Rubi Jones
February 10th, 2018 - Somewhere After Midnight
❦
"Can you grab my underwear?"
Harry's eyes were washed out and hazy as he sat at the edge of the bed, trying to catch up with his breathing after going for four rounds in five different positions. His bare back was slicked with sweat, rising and falling as he took a moment to collect himself.
"Where are they?" he hiccuped, the remnants of his intoxication lingering heavily. I sighed, lifting myself up from my starfish position. As I lifted up my torso, a stinging pain shot up my abdomen.
"Fuck," I grunted, sighing in defeat and plopping back down, "you threw them. You tell me." He huffed, slowly rising from the mattress. His naked body moved at a turtles pace, stumbling around the room and scouring the floor for my pair of lacy black panties.
"Aha!" Harry bent down and scooped up the fabric, triumphantly holding them up in the air with his finger. "Found them."
A small smile sprawled onto my cheeks as I watched him waltz back to the bed. He had gotten more and more intoxicated with each minute that passed. After the moment we had shared; me passed out on his chest in exhaustion, him running his hands softly through my hair, I had been the most relaxed I've felt in weeks. Existing as one. With that dirtbag 'Harry fucking Styles'.
The man that can make you feel like nothing, yet everything, all at once.
His arms were wrapped around me tightly, like a cocoon to its butterfly. His chest was warm. So, so warm. I could've laid there for hours. Intertwined with him. But it took me a moment to remember why I was there with him in the first place.
I stayed sprawled out on the mattress, staring at him with concentrated eyes as he mindlessly fiddled with my underwear.
"Can I have them back now?" I chuckled, watching him stare at the small strip of fabric like he was trying to solve a Rubik's cube. My question snapped him out of his childlike space out. He turned to me with those same emerald green, coked up, honeypot eyes. I couldn't help but sink into the mattress a bit, finding the sincerity in his gaze for a moment. Fucking hell.
He extended his hand out to me, the panties still draped over his finger, but then quickly pulled it back.
"Waaaaiiittt," he whined.
"Whaaaaat?" I shot back, mocking his nasally tone.
"Can I put them back on for you?" He mumbled quietly, scooting his body closer to mine. I cocked my brow at him, trying to read his eyes but also getting lost in them in the process.
"Sure." I shrugged, looking up at the sleek white ceiling of the hotel room in an attempt to pull myself out of his irises. I could feel Harry moving around on the mattress, slightly bouncing with each of his movements.
"Wait. I'm gonna put my underwear," his sentence was broken by a hiccup "back on."
I nodded and closed my eyes, seeing sparkles and stars in the darkness beneath my eyelids. "Okay," I giggled at his slurred words as he shuffled around the room to find his, also misplaced, underwear.
A minute or two passed, and Harry had fumbled his way back onto the bed with ease. He had begun to crawl closer to me, my panties in hand. As I lie there half naked, his eyes are trained exclusively on my face, taking a moment here and there to slowly blink or shake his head, which I had assumed was meant to keep him awake.
"Okay, how are we gonna do this?" he jumbled, sitting side by side with my bare legs. He took his pointer finger and blindly ran it up my thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.
"Just...put them on?"
"Okay. Okay, okay okay. Just--put them on. Gooooot iiiiiit." His brow furrowed in thought as he held up my panties to the light, examining them with a concentrated expression.
"Do you, like, not dress yourself in the morning? Have you never put pants on before?" I laughed, placing my hand on my forehead as I watched poor Harry struggle for his life.
"Well, clearly I know how to put fuckin' pants on, yeah?" He pointed down to his underwear, which had a small white tag peeking out of the front of the waistband.
"I'm not too sure about that, Harry. They're on backwards."
"Fuck." He broke off into hysterical laughter, looking at me and shrugging like I had just said the funniest thing he's ever heard in his life. After his fit, he shook his head and replaced his smile with a game face.
"Okay. I'm gonna' do it. M'kay?"
"M'kay," I repeated in a sarcastic drawl. He slowly made his way to the bottom half of the mattress, kneeling at my feet. He stretched the fabric, his tongue peeking slightly through his lips. His coarse fingertips brushed my calves, then my thighs, as he gently put the underwear back onto my body. I lifted my ass to give him better access to my waist, which he also caressed. He lingered in his position, hovering above my stomach.
"I fuckin' did it." He said in a monotone voice, still slightly spaced out.
"Yes, yes you did. You did a great job." A soft smile unfolded onto his cheeks as he stayed above me, his hands dug into the mattress at my sides. He then leaned down and shakily planted a soft peck onto my forehead. The soft contact of his lips made me shiver slightly.
"I'm tired." He stated plainly, before flopping over onto his side and causing the mattress to jump.
"I know hun', I know."
I sighed quietly, sitting up and ignoring the aching pain present in my lower stomach. I swung my legs over the mattress, my knees buckling as I rose to my feet.
My skirt was nearby, since it had only been removed a few minutes after we had finished round one and started off round two. But my shirt was tossed carelessly across the room, resting upon a small white bench that sat beneath the window. I limped over to the bench and picked up the shirt, pulling it over my head so that it rested around my neck.
I glanced over at Harry, whose eyes were half open. His hair had fallen messily in front of his face as he laid on his arm, practically drifting off to sleep. My lips wove into a straight line as I watched his chest rise and fall slowly. He slept like an angel, but his demeanour and persona more so resembled a demon. Funny how that works.
I bent down slowly to pick up my discarded skirt, slowly and quietly slipping into it as to not make any noises that would disturb Sleeping Beauty. But as I slowly rose back up, my elbow knocked into the nightstand, creating a small clatter. Harry's eyes shot open, but he remained in his sleepy position.
"Wait," he mumbled through his hair, "are you leaving?"
"Yeah, I figured since you're leaving tomorrow-- I thought you'd might want that last bit of sleep on your own in a nice big bed."
I lied. I was leaving because I couldn't stand the sight of his painfully handsome, angelic face for much longer. He was pulling me in like a fucking magnet. The closer I got, the harder it was to back away. The last thing I wanted was to seem weak, or vulnerable. I didn't want him to know that I was melting away in his hands like candle wax to an open flame. It was better that way. Better for me, better for him. After all, everyone has their demons. His just work a whole lot harder, right?
My intentions weren't in my own best interest, and my morals faced a dilemma. I despised leaving after hook ups, but my head was screaming at me, pleading me to do so. The enigma that is 'figuring him out' had become far too out of reach.
It wasn't plausible for me to give myself false hope, wondering if I already had him all figured out after knowing of his existence for only a week. That would mean that the chase was over. But now that he finally got what he wanted from me, just like any other girl, maybe it would be better if I left. At least for my own sanity.
Harry was silent for a moment, his eyes still locked in on me as I began to put my arms through my sleeves. His expression softened, his face still smooshed against his tattooed bicep.
"Don't leave. Stay the night. Stay with me. Please?"
Stay the night.
Stay with me.
What would seem like an absolute lie to any person who reads teen gossip, Harry Styles, famous heartbreaker, womanizer, sex symbol; wants me to stay the night. Stay with him.
I shook my head, unraveling the thoughts buzzing around in my brain. All it took was three magic words, and suddenly, I'm pulled back in to that mesmeric aura. I guess the little devil sat upon my shoulder and whispering in my ear was right; I really cannot escape him, no matter how hard I tell myself to, or how hard I try.
"Fine, fine. I won't leave."
I began to undress myself, tossing my shirt back over my head and slipping out of my skirt. Harry's eyes had drifted shut once more, his lips still curved into a smile. I appreciated his attempt to stay awake, but I didn't want to keep him up. He had a long day ahead of him, so the least I could do was let him rest.
I walked over to the lamp that lit up the room, blindly fiddling around with it until I managed to turn it off. As I made my way back to the bed, I could hear soft, grumbly snoring coming from Harry. I smiled to myself, laying down and cradling myself on my side.
As my head hit the pillow, I closed my eyes in an attempt to drown out my overworked brain and just drift off into sleep as I normally would. A warm presence engulfed my body, swaddling me in comfort as that low, gravelly breathing became louder. Harry's arm wrapped around my waist as he pulled me into him. My eyes widened, taking in the aroma of his sweet, woodsy cologne.
"You're so warm, m'rose," he rumbled quietly into my ear.
"What?" I whispered back, but to no reply. He had fallen fast asleep.
❋ ❥ ❋
February 11th, 2018 - 8:07am
Bzzzt
Bzzzt
Bzzzt
"What?"
The heavily accented voice shot me awake like a bullet to the chest. I gasped, feeling a heavy presence wrapped around my waist. I turned my head to look behind me to reveal a half-awake Harry, his phone up to his ear and his brows knit together.
"M'at a fucking hotel. What do you need?"
I stayed quiet. Harry's eyes found mine quickly, staring at me as he slowly nodded into the phone.
"You need me there now?"
My eyes doubled in size, swallowing a lump in my throat. Harry's tone was filled with rage, I could tell that he was definitely not a morning person.
"Fine. I'll be there in an hour. Can you fucking relax?"
He hung up the phone, rolling his eyes with a huff. He looked down at me once more. That kind, unnerving face from last night washed clean from his demeanor.
"Good morning," I squeaked. He let out another angry sigh before removing his arm from my waist and standing up.
"We have to leave. Now." He began to walk around the room, picking up his discarded clothes and slowly putting them back on.
"Oh. Okay," I said without another word before lifting myself to my feet and stretching. That aching feeling was still present in the pit of my stomach. I let out a wince as my tired body strained itself.
"Sure, take your sweet time. Not like we're in a rush or anything," he snapped sarcastically, feverishly buttoning up the same leopard printed shirt from the night before. I rolled my eyes, dressing myself as well.
"Well you're just a ray of sunshine, aren't you?" I shot back, pulling my skirt over my ass. He picked his phone up and held it to his ear, ignoring my comment.
"Yeah hi, I need a car sent to The Grand Hotel."
Once all of my clothes were back on, I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Harry to finish his phone call so I could ask him a million questions about what the fuck was going on.
"No, I'm not alone. I'm with," he paused to look at me, "someone else."
The words 'someone else' should not have made my stomach drop the way it did. I knew I was right about my feeling last night. I shouldn't have stayed. It's just going to make things more complicated for me in the long run.
"The Renaissance. Then you can head over to The Rogue nightclub." My eyebrows shot up as I looked down at my attire. I was still dressed in my bottle girl uniform. There was no way I was going in to work another shift in this fucking outfit. I shook my head desperately, hoping Harry would notice my plead.
"See you in a 'bit," he parted before hanging up the phone. "What the fuck are you shaking your head at? Don't you have work?"
"I can't go into work dressed like this. Plus I don't have work for another six hours" I answered, dramatically fluffing my skirt as I walked over to the edge of the room to retrieve my apron and boots.
"Well what do you want me to do about it?" He followed me to his boots that were strewn across the floor. He slipped them on one by one, hopping out of a lack of balance.
"Can I borrow something of yours? My apartment is out of the way..." I said quietly, a weary look painted across my face as I stared into his hooded eyes.
He was mad, I could tell. But whether or not his anger was directed towards me was something I was unsure of. Maybe his hatred for the morning mixed with his cold, stubborn attitude was seeping through his pores, making him angry at the world.
"Fine. But I'm not sending another car out to take you to work. Waste of time." His harsh words sent a chill down my spine. There it was. That familiar sense of disregard. After last night, I wasn't sure what to expect. But then again, I was sober, he wasn't. It was a recipe for disaster to begin with.
Harry grabbed the last of his things, and I followed suit as he hurried out of the room. The heavy metal door almost slammed shut in my face as he raced to the elevators leaving me in the dust. Drunk or not, those slim legs could take him far.
"Do you have the keys?" I asked breathlessly as we stood and waited for the elevators. Harry stood as still as a statue, his arms crossed against his chest, growing impatient. He reached over to the elevator button and frantically pushed it a few more times.
"Why do you ask so many questions?"
I could feel his anger getting to me. His annoyed attitude was sending me into a spiral. It was too early for me to be dealing with this kind of spiteful behavior. I began to feel myself slip.
"Why are you so fucking rude?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but as soon as he did, the elevator doors slid open. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside.
The ride down was silent, awkward tension filling the small car. I gulped, looking down at my untied boots as Harry anxiously tapped his foot. When the elevator made it to the lobby, Harry pulled me out by my wrist once more and stopped at the front desk.
"Checking out. Last name 'Styles'." He spat shortly to the young girl working at the desk. When she looked up, her cheeks reddened at the sight of him. She straightened the uniform shirt that hung off of her frail body. Her boyish short hair was tucked humbly behind her ear. She looked delicate, fragile. Too fragile to be a fan of someone like him.
"You're Harry Styles..." she muttered nervously as Harry slapped the keys onto the countertop. He didn't reply, he was too busy checking his phone. The girl looked over at me with a smile after realizing that he definitely was not going to answer her.
"Thank you for your help," I mumbled, "hope your day is going well." She nodded at me, her brown doe eyes swelling as she looked down at the computer.
"You guys are all set." Her tone was softer, weaker now, which made my heart ache. I mouthed a quiet 'thank you' before Harry pulled me away from her.
Harry guided me to the outside of the hotel. People were scattered along the entrance, going about their hustling and bustling days. A black SUV with tinted windows was hopped up on the curb, and people began to swarm around it as we made our way through the gold double doors.
Gasps could be heard as Harry walked out in front of me. I kept my head down as he lead me to the back door. He opened it as the herd of people began to near closer to us.
"Harry! Harry!"
"Oh my god, it's Harry Styles!"
The excited voices of strangers around me caused me to grow uncomfortable, overstimulated. My head began to ache, with the mix of anxiety, exhaustion, and red hot embarrassment engulfing my entire body. Harry quickly opened the car door and guided me by my waist inside of it, then swiftly hopped into the back himself. He slammed the door shut with a huff, leaning against the window with his elbow.
All I could do was sit in the backseat quietly, cracking my knuckles. My knees were glued together, watching the city whiz past my eyes. The growing headache I was experiencing was pulsing. It was still very early in the morning, at least for me. I usually get about eight to ten hours of sleep every night, so waking up so abruptly was disturbing my mental clock. Not to mention the trepidation I was feeling from a certain long-haired, hot-headed rockstar.
"Stop cracking your knuckles. You're gonna develop fucking arthritis." Harry spoke into the car window, and my mindless knuckle cracking stopped almost immediately. I felt myself sink deeper in the leather car seat, resting my head against the headrest.
The car ride was eerily quiet. No radio, no talking. Just me, Harry, and the driver, sitting in silence as the Manhattan traffic buzzed around us. All I wanted in this very moment was to go home. Lay down in my bed and just wallow in the covers and frustration until the day passed. But I had a feeling that today was gonna be a long one, so I mentally strapped myself in for the ride.
Breathe, Rubi. Just breathe.
One more tense elevator ride later, we eventually made it up to Harry's 28th floor suite. The tension still ran thick, barely speaking to each other and basking in the solemness. Harry was digging through his drawers as I sat with my legs knit together on the small loveseat where we sat intertwined just days prior.
"Do you need a shirt too?" Harry asked, a tinge of resentment present in his question.
"Yes, please," I stammered, looking down at the rings on my fingers, "but it needs to be black."
"I only have one plain black t-shirt. Is one with a graphic good enough?" His words were softer now, backed by less resentment yet still some coldness. It was like talking to a pile of bricks.
"Sure."
He turned to me and threw a pair of smokey grey sweats and a black t-shirt with white detailing on the front. I held it up.
A black Ramones t-shirt. Suitable for a rockstar.
"I'm gonna go get dressed," I mumbled, practically fighting tears as I walked towards the bathroom. The uncomfortable energy that swallowed up this massive hotel room was becoming far too much for me to handle. I had to escape one way or another, whether it was fleeing the bathroom or fleeing the hotel entirely.
"You're getting dressed in the bathroom?"
His words stopped me in my tracks. I could feel the hot tears swelling up in my eyes, his comment sending me to the brink of a frustrated mental breakdown. I didn't turn around. I didn't want to look at him, and I didn't want him to see me.
"Yes." I said quietly, looking at the clothing balled up in my fists.
"You don't have to hide from me, Red."
The tears were streaming now, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. There I was, in Harry Styles' hotel room, standing in a puddle of weakness and dehumanizing embarrassment as I just...
Sobbed.
At first it was quiet, but as the tears became hotter, a painful whimper escaped my lips. I lowered myself to the floor, thinking that if I just sat here criss-cross applesauce and cried, I could just disappear.
"Hey, hey hey hey--- What's the matter?" I could hear Harry's feet shuffling behind me. He stepped in front of me and crouched down to my face that was slicked with runny makeup and tears.
I didn't look up at him at first, knowing that if I did, seeing his face would make the knife in my chest dig deeper.
"Why are you so mean?" I mewled, broken by sniffles.
"What?"
"You're so fucking mean, Harry. I guess you're not a morning person but...what did I even do to you? Why did you get so angry at me?"
My words caused Harry to drop to his knees in front of me. He cupped his large hands around my face, forcing me to look him in the eyes. My tears made my vision blurry, but I could see a look of concern painted vaguely across his face.
"Rubi," he bellowed, wiping the tears from my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."
I sniffled, the distrust I felt towards him banging against my ribcage.
"I shouldn't have stayed last night. It--It was a mistake..." I trailed off as he looked at me with intent, his hands still cradling my cheeks.
"You got what you wanted from me. I can tell, Harry. But you don't have to be so...mean about it."
Harry's lips parted slightly, taking in my words. He knew I was right. But his lack of a response was making me question saying anything at all.
"Rubi, I--"
"I get it Harry. I fucking get it," I snapped, barely holding onto the eye contact. I let the tears keep flowing down my cheeks, his thumbs there to wipe up each one. My heart was aching, thumping against my chest. An overwhelming sense of emptiness flooded my body, and the feeling was fucking terrifying. I could feel myself slip into hysterics.
"I'm just another body to you, right? That's all I am. Just another girl with a pretty face that you can take home and fuck... then toss me to the side like a piece of fucking garbage. You don't give a damn about me, Harry. I can fucking tell." The sad tears turned into angry ones, pouring from the deepest part of my soul. I wept to myself, knowing that there was no turning back at this point.
"Rubi, no. That is not true. Please don't cry."
I stopped crying for a moment in an attempt to hear him out instead of blubbering like a baby.
"That is not true. I promise," he repeated. His features had softened, his hand still cupping my face. "I swear on my fucking life. That is not true. That's the last thing I want you to be thinking right now. Fuck— I'm sorry, Rubi."
The repetition of apology was getting to me. The sincerity in his voice was unfamiliar, but it made the weight drop right off of my shoulders. It's scary how a person can do this to you. A person that once made you feel like nothing, could make you feel whole again.
"I don't want you to feel this way. You shouldn't be crying because I'm an asshole, okay? I'm so fucking sorry."
"Harry—"
He persisted. "No, no. Don't say another word. I know, I was a dick. I'm sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you somehow."
His eyes bore into mine, sinking into my soul.
"I'm gonna come by the club tonight. To say goodbye. Would you like that?"
Before I could open my mouth to reply, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek. I let out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding, sighing as I melted into his fingertips.
"Are you gonna be alright?" he asked. I nodded, reaching up to hold his face in my hands. I leaned back in for a kiss of my own. Feeling my lips against his was euphoric. It was like a piece of me that was once missing was put back into place. We drew away from the kiss, our eyes locking. A small smile sprawled across his face.
"I guess that means yes."
"Oh fuck off," I giggled, sniffling and wiping the remnants of my tears. He stood up from his knees, extending his hand out to me. I took it and he pulled me upwards to my feet.
"Go get dressed," he demanded jokingly. I shrugged, the clothing still balled up in my hands as I made my way into the bathroom. Shutting the door behind me, I looked at myself in the mirror. Ugly black streaks ran down my face. My cheeks were red and swollen, and my eyes were greener than ever. I sighed, tussling my hair before undressing myself, and slipping into the oversized, borrowed clothing.
The legs of the sweatpants stretched for miles, practically dragging against the ground. I hope he didn't mind, I couldn't help that I was short.
As I pulled the worn in Ramones shirt over my head, I inhaled deeply, taking in the scent. That familiar woodsy vanilla. It was sweet. It was forgiving. It was him.
I gave myself one final look in the mirror, folding my clothes neatly over my arm and walking back out into the hotel room. Harry had changed into a white Rolling Stones graphic t-shirt and a not at all shockingly similar pair of black skinny jeans.
He was looking down at his phone with his legs crossed, leaning comfortably against the wall of the hotel room.
"Ready?" he asked, his eyes still glued to his phone. I shut the bathroom door behind me and walked towards him. When he looked up, a smile creeped up onto his face.
"You look good in my clothes, Red," he smirked, shoving his phone in his pocket and peering down at me. His t-shirt was snug against my chest, but the sweatpants hung off of my hips, trailing down to the floor and stopping at the toe of my boots. I returned the smile, looking down at the extra fabric at my feet.
"The pants are a little big, but I'll live."
"Just don't trip and hurt yourself at work, okay?"
The genuine concern in his tone was off putting. I honestly felt kind of bad about what I said, but I knew I wasn't entirely wrong. I guess I'll just have to live with the fact that the underlying dreams I've had about figuring him out were far behind me. Because what's the use in worrying when I could just bask in the moment, right?
❋ ❥ ❋
7:24pm
The work day had been flying, and all I could think about was Harry. The words he spoke kept blinking in my mind like a fucking turn signal.
That's not true, I promise.
That's not true, I promise.
That's not true, I promise.
A promise is a big thing. Especially when that promise is made by someone whose track record with honesty is absolute dog shit. Someone whose entire personality and claim to fame revolves around his dishonesty. I guess all that was left to do now was to wait and see if that promise he made to me, as I cried like a toddler, whining in his arms, will ring true.
My thoughts were interrupted by my cellphone vibrating in my apron. I took it out of my pocket and read the small display on top of the screen.
Demi Fox.
Fuck.
"Hello?" I sang, trying to hide the fact that I would rather jump off of a building than speak to her right now.
"Rubi, darling. How are you? I need you tonight."
"What for?"
"I need you to do a deal. Louis is getting ready to leave with the band so I can't send him out. Do you think you can head to my office in 10?"
"Demi, I'm in the middle of my shift. I can't just leave," I stated plainly, scoping out the half empty club in hopes that five million people would walk right through the door so that I had an excuse to deal with anything but her.
"Don't you have backup bartenders? All I need is for you to come here, collect the supply, and I'll send you on your way."
I rolled my eyes at her stubbornness. Deep down, I wanted to just say no, but I knew that I couldn't. Now that Louis was gone, I was her second in command. It was something I was going to have to get used to; at least for the next few months.
"Fine. I'll be there in ten. Please don't keep me for long."
"See you then, sunshine."
I shuddered, snapping my phone shut and dropping it back into my apron pocket. Joseph was on his break, but he didn't go very far. He was sitting at the edge of the bar, looking bored as ever, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Joseph was a nice kid. He was young, but he was one hell of a bartender. I scooted over to him with a sincere smile. He glanced up at me, his huge brown eyes looked tired, yet so full of life.
"You look like you need something. What's up?" he asked, leaning on his hand as I slid over to him and batted my eyelashes.
"Can you cover the bar for me, please? My boss from my other job just called me and she needs me over there. I'm sorry for interrupting your break--"
He cut me off, "It's cool."
I clasped my hands together, bowing my head.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'll send you home early tonight, I promise. If I forget, remind me!" I shouted over my shoulder as I made a beeline to the front doors.
I had no reason to run, but it felt necessary in this moment. My boots pounded along the concrete as the grating February winds cut past my shoulders like knives. Luckily, Demi's office was only a 5 minute walk from The Rogue. But with the way I was running, I made it there in about 2 minutes flat.
I pushed through the revolving door, and gave the girl at the front desk a nod. After busting into this building over a thousand times in no type of business attire, nobody really seemed to pay me much mind anymore.
The elevator shot up quickly, which I was thankful for. The less time I spent in this stupid fucking building, the better. The steel clad elevator doors slid open to reveal Demi sitting at her desk, her eyes locking in on mine quickly.
"Wow, you got here fast," she breathed, looking down at her freshly lacquered manicure.
"I know right?" I jabbed sarcastically as I walked closer to her desk. "How much am I selling and what am I charging?"
Demi reached into her desk drawer and pulled out three 8-balls. She slid them towards me gently, her eyes shooting bullets into my skull.
"I told him $600. This guy's a bit of a stickler but I'm sure you'll be okay. Just be short with him. Don't try to be all nice and make conversation. His name is Rusty--"
I snorted, putting the bags gently one by one in my apron pocket. "What the fuck kind of a name is Rusty?"
"Not sure. It's a nickname I suppose. But he has a huge scar that goes from his forehead to the bridge of his nose. You won't be able to miss him. He's an older guy. Tall, white, and will probably be wearing a suit." I nodded at her, taking in the information but simultaneously getting distracted by her strangely thin eyebrows.
"Okay. Rusty. Tall, white, old, scar, suit. Got it. Can I go now?"
She sighed, leaning back in her office chair. "Rubi, I need you to listen to me when I tell you to just be short with him. I wouldn't have sent you out to do this deal, but I had no other choice since Louis is leaving..."
"Go on," I implored, wondering if there was a possibility I'd be getting murdered tonight.
She continued on, "Don't make small talk. Don't try to bump up the price. He knows what he wants and he'll do anything to get it. And when I say anything, I mean anything."
I shrugged. Demi had a tract record with being dramatic, so her bout of caution was rolling right off of my shoulders. I knew what I needed to do to get the job done. I'll put on a cute smile, hand him the shit, take the money, and run for dear life.
"Alright, alright. I won't be a dick. Is that all?"
Demi nodded, sweeping her jet black hair behind her ear. Her face looked pretty relaxed despite sending me off to meet up with a man who could probably kidnap me in one full swoop.
"Yes, I believe that's it. He'll be in the back lot at around 8:15, so hurry back."
"Don't tell me what to do," I joked, hoping to lighten the mood. She didn't seem to like my comment, since all she did was clear her throat and shoot me a glare. I took that as my cue to leave, patting my apron as I spun on my heel to walk back to the elevator.
I recapped the night going forward in my head. Sell drugs to a sketchy mafia guy, head back to the bar, make my silly little drinks with a stupid smile on my face, and wait for Harry to walk through the door.
Harry was coming.
He was coming to see me.
A prick of pain pain stung my chest as I walked back to the club. He was coming to say goodbye.
I guess it hadn't really hit me until now. This was most likely going to be the last time I saw him, maybe not forever, but for at least for a few months. I didn't want it to hurt, knowing damn well that there was no feelings present between us, but I couldn't help but let that little stinging pain in my chest entrap my whole body.
After spending about a week straight with him, all I thought about was him. The thought of him made my head want to explode, but that fatal explosion melted away into a swarm of butterflies that engulfed me and swallowed me whole. I couldn't shake him, and that was the scariest part.
"You still need a few more minutes?" Joseph chimed as I walked through the front doors of the club. I nodded, my head still buzzing with anxiousness.
"Yes, I promise I'll be quick," I spoke, whizzing past him to the back entrance. Before stepping outside, I checked the clock on my phone. 8:10. I had five minutes to become a person again.
"Rubi Jones?" A deep, echoing voice called out from across the back lot. I froze, having only made it halfway out of the door before turning to face the sound. It was Rusty, that's for sure.
A tall, greying man that stretched as high as a skyscraper. His neatly starched suit jacket hugged his broad body tightly. He looked strong, he looked mean, and he looked fucking dangerous.
"Yes?" I squeaked, walking towards him with a cautious step. The closer I got to him, the more I could see his face, glowing beneath the red undertones of the neon sign. The scar was hard to ignore, but I found his eyes quickly in fear of my life.
"You're late," he growled, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a wad of cash, neatly rolled into a bundle. I tried desperately to swallow the burning vomit that was piling up in my throat.
"Sorry, I--I got held up," I stuttered, knowing that I definitely wasn't late, but far too nervous to talk back. His eyes were grey and lifeless, looking like he's seen some serious shit.
"I don't need your excuses, princess."
The pet name made my stomach do a backflip, after knowing that the last person to call me that was Harry. I swallowed hard once more, still trying to fight back puking all over this man's shoes.
"10.5 grams, as you requested." Juggling three plastic baggies in my hand began to grow difficult, but luckily for me, he snatched them from my palms before they could fall. "Total is six hundred."
I could hear the steel clad back door slam behind me as Rusty admired the cocaine. He held it up to the light, then shoved the three bags into his breast pocket. I tried to peer over my shoulder to see who had walked outside, but Rusty's voice had snapped my attention.
"Well, pretty girl, Demi told me four hundred. Are you gonna take my money? Or are we gonna have a problem?" His eyes darkened, sending a chill down my spine. I wanted to just take the money and run, knowing that that would probably be the safest option. But if I came back to Demi over two hundred dollars short, she'd have my head on a platter.
"She---" I paused, watching him slowly reach into the pocket of his uniform slacks, "she told me six..."
In the blink of an eye, I suddenly felt the sting of cool, sharp metal pointing upwards on my throat. I gasped, screwing my eyes shut as the blade gently jabbed into the delicate skin of my neck. I opened my mouth slowly to reply, making sure that the knife didn't accidentally slice my neck wide open.
"You were going to say something?"
There they were again. Those same hot tears welling up in my eyes as I helplessly stood at the disposal of Rusty, a man I met merely seconds ago. I swallowed, feeling the blade pinch my skin.
"Fine! I'll— I'll take it! Please— don't hurt me." My legs began to shake, breaking out in sobs as the knife stayed planted against my throat. He slowly handed me the money, and my breathing hitched before he quickly removed the weapon and put it back in his pocket.
"Pleasure doing business with you, princess."
A wicked smile sprawled across his cheeks, a gold tooth shimmering under the light. My heart was pounding, and my lungs felt empty as he turned away to disappear into the night. My fingers were trembling as I glanced down at the roll of cash in my hands.
For the first time in my entire life, I was scared. Scared of my job, scared of a man, scared for my life. The most I would ever get is nervous, but this feeling was so foreign to me. I grew up being told that being afraid was no way to live life. Fear was the one thing I never let myself experience; until this morning, until this afternoon, until this very moment.
"Rubi?"
The familiar accent made my chest heave, present over the loud ringing in my ears. I turned around and was faced with the person that my mind was begging for.
That same white Rolling Stones shirt, hidden by a sleek leather jacket that protected him from the cold winter air. Those same rings that sat decadently across his knuckles and burned etchings into the purest areas of my skin. That long, chestnut brown hair that curled like the tips of ocean waves and flowed gracefully down his shoulders.
He was here. He was here to see me.
Without a word, I ran up to him and pulled him into a tight embrace. His hands hovered for a moment in confusion, but quickly found my waist as he drew me in towards his body. I began to let the tears pour from my eyes, sobbing quietly into his cotton t-shirt.
"What happened? What's wrong?" he mumbled into my hair as one of his fingers traced circles along my back. The sound of his voice made me cry even harder, prompting him to rock me back and forth.
"That's it. Let it all out. Breathe, Rubi. Just breathe."
My muffled sobs began to slow as I found the courage to look up at him. He was already peering down at me, a gentle twinkle in his eye.
"What happened?" he whispered, taking one of his thumbs and wiping away my tears, the same way he did just hours before.
"Rusty— he.. he had a knife.. and— he tried to hurt me.." I mumbled, stuttering through broken sniffles, the tears in my eyes fogging up my vision.
"What? He tried to hurt you?"
"Yeah, he had— a knife. And—and he held it up to my neck. He threatened me, Harry!"
Harry's grip around me became tighter as I buried myself into him. He let out a quivering breath, as I could feel his heart beating rapidly through his chest. He seemed about as nervous as I did.
"Fuck."
That was all he managed to say as he rubbed the top of my head. He was moving sporadically, feeling various parts of my head, shoulders, and back. Almost as if it convince himself that I was actually standing in front of him.
I didn't know what my sadness and dreadful feelings would prompt me to say next, after feeling like the world was crumbling beneath my feet. We sat in silence for a moment.
"Why do you have to leave, Harry?" I whispered softly into his shirt. I could feel him crane his neck down to hear me, nodding as we stood intertwined.
"I wish I didn't have to, Red."
That was all he managed to squeak out, before burying his head into my shoulder.
There we stood, locked in an embrace. But there was no where I'd rather be in this moment. I felt safe here. I could stay out here with him forever.
"Harry?"
"Yes, Rubi?"
"Am I going to see you again?"
He let out a sigh, gripping me tightly. The warmth of his body mixed with the familiar scent of his cologne swallowed me in this overwhelming sense of relief.
"Yes, Rubi. I promise you'll see me again. You have my number, too. We can talk all the time. I'll be here, always."
My heart broke into a million pieces as the words poured honestly from his lips.
I'll be here, always.
"I have another question..." I trailed off, backing away from him so that I could look him in the eyes and finding that sincerity I had been longing for deep within his irises.
"What is it?"
"If I wrote you letters, would you write back?"
I wished I could tell him just how much writing letters meant me. Tell him stories of how my dad used to work painstakingly long night shifts at the hospital, and leave me notes and love letters to wake up to in the morning while he slept the day away. Writing about how much he loved me, how much he missed me, highlighting the best parts of his days, and the worst. But if I spoke now, I feared that he'd never be able to shut me up. So I settled for asking, because what's the harm in that?
I could see his face contort, his eyebrows raising in amusement.
"Rubi, I don't--," his sentence was interrupted by a small chuckle, "I'm not sure if I'll have time. I don't know if I'll be able to write back."
Those emerald green eyes were sparkling, despite the darkness that surrounded us. His smile was contagious, lighting me up for the first time in hours. "That's okay, I understand--"
"You can still send them. I'll read every single one."
Before I could answer, he cupped his hands around my face and pulled me in for a passionate kiss. His satiny lips brushed against mine delicately, erasing every last bit of pain in my chest as it dissipated with his touch. He repeated himself once more.
"I will read every single one. I promise."
❦
AN:
i just wanted to say a quick thank you to anyone keeping up with my silly little story so far. seeing people enjoy what i write fills me with so much joy and i am so grateful that i get to share a piece of my heart with all of you.
a small shout-out to my partner in crime/the other half of my brain for helping me so much with this chapter. sav, i love and appreciate your support every single day. thank you for staying up late with me, thank you for letting me rant to you about ideas and whatnot, thank you for everything!!
i hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it. seeing my two characters come to life has been such an incredible feeling, and seeing people enjoying it as much as i do means the absolute world to me.
fifteen chapters down, many more to go!!!
love, moose. xo