

   "I'm messed up, you know? And you'll have to deal with all of it." When he says it like that, it seems so sudden and permanent. 

   But he doesn't need that right now. "I think, Harry, what you have underneath is worth the mess."

   He looks at me, seeming suprised at my accepting words. "Say that again."

  "I think what you have underneath is worth your mess."

   Harry's eyes widen, and he looks happy. Happy, Harry? That isn't a likely combination for him. "Kiss me."

    "Always so demanding." I answer, biting back a smile. 

    His eyes fall to half open as he leans closer to my face. He takes his lip between his teeth, playing with his piercing. He looks unbelieveably sexy. Slowly, I bring my face up to meet his. My hands slip underneath his shirt and rest on his waist while he wraps my hair along his fingertips. He kisses me softly, a vast difference from that steamy party. It's gentle and yet breath-consuming. I'm too wrapped up in his lips to notice the door slamming. Shit. Zayn. 

   I get up too quickly, conking my head against Harry's. Ouch. "Zayn?"

   The dark-headed boy takes in the sight of Harry and I, his expression clouded. I can't tell what he's thinking. Harry gets up too, avoiding my gaze and untangling his long legs from mine. Zayn doesn't move, just stays poised against the railing of the porch. 

Finally, he says something. "Thank you, Jade, for the movie." Then he's gone, hopping into his truck and taking off. 

    As I turn to Harry, I am not expecting the expression on his face. Jealousy so white-hot his face looks like it's about to explode. "H-Harry?" I try to touch him, but his hand flings away from me. He gets up, straightening his shirt. 

    "What the hell, Jade? What is he doing here?" He spits. 

    Uh-oh, the quiet and cute Harry is gone. To replace him, guarded and mean Harry. "He's just a friend, Harry. He was over here looking for Niall," I touch Harry's shoulders, and this time he doesn't pull away. "Please calm down."

   "So you just invited him in for a good chat and a movie? Bullshit."

   "Harry!" I say, beginning to get just as angry. "He's just a friend. In fact, I barely even know him! I met him at the paty just the same as when I met--" I realize what I'm about to say. I barely know Harry really. I only met him two weeks ago. I start to get nervous. What if I'm jumping into this too fast?

    Harry seems to catch on as well. "If you're thinking we're moving too fast, you're probably right. Maybe we shouldn't try at all." He shrugs on his jacket and pulls out his keys. 

    "No, please!" I know I sound like a desperate girl right now, but the only constant in my life right now is the crazy man about to leave me. I tug on his arms, trying not to let any tears fall. I never cry, and certainly not over some boy.