Carolina [h.s]

chapter sixteen

18+ MATURE CONENT.

south carolina,
washington, d.c.
july 1990

***

Vada
//

The sun seeps through thin white curtains, the gold light practically burning my irises. Sheets are soft below me, the pillow the same and for a second I feel completely surrounded by warmth.

That is until I realize where I am, and the sudden throbbing pounding slams through my brain.

My closed eyes snap open to the white popcorn ceiling. It's quiet around me as I take in the motel room. Memories of the night before flashed behind my eyes as I look around the room.

I pinch my eyes closed at the sick feeling I get.

Before I can swallow myself in regret and humiliation for any longer, I catch sight of the figure sitting by the window.

Shirtless, and still only in his loose boxer shorts, Harry sits on the opened window sill. He blows out cigarette smoke from his lips into the dewy morning air, and for a second I'm mesmerized.

The morning sun seems to hit every part of his bare skin, his tattoos glowing behind it. His hair is draped over the sides of his face, curls brushing his neck so I can't see his face. Birds chirp morning love songs around him, and it's the first time I really see him look at ease.

My eyes trace down to his lower jaw line where a purple-red bruise is formed, and I know I was the cause of it this time. I shut my eyes remembering how mine are much worse from him, and I wonder how I'll get up and avoid conflict.

Looking at the clock ticking on the wall, my eyes widen and then suddenly I'm up out of bed scrambling to get ready.

"Fuck!" I complained, searching the room for my clothes.

I didn't have time to dwell on the regrets of last night, in fact I pushed them completely out of my head. Still only in my underwear and bra, I focus on finding my clothes and getting the hell out of here.

I don't even look at the boy across the room, and he doesn't say anything either. I don't know why I was worrying about conflict with him. It didn't work like that with us, because nothing would ever be said.

Completely relaxed, he moves across the room taking my spot on the bed and leans back against the headboard lighting up another cigarette. I can't keep the memories of me leaning across the bathroom sink hidden when I meet his eyes, and it's like he knows what I'm thinking.

I push the thought away. "I'm late for my shift, I can't leave here with my grandmother seeing." I run my hand through the mess of tangles in my hair.

Green eyes are on me, and he sends me a look like he's not bothered at all. I now remember how he tore my shirt the night before. Groaning at his careless behavior, I think quickly picking up his discarded black AC/DC t-shirt from the floor.