Hitlist | h.s

Twenty-one

My palms clammed with sweat, a thin layer of the salty liquid beading at the bridge of my nose as my nerves heightened. I wiped my hands across the length of the dark wash jeans clad to my thighs, seeing the way Harry squirmed as he thought of what to say.

"My room?" He weakly smiled, the gesture not reaching up to crinkle the edges of his hollow eyes. Reluctantly, he stumbled towards me, hand outstretched as he waited for me to grab it. I cautiously took hold of him, the sensation tingling the skin of my fingers intertwined with his.

"Arielle," Louis called out before Harry could drag me into his bedroom.

"Y-yes?"

He just nodded, a light smile pulling at the edge of his lips as he silently apologized. The action was small, but knowing Louis from years ago, it was big for him to so easily forget what had happened between us the other day.

"It's okay, Lou," I faintly grinned back, accepting his wordless offer relating to how he had been treating me as of recently. We silently, mentally, of course, signed a peace treaty to end our one-sided war of hateful words.

"Go," the boy harshly ordered, not being so quick to forgive Harry for whatever he had revealed before I arrived. Harry sucked in a huge breath, tugging me towards the warmth of the bright room at the end of the hallway. His huge hand delicately squeezed mine after he had sat me on the bed. His body stiffened, remaining upright to pace around the room thoughtfully.

"Harry..." I trailed off, my confusion and nerves spiking with every jittery step he took. The way his sock collided to the floor with every motion, how the tattered hole in his dark jeans opened with every knee bend -- he didn’t even have to talk to make me feel uneasy. All it took to worry me was for him to simply walk like he was.

"I knew her," he blurted out suddenly, hands flying up to tug at the darkness of his hair. His pacing froze and his back erected, leaning stiffly against the wall across from me.

"You knew wh-"

"Adrianna. I knew her."

His eyes widened, mirroring the expression pieced together over my own awestruck face.

"Y... you..."

"I knew your sister before she... passed away," he choked, the words paining him just as much as they did me. Just the mere sound of her name caused an uproar inside of me, emotions stabbing at my sanity like daggers.

The room clouded, vertigo fully consuming my body like the furious seas pulling you out at high tide. The more I tried to retreat back to the land which was my composure, the farther out the waves would pull me. It was too much for me to handle, my stomach contorting as he steadily watched me, the features of his face meshed in angst.

"What d... do you mean?" I tried to catch my breath, water soaking my eyes before threatening to roll down my burning cheeks. Everything was wrong. There was no plausible reason or way Harry could possibly know my sister.

"We were... close. Be-before..." Harry violently shook, letting out a violent, agonizing yell as his fist collided to the wall, the thud echoing through the minimalistic room. “Before what happened.”

"Harry," I cried, raising quickly to grab his wound up arm before he could ram his fist again. "Stop!"

Mindfully, I tried to calm him down, muttering encouragements to the shaken boy as I sat him on the bed where I had been poised. The skin pulled over his chin dimpled with the trembling of his lip, calloused hands tremoring in anger. Soothingly, I rubbed my hand over the length of his back, waiting until he simmered down.