Sinnerman //H.S

14- "The realest thing"

Deafening silence, heavy breathing that rattles his chest, clammy hands, sweat covering his body and making his hair stick to his forehead. It happened again, he didn't mean to, really but it just had to happen. You'll be here any minute now, but he's not fully back to himself yet, he won't be until he cleans his mess. He's not sure how it started, he remembers walking to his car to leave the bar just like he did everyday this week, and stopping at a red light his head turned to the right as if something beckoned him to, and when he saw you a grin pulled at his lips. You were there in a yellow band shirt, tiny denim shorts and knee high socks as you skated around the record store's parking lot, your long brown waves reflecting golden honey under the bright sun you smiled and laughed as you crashed into Emma's back and wrapped your arms around her shoulders for balance. His smile faded at the sight of the redhead girl, further away, sat on the hood of a bright yellow car was another one of your friends who's name he didn't bother to remember, smoking a cigarette as she watched you through her red heart shaped sunglasses, the other leaned against it as she ate a popsicle that threatened to melt and drip down her arm any second now as she cheered for you. Harry could almost hear the music blaring from the inside of the store but he couldn't quite catch what was playing, his sole focus being on you in that moment. You seemed to be having fun, and for a second he saw himself leaving his car and throwing you over his shoulder to take you away from them, to have you for him only. But the light turned green, the car behind him honked so he drove away, not without throwing his middle finger out of his open window for the driver behind him to see.

He curses himself for not showing his face at your work earlier today, maybe you would've spent your time after work with him instead of them. So it's his fault really if he's mad now, but at least he knows what you look like under those denim shorts. The moment he drove away he knew that he needed to take his mind off of you, he was angry and in desperate need of distraction, he didn't want to go back to the bar, he didn't want to work on his paintings, he didn't want to answer another phone call, he knew what he needed to do despite not really being in the mood for it. And there she was, sitting on a bench on the sidewalk, a sad pout and teary eyes, a small suitcase at her feet as she extended her arm towards the road, her thumb sticking out, desperate for a ride to wherever she wanted to go. Long pin straight blonde hair, floral dress and brown sandals, her sad face lit up as his car came to a stop in front of her. She looks so relieved, yet still so sad, in desperate need of company which is exactly what he could give her, for at least a few hours.

"Hi, thank you so much!" She stood and grabbed her suitcase before getting into his car and throwing it on his backseat.

"Where are you going?" His deep yet calming voice brought a smile to her lips as she quickly dried her tears before looking at him. Of course he was handsome and she immediately saw that, he was young and seemed harmless, so when he flashed her his pearly white teeth with a smile, she felt like she could trust him.

"Do you know the Rivers Motel?" Her voice was small, she still seemed a bit scared, probably because she was on her own, and just from looking at her it didn't seem like she was used to being on her own. Her clothes looked expensive, and so did her suitcase, her hands were manicured and her hair freshly washed. Her mascara was a bit smudged under her eyes from her recent tears though. And she looked young, she couldn't have been over nineteen years old. She looked like every teenage runaway he's seen, the ones on their first attempts at least.

"Why would you a girl like you want to go to a place like this?" He asked as he drove away, glancing at her with a smile and she smiled back timidly. She definitely was a first time runaway, probably had a disagreement with her mother because that's what daughters do, they fight with their mothers. Maybe about a boyfriend, most likely about a boyfriend he thought the second he saw a cheap ring on her ring finger as she played with the hem of her dress. It's the season for floral dresses, well in California it's almost always the season for these dresses, he's never seen you in a dress like this, your dresses are always tiny and perfectly fitted for your body as if each were made for you only, clinging to your body or slightly flowing above your knees, you always chose the ones without patterns in pastel colors soft to the eye and perfect for your skin tone, or if you do it's dainty, like small heart or flowers, unlike this girls dress with big flowers clashing against each other's all in different sizes and definitely not the right colors for her complexion, a strong primary purple that makes her hair look too yellow.