KILLSHOT // [H.S]

044. BROKEN // TATTOO

044. BROKEN // TATTOO

Rory found it impossible to distract herself once she was left alone.

And after another hour passed, her thoughts continued to swarm her head. Rory gave up on finding a show or movie to watch and got ready for bed. Last night all it took for her to sleep was listening to the CD Harry had made. 

Looking at the shiny disk made her want to destroy it.

She didn't.

But she wanted to.

Staring up at the ceiling, Rory wanted to believe that this would all pass. It would just be a bump in their journey on their way to forever. However, the conversation with Colson replayed in her head whenever she allowed her thoughts to go too far.

Colson warned her Harry wouldn't change.

Rory was broken, just like Juliet.

And Juliet was dead.

So the only logical explanation meant she would die too.

Death used to be something she craved, something she welcomed with open arms. When Harry used to try his threats, she didn't care. If she died, she could reunite with everyone she had lost.

But with the taste of happiness she experienced, Rory learned how to enjoy life for the first time in eight years.

And the idea of dying now seemed almost... unfortunate.

Would Harry still kill her?

She assumed the average person in a relationship wouldn't have to ask themselves that question.

It wasn't her fault she didn't know - she had never experienced what a real relationship was like.

Tanner was someone who came into her life by mistake, and despite what everyone believed, they were never together. Harry referred to him as her ex-boyfriend, and she never corrected him. It was easier than explaining their history - that was a nightmare of a definition she never had the energy for.

Rory never had the chance to date someone - especially not anyone society would have deemed normal. The girl in her building moved before she built up the confidence to ask her out. The guy who worked at the postal office and always gave her free stamps got relocated before she realized he liked her back.

She didn't mind the types of people she surrounded herself with, but they never looked at her like a person; it was always an object. 

She didn't need normal. But sometimes, it seemed like everything would be easier if she had normal. If she was normal.

When her anything-but-normal stumbled into the room around three in the morning, Rory woke up to the scent of alcohol and cigar smoke invading her senses.