crumble | h.s

part thirty four

Lydia White

Harry was like a figment of my imagination.

Our whole relationship, whatever it was, seemed like something pulled straight out of my wildest dreams.

It happened so fast...falling for him, I mean.

I know how cheesy it sounds, but it was like fate brought us together. I met him in a random alley way...and we continued to cross paths afterwards.

I just don't think it could be justified as a coincidence anymore.

We were driving down the highway now, towards a destination that Harry had picked out for or date. I was wearing the same dress from the night of the party, because I didn't have many fancy options. Harry was in all black, wearing a button up black shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tattoos were exposed on his arms and his chest, where two of the buttons remained unbuttoned.

He looked really good.

He wasn't telling me where we were going. We couldn't just go to a restaurant, or movie, or anything like that because we couldn't risk being seen right now.

So, I had no idea where he had in mind.

I never realized how long this highway is. I've been on it with Harry a handful of times, but this time we were going in the opposite direction. We've been driving for a good 20 minutes on this straight stretch of asphalt.

"Where is this place?" I ask, folding my hands in my lap.

"I told you it's a surprise." Harry smirks.

"Well, how much longer?" I question, growing more and more eager.

Harry chuckles as he watched the road. "Not much longer, Lyds, I promise."

I was actually relieved to leave the house, even if it was only for a little. Not even 24 hours ago, Harry and I were attacked in the middle of the night, so it felt good to step out for a little while.

I was trying really hard to just push what happened last night out of my head. It was difficult to deal with, especially because I've never gone through anything that extreme in my entire life. Everytime I thought about it, my stomach churned.

I couldn't really tell how Harry was feeling. If he was upset about it, he was putting up a good front because he seemed perfectly okay. But, the thing is, what happened to us wasn't an 'okay' situation. I knew that it had to be bothering him deep down in some way or another.

"Harry?" I say softly.

"Mhm." he mumbles, keeping his focus ahead of him playing with his lip.

"How are you...doing?" I ask awkwardly.

"What do you mean?" he furrows his brow.

"About last night." I say abruptly, making him swallow a lump in his throat.

"I...I don't know." he pulls on his lip.

"Well, are you okay?" I question.

He hesitates slightly before answering, "Am I okay with what happened? No." he starts, sighing. "But last night could have gone so many different ways..."

"Yeah, but-"

"He had us right where he wanted us. They could have killed us right there...or worse, we could've both been captured and tortured until we were wishing we were dead." he cuts me off.

I shutter in the passenger seat. The thought of those things happening to us makes me sick.

"So, because we're both sitting here...alive, I'm trying to just be okay with that part of it." Harry finishes. I nod in agreement.