TRIGGER WARNING: panic attack
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" always in my head space "
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aurora astor.
There are just some of those days, you know?
I couldn't go back to sleep last night after the images that ran through my head, I nearly threw up from the thoughts alone. So I ended up staring up at the blank ceiling, letting my mind race and my heartache.
Today is just a bad day when you don't quite feel like yourself or just you feel the weight of your problems a little more than normal.
For any ordinary person, these days come in waves – you have a healthy mix of good days and bad days.
The trauma really did fuck me up, Kian. These said bad days are just normality – a constant in my life. So on days like these, the true weight of all this emotional stress on my life radiates a more prominent pain than normal.
It allows leeway for one of the most dreadful feelings to ever exist – weakness.
I feel weak today under the battles in my head. So to remedy this as I always do, I've been going at this punching bag in front of me for hours this slow morning.
My body covered head to toe in sweat, just in dire need to feel strong again. I'm trying to feel strong, I need to feel it. This weakness shit irks my soul, it makes my gut wrench and makes me feel disgusted with myself even though it shouldn't.
Nevertheless, my physical threshold is met and I throw my final punch to this leather bag filled with sand in the middle of the empty gym.
My body sinks into the squishy gym mats and I layout. I audibly groan and pant fast as I try to catch my own breath in the middle of the floor, coughing lightly try to regain my breathing. I just lay out like a star and stare up at the ceiling while my chest rises and falls in choppy breaths.
I scoff at the war in my mind and I roll over, reaching over to grab my phone from my duffle to pat around for it. Pulling out the device, I lay back with a sigh on my side. I click it on and my screen lights up, squinting at the bright light and scrolling through my phone on my side while the music blares through the small gym.
My fingers freeze when I see a particular article making headlines this morning. My breath comes to a stop in my throat with a fresh gloss forming over my eyes to blur the bright screen in front of me.
I gulp whilst my teary eyes scan the words:
'Kian Fitzgerald, the 22-year-old student at the University of Chicago, dies in a sudden car crash.'
My stomach twists into sickening knots and I stare in pure shock. I blink a few times, feeling the single tears run over the bridge of my nose and hit the mat. I wipe them away faster than ever, groaning and throwing my phone over to the bag.
I cover my face with my hands and I scream. I legitimately scream as loud as I can and it rips through my chest with the pain in me for it to just accompany the 70s rock pounding against the walls. I exhale a sort of sob that produces a prominent sting at my sinuses, tempting me to just completely break.
But I force myself to hold in this pain before I break.
Weak–
There goes a wasted boxing session.
I take a second, not giving myself any more time and pulling it together. I let that numbness cascade over me like it always does with the lingering pain weighing down in my chest and in the back of my throat. Nonetheless, I have to lift my sore body up – I have quite the day for myself.
I pull the tape off my knuckles and sniffle, reaching for my sweatpants to pull them up to my legs. I tug my hoodie on over my head to encase my body in a soft warmth over my own radiating body heat. I grab my duffle and slip my shoes on, twirling the keys around my finger whilst I head out of the gym with a light sniffle.
I push open the front door and the cold air hits me like a brick wall. I lock up Lou's gym before walking away down the pavement. I pull my hood up like I always do as I rummage out my smokes, fishing one out and sticking it in between my lips whilst momentarily freezing on the barren sidewalk to pull out my lighter.
I cup the end in the cold, burning it for the cigarette smoke to fill my lungs and soothe my anxious state today. I resume walking the short distance back to my apartment while letting my feet lead the way through muscle memory.
I bring the cigarette up to my lips, sucking in the potent smoke before I pull the filter back. I tap the ashes off the end as I breathe out the harmful substance. I rub my temple with my thumb as my smoke forms in a little cloud in front of me with the condensation of my breath in the cold. I sniffle, taking another drag of this white stick before flicking it onto the pavement and the orange glow at the cherry fades out.
I glance down the sidewalk to see the very spot Ki got shot cold by the same guy that gave me the best orgasms of my life.
What the fuck–
I look away quickly, blinking a few times to snap out of it and not letting myself fall captive to an even more torturous state of mind. I push the metal door open to the hollow stairwell, jogging up the stairs. My arms burn and feel like jello from the workout this morning.
I glance down at the time, cursing under my breath. I have somewhere I have to be today and I'm absolutely dreading it.
I get into my apartment, seeing my dining table, and another memory flashes back. I instantly push the thought away quickly before I dwell on it for too long again, knowing damn well that I've already spent a good majority thinking about it.
I drop my bag down on the ground, pulling my shoes off before quickly heading through my apartment to start up the shower for it to warm up. I don't bother to shut the bathroom door as I tug off my clothes and untangle my hair tie from my messy hair.
I step into the shower under the scalding water and the condensed steam encases this small space. I wash my body down, scrubbing my scalp and my hand stops for a second.
My fingertips linger on the light pain across my neck and my fingers graze the spot as I blissfully shut my eyes with the water streaming over my face and down my body. That very thought that I tried to push back comes circling right back to me. I feel his lips on my skin all over again with his rough hands – treating me like I wasn't weak.
I groan at myself and the ridiculous thoughts, pulling my hand off the sensitive spot and washing the conditioner out of my hair. I sniffle, turning the water off for the fan to persist louder through the quiet. I step out of the tub, wrapping a fluffy towel around my body and hearing the showerhead dripping quietly.
I walk over to open up my medicine cabinet and pull out my hairbrush. Pumping out some of the product for my curly hair, I run my fingers through it to scrunch in the coconut-smelling product. I brush out my hair, wash my hands, and quickly do my makeup lightly in the mirror. I make sure to cover the bruise on my jaw with a concealer and do the rest of my makeup routine for tiresome days like this.
I walk out of the bathroom, shutting the lights off and pulling open my dresser to grab a tight black turtleneck and a pair of straight-leg jeans. I head over to my closet, opening it up and ignoring the crime scene that regurgitated in here to pull on my oversized leather jacket and loop a belt to accentuate my waist.
I pull my hair out of the back, checking in the mirror to make sure that my neck is covered right by the fabric.
I glance at myself in the mirror and sigh at what I see. I simply walk away from the sight and right back through my apartment again.
Pulling my backpack on over my shoulders while swiping my keys and phone, I tug my vans on and I head out again. I take a deep breath as I go down the stairs. I push the door open, walking out into the cold again.
I shiver a little involuntarily from my cold wet hair and I swallow, heading down the sidewalk. Mainly just toying with the strap on my backpack since I can't have a smoke to keep my nerves together again whilst I slide past people on the pavement to get to the main road at the diner.
My phone buzzes and I slide it out of the back pocket of my jeans, noticing Jules calling. I have a feeling I know already what this is about. I click the green button to accept the incoming call and press the device up against my ear as I continue to walk.
"Hey," I mutter into the phone and I hear her sigh.
"God- Rory, I just heard, babe," Jules says and I can only manage to hum.
"Yeah, I heard this morning," I tell her as I get closer to the curb.
"Are you alright? Want to come over?" Jules asks and I laugh under my breath.
"I'd love to but I'm heading to see Charlie right now," I say and she hums, going quiet for a second and it makes me huff under my breath. "Monthly visit." I remind her and she hums again in realization through the line.
"Right, right–" she exclaims and I laugh a little. "Do you like her?" She asks me and I walk up to the curb, taking a breath as my stomach does nervous flips and holding up my arm. My body nearly having a nervous break from this alone.
"Yeah, she's sweet and understanding ..." I mutter, intently watching a cab stop for me.
I gulp, walking over to pull the door in and slide into the backseat. I pull the phone back for a second so I can mutter the address to the man driving. I squish the phone back to my ear to distract me from this.
"Great qualities." Jules jokes and I shake my head as I stare down at my lap. I attempt to say something but a voice in the background cuts me off and I clamp my lips shut.
"Hi, babe, who is it–" I hear Lou. I start laughing, my hand clamps over my mouth as Jules groans.
"It's Rory, dumbass," Jules argues with him from the other side of the phone and I smile.
"Hi, Aurora," Lou exclaims into the phone and I cringe, picking at my nail beds to further distract myself.
"What do you want for breakfast?" Lou asks her and I snort.
"You know it's like 3 in the afternoon?" I mutter and Jules groans, the realization hitting me hard like a slap across the face and I slowly laugh.
"You little shits, you've been fucking all morning–" I start and Jules snaps at me.
"No, no, no–" she begins and I shake my head.
"That was a good attempt, babe." I laugh and she groans again, confirming my answer for me.
"Shush, text me when you get home?" She asks and I hum with a light laugh, nodding to myself.
"Yeah, bye, love you," I tell her and she replies with the same before we hang up together and I breathe out an exhale.
I rub my palms along my jeans as the distraction seemed to have stretched out the short car ride across the city. I get out of the cab as quickly as I always do.
Shutting the door and stepping onto the curb, I walk up to the building and push open the glass doors to the pristine lobby. I know my way around the building after the many monthly visits, I'm still unsure of why I come to this other than Jules thinking the therapy was something I needed.
I get into the elevator, letting it take me up to the floor and stepping out to the carpeted floors. The woman at the front reception desk looks up and I softly smile in return. I walk over and she gets up. "Aurora Astor?" She asks and I nod.
"She's waiting down the hall for you, you know which one it is." She says and I smile, thanking her as I walk past the desk. I head down the hallway with the closed white doors on either side of this brightly lit hallway in this clinic.
I get to the one, seeing her name plastered on the door and I knock.
"Come in!" I hear her soft voice and I push the door open, stepping into the comforting, brightly colored room. Comfortable couch and chairs, with lots and lots of bright colors whilst becoming prisoner to the color psychology regurgitated into this room.
She smiles, her head of orange hair lifts, and her brown eyes set on me as I grin. I walk over and she opens up her welcoming arms. I laugh a little, accepting the embrace as she hums sweetly.
"It's been some time, how are you?" She asks, pulling back from the warm embrace as she just exudes this joy that seems unattainable to me. I walk over, taking my backpack off and sitting down on the comfy couch. She props her legs up on the coffee table to get comfortable.
"I'm good," I tell her, and she gives me a side-eye as she sets up her laptop on her lap. "Honestly, it's been better, Charlie," I tell her because my coping methods have changed, sort of.
"Let's start with your day today?" She asks and I hum, leaning back as I put my hands in my lap, playing with my fingers.
"Well, my friend died from a car crash today and I found out this morning," I say, even though that's not the full truth of it.
She tries to hide her shock at my bluntness as I just sweetly smiled at her. She shakes her head lightly whilst breathing out a soft raspberry, typing on her laptop to hear the clicking resound through the place.
As if this wasn't nerve-wracking alone, that incessant typing puts me even more on edge.
"M'sorry, sweetie." She says and I swallow down the lump in my throat, shrugging a little.
"Is it bad to say I'm used to it?" I ask and she sighs, looking up at me and shaking her head.
"How do you feel about it? How did you react this morning?" She asks, managing to nearly make me laugh but I scratch the side of my head.
"I boxed," I tell her and her eyebrow goes up as she hums.
That ... and smoking through endless packs of cigarettes, fighting at exclusive underground fight clubs, and drinking until I'm wasted.
"That's something you've been doing more of?"
"Yeah, it helps," I tell her, and she continues typing which only makes me slightly more anxious.
"Helps with ... ?" She wants me to finish and I bite the inside of my cheek.
"Focusing my emotions on something singularly? If that makes sense ... like being able to let them out, it's a relief in a way." I tell her and her lips turn up.
"That's really good, Rory." She praises me and my lips curl up as well, not giving her the full truth but knowing she's believing this.
What the hell am I doing with my life if I'm lying to a person that's only trying to help me?
"Anything else?" She asks me and I think about it for a second.
"I've taken cab rides by myself," I say and she smiles at me even more.
"Have you driven–" she starts and I stop her abruptly at the mere thought, shaking my head.
"No," I say quickly and she hums.
"Have you tried?" She asks me and I stare at the bright colors on her walls, shaking my head.
"I don't have a car," I mutter as my excuse. She clicks her tongue while the more this goes on, the more my headaches.
"The cab rides are good progress." I look back over to her in confusion as she nods at me for reassurance. "Uhm- let's talk medication." She says and I nod as she waits for my answer.
"I've been taking it normally." I lie through my fucking teeth. "It helps," I say and she stares for a second.
But medicine has always been this gray area to me. There's the kind that I've seen my mom take and synthetically become happier and there's the kind getting handed out along the streets that does the same. It's all about that singular emotion of happiness or feeling of bliss, the constant battle to try and attain that feeling that everyone fantasizes about. But the truth is: it's only temporary and it's addictive – I've seen both.
And it genuinely scares me.
But life has been a series of risks that I keep taking because like I said before: I have nothing to lose anymore.
It's that mix of desperation and hopelessness that can bring out the worst in people, where thresholds only become barriers that need to be crossed.
"You've been sleeping alright?" She says to snap me out of my thoughts. I bite the inside of my cheek and I nod for her.
"The valerian root helps as you said," I tell her, internally smirking, and she smiles softly.
"Have you had bad nights this week?" She asks and my skin heats up the more and more we talk about this.
"Some ..." I say and she keeps her soft eyes on me.
"Okay ... you wake up from one and what do you do?" She asks, tilting her head slightly for my answer.
"Well ... I'm kind of out of it but I'll do that counting trick," I say and she nods approvingly at me. "It takes me a second to realize I'm back but it works," I say with a shrug and she nods.
"Any other triggered attacks this month?" She asks and I gulp, shaking my head because I truly don't think I've had myself a proper panic attack in a while.
Is that concerning?
"No ..." I say in my own realization and she smiles at me.
"That's really good." She consoles me and I hum as she exhales, looking like she's thinking for a second. "Anything else bothering you?" She asks me and I hold the back of my neck, squeezing the muscles and pinching nerves that are stressing out over revealing this to her.
"Uh- I've had these weird moments." I try to explain it and she just sits there and listens. "Like I'll be sitting at the diner or in the middle of class and I just zone out and get flashes of all of it. It almost feels like I'm not in my body anymore. Then something will pull me out of it or it will just fade away." I mutter and her eyebrows go up as she types on her laptop.
"There's actually a name for it ..." she says and I nod, listening to her. "It's called dissociating ... there's a lack of continuity between thoughts, memories, surroundings, and actions. You feel detached from your environment, the people around you, and your body?" She puts it perfectly into words, regurgitating a textbook into my ears. I nod at her, biting the inside of my cheek and she hums.
"It's completely common with PTSD, it becomes a problem when you get pulled to dissociating at inappropriate times." She says and I furrow my eyebrows together.
"But I can't control it," I say and she nods in understanding.
"The medication should be helping with that ..." she gives me a quizzical look and I bite the inside of my cheek harder. "But all in all, you have to ground yourself like you do when you have one of your attacks," Charlie says and I run my fingers through my hair.
"Taking care of your body, your mind, doing the exercises we've been through, taking your meds ... they all play a role." She says and I exhale under my breath as I nod at her and she softly smiles back.
"Tell me more about it, what do you do after?" She asks me and I stare at my fingers.
"Most days, I'll box ..." I say, glancing up at her and she nods. "But others, I'll go visit," I say, being hesitant about it because I don't like talking about this.
It's making me sick to my stomach.
"Tell me about those days." She requests and my mind curses at her for it. I gulp down my emotions swirling inside of me from this shit day.
"I go down the street to the flower shop, get sunflowers, and just visit. I talk sometimes but most of the time I'll just lay there." I admit to her. She nods at me, shutting her laptop and I look at her funny as she sets it down on the coffee table, pulling her full attention to me.
"Why sunflowers?" She asks and I softly smile at her and she returns it while propping her elbow up on the armrest of her chair and listening.
"Uh–" I laugh to myself, smiling a little at the memory. "My mom's name is Soleil, it means sun," I mutter and she hums. "And they named me Aurora, which means dawn ..." I say and her eyes light up.
"Also involving the sun ..." she says and I nod slowly.
"So my dad would get sunflowers for us, it just became a ritual of the sorts and they meant a lot to my parents." I smile to myself. "He'd get sunflowers when they had a fight or something, on her birthdays, or just to make her happy when he knew she wasn't having a good day," I say, feeling my gut wrench and she smiles at me as I blink away the stinging tears from my eyes.
"That's incredibly sweet." She mutters and I smile back, nodding.
"Yeah," I mutter, the sudden pain washes over me again. The guilt replaces a positive connotation for those memories.
"That is all we have time for today ..." she says and I thank god.
I shake out the rattled thoughts, pulling my backpack on and I walk over to her to hug her. "I missed you, I'm really proud of you, sweetie." She says near my ear and my face scrunches up.
"Thanks," I mumble. I pull back, seeing her smile at me and returning it. I head over to the door, pulling it open to the barren hallway.
"I'll see you next month?" She asks and I nod, waving to her. She blows me a kiss as she leans on the doorframe. I smile, turning around and heading down the hall to the front desk to schedule the next appointment before leaving.
As soon as I get downstairs and out of this building, I gulp in a soft exhale of oxygen for my chest to expand fully. I fumble around my pockets for a damn cigarette with my hands shaking ever so slightly.
I hate this fucking shit.
I hate feeling like this all the damn time.
I stick the white stick in between my lips, cupping the end to light it, and the immediate relief washes over me. The potent smoke calms my nerves as I've used it as a coping mechanism for so long that I've grown accustomed to it. I pull the stick back in between my fingers while I walk over to the curb and my stomach continues to twist as I hail a cab.
I gently breathe out smoke into the cold air with a light sniffle as my eyes water from the dry air. A yellow car pulls up and I slide in, mentioning the diner's location and I roll the window a little to tap the ashes out the window.
I pinch my eyes shut while I take long drags of this cigarette and I stare down at my lap. I attempt to shake this feeling by centering in on my thoughts but I can't, not as long as I'm in this moving vehicle.
The cab pulls up to the curb and I get out quickly, shutting the door behind me and stepping up onto the curb. I drop the end of my cigarette, squishing the end and breathing out the last of the tobacco smoke.
I pass by people on the sidewalk to walk right into the diner, the warmth and the comforting smell of food surround me immediately. I wave to Jenny, putting a smile on my face and she waves back. I sit in my usual spot right next to the large window. I pull my backpack off, watching Jenny swing back to my table quickly and I breathe out a laugh.
"Coffee? Fries?" She asks me and I smile.
"Both, please," I tell her and she nods before walking away.
I pull my phone and headphones out then untangle the wires and stick the headphone jack into my phone. I tuck the buds into my ears and hit shuffle on my music before I rub my eyes. I curse to myself when I realize I probably just smudged my makeup.
The soft music fills my ears, zoning out the rest of the world.
I pull my laptop out, tying in the password. I drive myself into my work while the sun sets outside, coating the diner in an orange glow. Jenny slides the coffee and fries onto my table. I thank her before she sweetly smiles, walking away to help other people.
I grab the cup, swirling the straw in the black iced coffee and sipping on it like some kind of narcotic relief to my system. I stare at the fries, picking at them and not even finding them appetizing today with the gut-wrenching feeling in my stomach lingering still.
I find myself drifting out yet again, involuntarily staring at my laptop screen as it becomes a blur of bright light.
Too much fucking death, this isn't fucking normal.
My fault – my brain repeats over and over to really drive the idea home as if I didn't already know it.
I blink a few times, inhaling as I realize that I'm here at the diner. I'm here.
I look up, evoking a startled jump out of me. My heart slams in my chest while I put my hands over my heated face. None other than Harry sitting right there.
"Fuck! Harry–" I flusteredly snap at him, slumping back into the booth and hearing him breathe out a light laugh as all my blood rushes to the surface of my cheeks.
I just breathe deeply, trying to snap out of the fight-or-flight response that simply kicked in from him just sitting there.
"How long have you been sitting there?" I ask, pulling my hands off my beet-red face and tugging my headphones out.
He's looking at me differently, probably because we fucked.
"Like a minute or two ..." he mutters, his deep voice sends chills through my blood.
I take in his tired green eyes and messy curls tucked under a hot pink beanie today as he sits back in a dark hoodie. His rings at his knuckles on his large hands as he picks at my fries. "You do that a lot, you know." He mutters whilst he chews and I shake my head.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I lie and he hums, feeling the awkwardness from this as I huff. "Don't make it awkward," I mutter to him and his lips curl up slightly as I smile back.
"You're not upset that I left like that?" He asks and I genuinely laugh at him. His eyebrows crease together at my odd reaction.
"I couldn't care less," I say, honestly though because I didn't expect anything from anyone.
He just hums, looking at me for a minute longer with a glimmer of a look in his eyes.
His eyes flicker down to my neck and it sends me back a few nights ago. His lips curl up just slightly at my turtleneck while he chews my fries, defining his jaw and his pink lips in that most perfectly stupid smile.
The night flashes by yet again in vivid images of his soft lips against my neck. His goddamn hands and the contrast of the cold rings that never leave his fingers. The art that adorns his body under the fabric of that hoodie in the most perfect way, he truly is art in every way.
But these flashes leave as fast as they come, I blink a few times to get rid of them.
"Did he fuck you like that, Ace?" He decides to throw in the dead ex like that, watching that ridiculous smirk form on his face. I groan, letting my forehead hit the table with a thud as he chuckles through his nose at himself.
I exhale sharply, pulling myself together before I strangle the five-year-old sitting across from me.
I lift my head up from the table to the smirk gracing his lips and I shake my head in disbelief.
"You're a sick fuck, you know that?" I mutter, sitting up a little more again. He chuckles, reaching for my coffee and sniffing lightly before sipping on it. My lips curl up in a stifled laugh as he shakes his head at the lack of trust between the both of us.
"I know, baby." He says sarcastically. "At least I proved you wrong." He smirks with his straight teeth on display. I just shake my head as he sips on my coffee through the straw with his fingers wrapped around the cup. Those initials glitter along his bruised knuckles as if he needed more for his ego to walk around with his own initials on himself in gold.
"And–" I start, my eyes drift back up from his quite beautiful hands that do some great work.
His eyes meet mine across the table in the dim light over this booth, the dark city just on the other side of this glass next to us. "How did you manage to make his death a car accident?" I ask and he huffs. His chest deflates as he licks his lips before he presses them together.
"Why? Do you have any murders you need to cover up, Ace?" He asks me with amusement in his eyes and I roll my own, shaking my head at him with a scoff.
"Yours, very soon," I mutter and he snorts at me, making me glance up at him from the text message that just lit up my phone screen.
"Really? You'd do that for me?" He bashes sweetly and my lips actually twitch up a little as I chuckle through my nose.
"Of course, just give me a time and place, baby," I reply back to see his smile grow tenfold.
"You can try." He murmurs and I narrow my eyes at him as he continues to sip my coffee.
"Do you really follow me around all day, stalker?" I ask, tilting my head to look at him. He breathes out a laugh at me. I drink in those dimples and his tongue against the back of his teeth as he snickers, it sends a weird feeling through my body that I quickly shake away. He rubs the tip of his nose with his fist to bring himself down from the case of laughs.
"You're a very boring person." He says and I scoff yet again as he smiles at me.
"You don't even know me," I tell him. He just manages to hum back in response, sipping at my coffee through the straw.
I knit my eyebrows together as I stare at him and decide on asking him something in hopes of somewhat of a response. "Harry?" I mutter even though he's right in front of me, my brain's having that kind of day.
He laughs at me, nodding a little, and I lean into the table. "Can you tell me about M?" I ask, genuinely and he freezes, his teeth bite at my straw. I stare at him, biting the inside of my own cheek.
"What?" He snaps at me and I nod slowly.
"M?" I ask and he scoffs a little, forcing my eyebrows to tug together.
"Why?" He asks harshly without any remorse, his jaw flexes lightly. I just shake my head in defeat, exhaling under my breath as I lean back against the booth cushion.
"Forget it," I mutter and he stares for a second before rolling his eyes.
"What do you want to know?" He says and my lips tug up into a smile as his eyes stay on me.
"I don't know ... like how you filter it through the city without getting caught?" I try, getting a little too excited, and he chuckles obnoxiously at me as if my question was that absurd.
"This is what I'm talking about: you're being dumb for even asking about shit you shouldn't be." He says and I groan.
"Harry, please." I use it against him now and it makes me smirk slightly as he simply squints a little at me.
"Why?" He asks me and I think about a good excuse for a second.
"My research paper?" I tell him and he pinches the bridge of his nose, grumbling under his breath and I breathe out a light laugh.
"Your excuses are shit, Ace." He mutters and I smile at him as he blinks his eyes back open and he looks up at me.
"I can't say, baby." He sighs at me and I huff. The blank expression on his face makes me shake my head at him.
"Then tell me something else I don't already know? You obviously know what you're putting out there, none of those people on the news even know what it is." I say and he hums.
"It's like a mix of molly and acid, they make most in red pills but some of it is powder and it's stronger." He says and my lips part in a little shock that he just answered one of my questions.
"And how did you make it?" I ask him and he laughs at me loudly, making me squint my eyes at him.
"I didn't make it, we get it shipped ... the drug's from Europe." He tells me more and I bite the inside of my cheek, having no idea how this helps me or what to do with the novel information.
"But it's new ..." I mutter, looking at him for answers and he hums, nodding at me.
"To the states ... it was floating around Europe first." He says so vaguely and casually that he has international relations with this gang and I swallow down the lump in my throat.
"Why?" That is my only question and he shakes his head at me.
"That's my question to you ... you shouldn't be asking around about this stuff." He mutters again and I huff as I pull my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on my kneecap as I hug my legs tight to myself. He just stares at me, picking at my fries still as I attempt to think of more questions.
"Are you going to answer me?" He asks annoyed with my lack of response and I look up at him, noticing his jaw flexing as he chews.
"I'm curious?" I mutter and drag the end of the sentence up with my tone of voice, sounding more like a question than a statement, and his eyebrow quirks up.
"That right there is going to get you killed, Ace." He says so bluntly again. I don't even react to it, he notices as well and I brush it off.
"What did you drug me with?" He asks to change the subject, not coldly this time but genuinely with the seriousness coated over his features. I didn't realize the weight of my actions until the deed was done and I exhale at my stupidity.
"Valerian root," I tell him and he stares at me blankly, just blinking his pretty eyes at me in confusion. "It has sedative properties, my uhm- doctor recommended it for sleep," I mumble to him and he breathes out a slight laugh, shaking his head and he casually cracks his knuckles for relief.
"Not that you would ... but you didn't do any weird shit–" he starts and I cut him off so fast.
Did he feel the need to ask? Did I really come off as that untrustworthy?
"I would never, Harry, I swear ... I'm so sorry," I tell him as genuinely as I can. His lips curl up into a sweet smile.
"Apology accepted, baby." He grins with that dimple inventing itself on his cheek. He even looks quite precious with the pink beanie on his head and wisps of his curls peeking out.
"Would you honestly think I'd do something like that?" I ask in all genuinity and he's quick to shake his head.
"No, I- you just never know–" he says vaguely, seeing him stare down at his rings and it makes me want to know more, this odd dynamic between us becoming something worthwhile in my brain.
I feel a little relief from it while I simply just nod, trying to read what just washed over him but that task is far too impossible.
"Heard you won?" He says to change the oddly heavy topic. I'm pretty sure I remember telling him I did before shit hit the fan last time but my spirits lift in the slightest as I nod.
"You're always underestimating me," I say and he smirks at my words as my stomach does this weird flip when his green eyes meet mine under the dim diner glow. "Can I ask why you're still stalking me by the way? It's been weeks ..." I chime in and he hums.
"Just because shit hasn't happened yet doesn't mean it won't." He states and I swallow hard, my mind already beginning to swirl.
"Like what?" I ask him and he shakes his head.
"Being an idiot and getting yourself involved in this fucked up world, you're putting a target on your own back." He states words I've heard before, from him most likely.
"I still don't get–" I start but I get cut off so swiftly when glasses shatter on the ground somewhere in the diner and my mind goes on red alert.
I put my hands over my ears out of instinct and my lungs contract in my chest as my heart slams.
"Fuck–" I choke out, pinching my eyes shut as my breathing picks up with my quickening heartbeat.
I watch images flash through my head at an incredulous pace. I whimper at the pain in my chest cavity, a presence joins next to me. My breathing shallows and my lungs work faster than I can keep up with.
And it is so painful, it hurts, it hurts–
"Fuck's sake–" I hear Harry before his hesitant arms wrap around me. I softly whimper, feeling the moisture prick in my eyes as my breaths come out choppy and I genuinely panic – like this is happening all over again.
"No, no–" I mutter and his arm cradles my head, pulling it tight against his chest with my body shaking against his.
He doesn't say a word as he holds me tight to his warm body, resting his chin on top of my head and encasing me in him.
I press my hands tighter over my ears as the world begins to spin, my heart thumping in my ears fast as I hear the–
–glass shatters while I'm not in control of my car anymore. It goes skidding across the empty intersection from the sheer impact.
My head spins as it slams into the window on my left. I scream as the car goes tumbling over, flipping and I have no idea what's really happening.
The world spins on its axis is an odd sensation, to say the least, my body is jolted every which way in the restraints of this fucking seat belt. The road in front of me spins and the beam lights of the other cars waiting patiently at the traffic light blind me as the car slams into the ground.
My body jolts, strapped in just by the seat belt across my chest and lap, as my head slams into the steering wheel and a scream rips through my chest. The glass rains all over my body and tears stream down my face at the pain radiating through every part of me.
The car wobbles to a halt upside down, all the blood rushes to my head and my eyelids feel heavy. My ears ring incessantly and I choke on literal air whilst my arms dangle over my head. My hair hangs upside down with my necklace slips off my neck to land in the pile of shattered glass on the roof of the car.
My lungs seize up and spasm at the panic running through me.
"Shh, Ace, you have to breathe." He mutters into my ear. I hiccup on air, whimpering at the pressure building in my chest. His hand splayed against the side of my head, over my own hand covering my ear as he holds my shaking body strongly to his.
The moment replays in my head over and over. I choke on air in the middle of this diner with Harry's arms wrapped around my body.
"You're not there, you're here, baby." He whispers into my ear. I hiccup on more air that doesn't seem to be my friend at the given moment, focusing on his voice because it's pulling me out of the moment.
His voice alone sends nostalgia through every inch of my body.
I'm still slightly shaking with my body is covered in a cold sweat and my heart thunders in my chest.
His fingers weave into my hair, scrunching his fingers against my scalp and this comfort is so unbelievably foreign to me. He drags his fingers along my scalp and his thumb presses down to my temple to relieve the immense pressure and a soft exhale leaves my lips at the blissful sensation.
I start counting under my breath because I don't know what else to do to calm myself down. "20 ... 19 ... 18 ..." I mutter to myself as he stays silent and I pinch my eyes shut. I take a few deep breaths, pulling myself back to reality at the sound of his voice.
"Atta girl," He coaxes me quietly. I hiccup in a breath as I inhale for my back to jolt in his arms, forcing me to groan and he laughs softly.
I swallow the lump in my throat, gently pulling my hands off my ears and the world resumes itself. The chatter from the diner fills my ears and I blink my blurry eyes open a few times.
I notice his straight blue jeans and the familiar keys clipped around a hot pink carabiner. Then my eyes drag over to the sleeve of his hoodie exposing the tattoos on his skin as he holds my head to his chest.
My headrests in the crook of his neck with the inviting cologne of vanilla and hints of tobacco from the cigarettes he smokes. His right arm wraps around my waist, resting his large hand on my hip over my jeans with his finger tucked under the belt loop.
I realize that he's shielding me from the rest of the diner.
I manage to look up, seeing his eyebrows knit together as his jade eyes look down at me. His green eyes drag back and forth across my face to attempt to read me.
I snap out this false reality so fast, never feeling more embarrassed.
"Shit–" I breathe out and he looks at me in confusion and I push his hands off of me.
"Ace–" he starts and I cut him off swiftly, my mind spins and feels airy.
"No, stop, stop." I frantically slide my laptop into my backpack. I rummage out my wallet as my shaking hands struggle to pull money out and I pray he doesn't take notice of that. I throw the twenty on the table, tossing my wallet back into my backpack and I push him.
"Move, I have to go." I snap at him and he scoffs lightly but moves nevertheless as I slide out and he gets up, being so much taller than me with his jeans cuffed at the bottoms.
"Don't tell anyone, please, I don't know who you'd tell but don't please, just- sorry–" I stop myself before I embarrass myself even more.
I take a step back from him as I drop my head back down to the floor and brush past him. I exhale under my breath as I push the diner door open and let the cold air hit my face like a much-needed slap in the face.
I inhale it greedily, rubbing at my face and needing to scream again but I don't have the opportunity at the given moment.
I just need to get back to my apartment because I have this pit forming in my stomach – the idea of letting someone see a side of me that I haven't shown to anyone is picking away at my soul.
It's scary.
---
hey, guys!
please don't be like rory. take your meds and take care of yourselves :)
love always, han