Play "Lucky I Got What I Want" - Jungle
Glistening, almost sparkled light shone through the gaps in the tree branches as we slowly walked out of the small clearing Harry had found me in. I didn't know how to feel about his close proximity after my fear stricken breakdown that I practically begged him to hold me through.
I didn't want it to be something he regretted obliging too, I didn't want him to think it was a mistake.
I knew I didn't have much to offer him friendship wise, but I didn't want him to leave after experiencing his drastic effect on calming me back to reality. But it was dangerous to let him in, I still knew that. My subconscious thoughts made sure of it.
"Are you sure your okay driving home?" his hushed yet gravelly toned voice whispered next to my ear. I couldn't let myself react to how close he was, so instead I took a step forward and nodded gingerly.
Being in a car with him was not a great idea. He made me want to burden him with all my problems because somehow he made me think he would have the solution, his intimidating all-knowing aura he emitted solidifying my questioning feelings. He didn't deserve that weight.
Harry cleared his throat, before running a hand through his hair and looking forward. His jewellery twinkled in nature's glow of blue hued light as I noticed he was now wearing a cross earring in one ear, to match his mesmerising chain round his neck. My brain immediately started drifting to possible drawings including him and his new metal accessory.
"Angelina?"
"Sorry, what?" I whispered, snapping out of my Harry-inflicted daze.
"I said I'm driving you home." His face was pulling a 'no room for negotiation' expression whilst his voice was bleeding with finality. This reminded me of the first time I had gotten in his car with him.
I sighed. "No Harry, I'm okay," I replied in exasperation, not failing to notice the way his jaw tensed when I said his name so breathlessly. What was that?
His strong green stare flickered around my face to search for any type of crack, but when he found nothing he drew in a breath and agreed. As I was heading to my car he was walking me too, he stopped and tugged at my arm, causing me to slow down and face him.
He pulled out an inky biro from his back pocket, placing it in his full lips before pulling of the lid with his teeth, not breaking eye contact. "Here, just use it if you need anything." My brows furrowed in confusion at his statement, until he started to rolled up my sleeve to write something. I ripped my arm away like his touch burnt me when my sleeve started to move upwards.
"What are you doing" I asked him, whilst protectively pushing my sleeve back down to my palm. He saw my actions, hardening his gaze on to my hand that was wrapped around my sleeve.
"I was writing my number. Angelina why did you pull your sleeve down?" his rough voice went back to owning enough authority to pull answers out of anyone, but I didn't cave.
"Doesn't matter" I told him, "write your number here." I unclamped my hand to show him my palm, as he grabbed it slowly. His rough skin felt good against mine, the cool metal of his rings caressing my hot skin, making me shiver. However he wasn't done with his questions, the look in his eyes told me so.
When he finished writing his number he clipped the lid back on his pen and stepped closer to me. Without realising, he had got hold of my arm and had pulled up my sleeve to my elbow, as I innerly cursed my stupidity at getting distracted by his closeness.
I scanned his face for his reaction, and succeeded in getting one. But it was not what I thought it would be.
"What the fuck is this, Angelina?" His eyes had now darkened immensely, the translucent green that usually occupied them now covered with a soul devouring black.
Instinctively I pulled my hand away, rolling the soft material over my scars. They were very subtle and not noticeable when you weren't looking in the right light, but Harry noticed, and somehow I knew he would. I also knew what he was thinking, it's what everyone immediately jumps to think when they see my arms up close.
"Did you do thi-"
"No." I cut him off before he could finish that sentence. "It's just scars from an accident that happened a couple years ago, just drop it."
My voice contained anything but the powerfulness Harry's did, and the gentle crack when I mentioned the accident didn't go unnoticed either.
I saw his hands unwrap from the anger fuelled fists they had formed into, and his chiseled features morphed into one of confusion as the previous vexation melted. I couldn't work out why he reacted like that, he didn't know me, he didn't care for me. So why?
Shallow breaths that echoed through his chest could be heard from in front of me and little clouds of his cold exhalation could be seen in the corner of my eye, but I refrained from looking up. I instead focussed on the floor below, how the concrete held tiny craters within its surface, like some form of a very underwhelming moon. And if the floor below me was representing something so immortal and far from evils reach, then why did I feel like I was one thousand feet underwater, with no way of being invincible?
Snapping back to reality I realised we had stood there in silence for a few minutes now. I couldn't bring myself to mind though, I liked the company.
Even if I did just reveal to said company something about myself I wished so desperately to keep concealed, preferably wanting it to stay locked away on the immortal moon I was talking about.
Harry didn't seem to pry at the newly revealed information though, and strangely my chest didn't seem to constrict as much at the mention of the accident. It was like his presence clung to every mortal atom that made me, and individually warped it back into a time where I was more or less just a normal girl, with no broken past to paint my personality.
How he did this I didn't know. But I couldn't lie and say I didn't crave the feeling more.
"Angel," he whispered, the soft openness in his voice surprising me, and causing it to nearly get lost in the evening breeze. He parted his lips to say more, but shook his head and frowned. "You should, er, you should get home."
And just like that, it was gone. His voice had now been masked back, the closed off waves it gave drowning me in disappointment, but I couldn't pin point why.
Swallowing my sadness, I proceeded to nod slowly and spun on my heel, walking away from his figure and venturing to my car.
But then I stopped. I had forgotten to do something.
Turning around once more I was met with Harry's silhouette in the same place, leaning carelessly against a random car that happened to be next to him. He had a cigarette balanced between his cherry lips as he twirled the lighter between his fingers, never lighting it up. Raising an eyebrow his eyes tore into me, and his sharp jaw was shadowed prominently under the light of the moon.
"Thank you Harry." I murmured quietly, looking up to see if he had heard. All he did was nod, the edges of his lips threatening to curve up in small smile around the cigarette he held between them. He looked beautiful and I couldn't stare anymore.
So I turned to get in my car, and I left.
Making my way down the roads of London city, I noticed how the light pollution from the building and street lamps was a distasteful contrast from the dark little world me and Harry had seemed to be occupying. The way he would make me forget about what had happened to me confused me, but I'm slowly coming to terms with why my brain would quiet its constant hum of loud thoughts whenever I'm with him. It's because there's something in him I see and connect with, something I recognise in myself.
It is grief, like Harry had said that day in the music department. And the more time I spend with him, the more his overwhelming sadness came to light.
Pulling into my apartment parking, I slowed the car down and cut the engine. I thought about the fact neither one of us brought up Mr Mavis, me being too afraid to mention it and Harry... Well, I suppose he knew I didn't want to talk about it either. My stomach twisted in anxiety at the thought of him getting punished for hurting the professor, he couldn't go down for something that hadn't had anything to do with him. It was the wrong place at the wrong time, and I knew a lot about that.
Staring up at the building, it looked unbearable. The loneliness I would have to succumb to was practically radiating out of the brick walls, like a radioactive reminder of the emptiness waiting for me inside. So I decided then to stay in the confined yet safe space of the car for just a moment longer, and try to ignore the urge to fix Harry like how he was slowly fixing me.
And the fucked up part was, he didn't even know that he was doing it.