Time seemed to slow down. Was that possible? It felt like it now, because everything moved in a blur.
The pain of my hand had even numbed for a second, I swam in the feeling. Why had it hurt? Why was it purple? Why was there two men brawling on the ground in a haze? Was that even real?
It only took another second for time to crash down, it came bustling over me, screeched down and came to a halt. When my senses came back, when the adrenaline left, it was then that everything started to move as it normally did. That was when I'd heard it.
"You fucking cunt."
The growl was so loud it pulled me right out of the daze I'd been sucked into. My head turned instantly, eyes hovering over the spectacle happening before me. And before I could really understand what was going on, a hand yanked on my arm to pull me back, "Shit, you okay sweets?" It was Dee. Her raspy voice bringing me back to earth, her gentle tug making sure I was distanced from the brawl that was unfolding.
All I could hear was the harsh impact of punches being laid on skin. Another punch, another punch, another punch. When my eyes focused properly, my mouth fell open at the sight of Harry straddled over Grey Shorts. Harry lay into him, letting his ringed fists punch— left, right, left. It happened again, and again, and again. Blood completely pouring out of Grey Shorts' nose. Jesus. How long had I zoned out for? Since when had this happened?
"You don't fuckin' touch her. You don't get to fuckin' touch her, you hear me? You piece of fuckin' shit." Harry's voice was scarily low and I couldn't prop my mouth closed. He was absolutely going to ruin him. And as much as I hated Grey Shorts, I'd much rather not have a murder on my hands to deal with. Figuring out my life was fucking hard enough. "Hey! Stop, stop, stop. H, come on, you have to stop." I leapt forward quickly, my hands pulling at his bare shoulders.
Harry didn't even flinch, he didn't try to turn his head at the sound of my voice. He just kept laying hit, after hit, after hit. God help me. I knelt down on the grass, the only light source coming from the glow of the pool and it's perimeter. "H! Come on! You've got to let go." I tried harder, laying a hand on his cheek gently, in comparison to the hard throws he was giving.
He turned to me as soon as my skin touched his, "I'm gonna fuckin' kill him, Mae." He spat, his green eyes pouring into mine like he truly didn't care, as if he were trying to plead with me to let him keep going. "Don't be an idiot Harry." I watched him with doe eyes, and he hadn't even realised he'd stopped, he'd just kept watching me as if he were letting the crossover happen.
I hadn't realised my slight lapse in judgment until I remembered all eyes were trained on us and here I was, Evie's little sister, laying a gentle hand on her sisters bestfriend's cheek. Like that was normal. I quickly removed it, scooting back up onto my feet. Harry seemed to understand the situation as well, he tore his eyes away from mine— eyes softer now than they had been before. Very convenient. He rose from being hunched down, hands completely bruised and knuckles split.
"You," Harry bellowed out, pointing towards the boy in navy shorts, "take your ass, and his ass, and get the fuck away from here. The reason you came here? I don't want any fuckin' part of it, and you tell them that too." He wiped his hands on the sides of his shorts as he sniffed.
I didn't know what on earth he was talking about. What did it all mean? And who was he referring to? All rhetorical questions that flashed through my mind as almost everyone watched the two men— one bloodied, one not— haul themselves further and further away until the screech of their car sounded.
The sharp pain resurfaced in my hand again and I clasped it to my chest in frustration. Punching really fucking hurt, who knew? I tried to shake it out, stretch it out, plead for it to feel fine. Though nothing helped. And it seemed as though now Harry and I had matching reminders.
For some reason, the brunette was still hovering, standing tall on her legs and worry etched to her face. She slinked towards Harry, all careful and scared, "Oh my god, are you-" But he turned to her with a screwed up face, eyes dark and mean, "Shows over, go home." And he hadn't given her a moment to respond even if she'd wanted to.
Peering around, everyone had suddenly gone back to partying. As if nothing had happened at all and as if they all weren't about to be witnesses to a murder that could have easily just occurred. What was with these people? This was why I hardly went out, or didn't socialise more than I needed to. Dee tapped my arm lightly, "I'm going to talk with Leon okay? See what the fuck they were doing here in the first place. I'll be with you real soon." I nodded softly, watching her face morph into the devil as she approached Leon— who had remained awfully quiet throughout the whole ordeal.
There was one thing I was confident in though— my hand was fucking throbbing. I could feel the blood thrashing and veins pumping. I didn't know what I needed to do for a recently punched hand, I just knew I needed to do something. Eyeing my surroundings— that seemingly had gone back to normal— I began walking towards the door, injured hand cupped to my chest. I caught my reflection in the glass window, hopefully I looked good while doing that.
"Mae!!" I turned at the call of my name, seeing Harry with bloody fists and a pleading expression, slowly making his way over. Fuck that. Now wasn't the time and I truly just wanted to tend to my sweet little hand, admiring it for the sacrifice it took. I evidently scoffed, loudly so that he'd heard, and with a roll of my eyes, I continued my pace over to the door. Pushing it open, I let it close completely as I sped up my movements into the next room.
Unfortunately though, it only took a few seconds to pass before I heard the door open and shut. Footsteps tread behind me, on the carpet, on the tiles, up the stairs. I jogged two steps at a time, heading to the bathroom for the sink. What the fuck did someone do for a punched hand? Storming into the lone room, I stuck out my fist to let the cold water run over it. "Mae, come here and let me help you." Harry tried, his voice still strong and on edge. I groaned out in frustration, seeing his shadow slip into the bathroom with me.
The cold water felt good but ultimately did nothing for the pressing bruise forming. Harry came up right to my side, gently placing a finger on my jaw so that he could turn me. "What? What do you want? Am I blocking some view? Want me to move for you?" I spat, staring him dead in the eye and seeing his mind catch up. I tore his hand away from my face and marched past him, yanking the door open and letting it slam.
I took two steps at a time as I ran down the stairs, my feet hitting the cold tiles and heading straight for the kitchen. Harry kept hot on my trail though, already behind me before I could think about how fast he'd moved. "Let me help you, Mae, slow down." He spoke softly this time, and it didn't help the flutter of my heart at all.
Seeing as my hand was throbbing, more and more by the second, I thought about his offer and how he probably would know exactly how to deal with a busted knuckle. I stood in the middle of the dark kitchen, music pumping from all around, although my blood pumped harder. I needed his help. And I hated having to admit that to him. But if I wanted to feel somewhat better and sleep peacefully without feeling my own blood lap like waves under my skin, I damn needed him help.
He must have understood my internal battle because he stood patiently waiting, watching me with a worried green stare. "I can explain," He began, "I know what it looked like and I'm sorry, baby, I'm so fuckin' sorry for how all of that panned out." His face was limp and his brows were narrow, his bare chest didn't help and his shorts showed those thighs that I loved. But he was written in my bad books a million times over. And maybe that was harsh, but he was supposed to be a good one.
My head shook from side to side slowly, "I don't want to hear it Harry." I huffed. And he looked at me with the saddest eyes I'd seen, I wanted so badly to crawl into his arms and let him hold me to sleep. But I wasn't that girl anymore, past Mabel would have done that in a heartbeat. "Please Mae, I'm so sorry, I- I'm going to explain it to you okay? I want you to know that I wasn't doing anything out of spite. I'm gonna tell you but I don't want you thinking about it after you leave this room, it's not- it's not your worry to carry. It's mine." He pleaded, his body turning from me as he spoke and grabbed the ice pack from the freezer.
His knowledge— who knows how I would deal with it. I couldn't promise him to not worry about it later because that was what I always did. Why was he telling me this? Why was he actively trying to explain everything to me? Wasn't he supposed to ignore me and feel like he had the upper hand? God... was this what a good man did? Explain himself to make sure I had no other worries to ponder over? Make sure there was no grey area between us? Fuck.
I shook myself out of those haunting thoughts and stared at Harry in hopes that he would just continue. He wrapped the small kitchen towel around the medium sized ice pack and gently held it against my hand. I winced at the instant touch, feeling the cold rush take over. Harry peered down, biting on his lip, "Baby, why did you do that huh? You know I wouldn't have let him touch you, I went straight for him as soon as his hands fuckin' got to you. But you- you hit him before me. And now... now you think I would have gladly let him touch you without even trying to stop it." I discreetly glanced up at him, his eyes were closed and he looked internally beat up, more than his hand.
He was wrong, but I kept quiet. I knew he wouldn't have let him get to me, and I knew that I acted so quickly without even seeing what Harry would have done. But I didn't need him saving me, I could do that myself. "You have to know that I wouldn't ever let that happen. I wouldn't baby. I know I just sat there and I should've come over to you as soon as you'd gotten home but, I didn't want you involved with them and I thought ignoring you would let things pan out better." He ran his thumb over the skin of my hand softly, still holding the ice pack in place.
My mind was a mess and I needed sleep, or somewhere to clear my head, but I really just needed sleep. "Those guys, they flew in from England. They're bad fuckin' guys Mae, real bad, and I used to be friends with them back home because- because I wasn't who I am now. I hadn't spoken to them since but Leon keeps in touch sometimes. Whenever they're around... it's always better to just go with it, let them talk whatever shit they need to and then be done with it. It's never worth getting into it with them. They're fuckin' sick." I gulped and watched him talk further, his eyes gazing into my own like he needed to make sure I heard him.
"They came because," He took a breath, and then spit out the next words like they had been laced with venom, "because my parents wanted to get a hold of me. Because they want back in my life and they asked for money. They asked for fuckin' money, jesus, it's so stupid. They went to them for help. What do they need money for? The fuckin' church? Again?" He ran a hand back through his hair and cursed, flipping the ice pack over to the other side.
I didn't know what to say and I didn't know what would help him feel better. "Why after so long?" I piped up, catching him off guard as his eyes lightened a shade. "I have no idea. They're the ones who kicked me out and made my life as shit as it was and now they want me back. Now they want my money and they go to the sickest men to do it." His jaw looked so tense I wanted to hold it, to ease the pain he was clearly going through.
But he piped up again, pulling himself out of whatever grabbed hold of him. "It doesn't matter though, I didn't tell you this for you to feel sorry for me. I told you because I wanted to explain. He called those girls over not long before you arrived, Leon's been giving me more shit about being with someone and I couldn't make it obvious that the only girl I wanted was you. I- I went along with it like an idiot, but I didn't touch her, tapped her knees a couple times and laughed at a few of her jokes but I didn't go any further than that. I thought if I just went along with it, it would make the process easier and the sooner the guys would leave."
I stared at him. He stared at me. We were both trying to see what the other was thinking and it was the first time that I couldn't grasp anything at all. His words softened the blow of what I'd thought I'd seen, it still stung but I was grateful that he rambled on like he did. "You were a real dick out there." I whispered, nibbling on the inside of my cheeks. "I know baby, god I know. I didn't want to drag you into this shit and now- I'm so fuckin' sorry." It was the most stressed I'd seen him, it kind of felt good until I felt bad for thinking that at all.
He gently helped me stretch my fingers out, seeing how far they would go. I did as he demonstrated, stretching, then fisting my hand, and he felt around softly on the grooves of my knuckles, "Nothing's broken. The swelling will go down, just need to rest it Cherry." He turned to throw the towel on the bench and put the ice pack back into the freezer.
And it was then that I filled with a fuzzy feeling of warmth and how badly I wanted to fit into his arms because he looked so comfy and just the place I wanted to be. I was happy with how I'd handled myself tonight and I didn't need Harry trying to be the hero all the time. "I think it's only fair that we're even. I'm going to cuddle up with any boy of my choosing and you'll have to watch." My voice was soft and it seemed like he almost didn't believe I'd spoken at all.
"Baby, please, you can't joke right now. I need you to know that I would never let anything bad happen to you. I would've killed him tonight if you hadn't stopped me." I couldn't help the smile on my face as he watched me with serious eyes. "I wasn't joking," He continued to stare, "you're going to have to watch me with somebody else and you aren't going to hurt them. You have to watch, just like I did." And god I couldn't tell what had possessed me to say those words and why on earth were my thighs clenching right now?
I could admit that I wanted reassurance earlier on tonight from Harry. Wanted him to look at me with those beautiful eyes and tell me that things were okay. But it had been my fault for placing so much hope in him, he didn't have to do anything, and he didn't owe me. He wasn't my boyfriend. He was my... friend? But whatever we were, I had to remember that we weren't from the same worlds. We did things differently and that was fine, I knew he wouldn't ever let me get hurt and for right now, that was enough.
So watching him watch me now, with those eyes finally telling me everything was going to be okay, I shuddered. He wasn't supposed to look at me like that, if he's just my friend. I wasn't supposed to lay a hand on his cheek outside to pull him out of whatever hole he had fallen down, if he's just my friend. The grey area had now surfaced. It hadn't been there before, because we seemed to be floating around in our small comfortable bubble of just him and I. Except now that people were involved and we were out into reality, things began to seem horrifyingly scary. My mind was mush.
He stood for a second longer until he answered hesitantly, "O-okay. And watch for how long? And- what're you gonna do? And when? With who?" I took in his worry and smiled, "It's a surprise." He processed whatever he needed to process in his mind and I knew I wanted to let this go.
We'd had our first tiff, he'd made it his mission to explain everything to me and as my heart swooned at that realisation because no man had ever been so straightforward, I scolded myself because... he was not my boyfriend, Jesus. I needed to get over myself, Avery and I had tiffs all the time and I never got disgustingly emotional over it. We just addressed it and moved on.
Harry and I had addressed it... now I needed to move on.
I allowed myself to meet his worrisome eyes, "Forgive me?" He said, so soft and anxious, as if he truly needed my answer for the world to move forward. "Make me dinner right now and I'll forgive you, I'm hungry." And his cheeks grinned their beautiful grin and I could have sworn the pain from my hand had fled completely.
"Anything you want baby." He whispered, closing his lips slowly in on my own. But quickly, I pressed a finger to his lips, "No kisses. I'm hungry." I pouted, seeing the physical strain of his face. He wanted to fight back, but he wouldn't, and it made me giddy. He let out a big exhale, breathing onto my lips. It almost made me want to take back my own words, almost.
I peered down at his hands that hadn't yet been placed upon my sides. Was I waiting for his touch? Why did I feel cold without it? No, the air was warm and I was just fine without his hands on me. I could survive. As I kept my focus on his hands, I noticed the dried blood and immediately felt bad, "Harry! You should've cleaned yourself up before helping me, you were bleeding!" I frantically ran across the room to the laundry, swiping the bottle of antiseptic and scooping a handful of cotton balls up.
Running back to him, he stood with his back against the counter, "What would you like for dinner? Hm? You want me to tell everyone to leave right now? Because I will. Leon pushed for the party and all he's done is get his dick sucked left and right." A gush of laughter caught in my throat, but as I set the bottle and cotton on the bench beside him, I looped his hand through mine and that seemed to take all of his attention. "What do you want for dinner baby?" He asked again, this time sounding like he yearned for an answer.
"How do you know if a hand is broken? How did you check mine? Can you fist and unfist your- wait no, let me clean it first and then we check if it's broken. Right?" I winced at the sound of my own voice, so soft and unsure. "Right." He confirmed, confident and making my lips quirk up the tiniest bit.
I unravelled the cap to the antiseptic bottle and blocked the top with a cotton ball as I tipped it upside down. Feeling the cotton soak, I looped my fingers through his and began to dab light over his knuckles. "It's not broken. I'd probably be cryin' if it was. And it'd look pretty gnarly." I nodded as my mouth formed into an 'o', taking away all of the blood that had dried, I leant to the left and opened the drawer that I knew would have a bandage roll to wrap.
"Are we okay Mabel?"
I stopped the wrapping motion of my hand. I didn't even want to look up at him. The name sounded so foreign coming from his lips and I almost wanted to be mad at him for saying it at all. "What'd I do to go back to Mabel?" I asked, attaching the silver clasp to his bandage and collecting the cotton balls to put in the bin. His face softened, "I want to know if you're okay. I don't want you to push away your feelings. They're valid and I want to know if there's anything I can do to make it better."
This is how a mature man spoke wasn't it? Was I really deprived of feeling this for so long that now I didn't even know how to respond?
"I'm okay. I'm hungry, and if you have to make me say it again, maybe then I'll be mad at something." I narrowed my brows for effect and he backed away with a smirk, gesturing his hands up in defence, "Got it Mae, I don't wanna get hit. The face is too precious." He chuckled at his own joke and I rolled my eyes in astonishment, ugh this man.
Grabbing the antiseptic bottle, I ran back over to the laundry and put it in its place. I flexed my fist in and out as I walked back into the kitchen, just like Harry had shown me. Letting my back rest against the counter, Harry slotted in between my legs and I looked at him wearily. He slid his fingers into my hand, picking it up and bringing my knuckles up to his lips. Gently, he placed the smallest kisses to my skin and my belly lit up in a fiery haze.
"I don't like seeing your gorgeous skin bruised baby." He spoke in the small space between us, and I couldn't settle the flutter that awakened within me. The bruise was a bit darker than before and I knew it would only get worse tomorrow. But it was temporary. I gave him a small smile, and as I felt the feather of his light kisses, I rose up on my tippy toes and placed a warm kiss to his cheek.
He seemed taken aback and his eyes slowly found mine, that twinkle shone again, and I heard him whisper my name in comfort. I watched him inch closer but then stop, as if he'd remembered my words from before, "I'm beginning to think that maybe you can't cook. You're stalling more and more mister." I chuckled. He pouted his lips in disgust, "I'm a hardcore cook Mae, I don't think you should doubt me like that, did you forget that I'm skilled at everything." He said, standing a little straighter.
I let out an exaggerated scoff, "Oh please, I'm yet to taste some food so maybe you should watch what you say." I rounded the counter and pulled out the stool on the other side of it. Sliding onto the cushioned base, Harry leant his elbows forward over the cool bench top and tilted his head. "What would you like to eat little love? Name it and it's yours." I didn't even need to think about his question for long, the answer was already somewhere in my mind.
Biting onto my bottom lip, I leant forward too, letting my elbows stop right in front of Harry's. I stared at his delicious pink lips for a little too long before I answered, "A grilled cheese." My grin was wide and Harry frowned, "You want a grilled cheese? Baby I can actually cook, you don't want anything else?" He gently asked as if I had been too scared to ask him for something more complicated.
I shook my head, "A mean grilled cheese is my favourite. That's exactly what I want." And he pursed his lips, thought about it some more, and pecked my nose before he pushed himself away from the bench and began grabbing ingredients from the fridge.
I watched him work his way around the kitchen, shirt off and short shorts on. His glowing skin, his determined face, our gravitational pull... I wasn't sure what it was that made him look utterly delicious— even more delicious than any grilled cheese would ever be.
Licking my lips, he glanced to me as he turned on the stove and I had to force myself to meet his eyes as he grinned— dimples and all, "I'm gonna make you the meanest grilled cheese you've ever had, gonna blow your fuckin' mind."
And I was sure it would.