Lovers End [h.s]

☆ Twenty-four ☆

CONSTANCE BANE

"Oh, my god, what's the fuck is goin' on in here?" Harry walked in after Ezra, closing the door behind him as he looked around the entrance of the house.

Ezra was taking off his shoes while Harry only took his jacket off, hung it over his arm and just kept it there, staring at the chaotic state of the house that we had accidentally made it into.

This wasn't supposed to happen. We were supposed to all have 'me-time' and just get ready in our own rooms, thinking about are depressing lives, or I guess, me thinking about mine and how no matter what I do, something always goes sideways.

I mean, I'm sorry? Why the fuck did Harry start going at it with Ezra while I was in the same fucking room?

Like yeah, maybe it got me hot and bothered seeing Harry being all whiny and submissive and hot with someone other than me, but also, why?

When I realized what was happening, my mind started rolling at 100 kmph and I just left. I stood up from my seat, flipped the sign of the shop to closed deciding not to be a total bitch, and left.

Maybe I should've left it open, would've taught them a lesson if someone would've walked in, but then again, ruined orgasms aren't that fun so I was being nice.

I don't think they even noticed that I left 'cause no one made sure to check if it was a customer.

Oh, my god. I would pay to see someone walking in on them, though. That would have been hilarious.

Anyway. By this point, Harry was seething at the messy state of the house, or rather, the living room and hallway that we had turned into a runway show/closet.

There were clothes hanging everywhere, on doorknobs and handles as the girls and Micah figured out together what we were going to be wearing for tonight.

Lela said to wear something nice, but there are a lot of layers to 'looking nice.' Do I dress fancy nice, casual nice, punky nice? I have many options to choose from, and I'm feeling black.

I want dark colours, I want black. If I feel like on the verge of jumping off a cliff, then I need my clothes to represent that because, somehow, that kind of makes me feel better.

Unfortunately, my slight anger at Harry didn't stop me from giving him a small glare when I took a black, mesh dress off the hanger that it was hanging on, and I turned my head around when he furrowed his eyebrows at me and shook his head as if to say, 'what the fuck are you so mad for?'

With my back turned to him, I grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled it off my body, my head being the hardest part as I tried to keep the makeup that I had done intact and not smudged.

The skintight undershirt that I had on, I kept on as I started pulling the mesh dress over it as I heard a slight cough from behind me.

Turning my head to the side, enough so that I could see Harry from the corner of my eye, I saw him twisting his fingers together as he looked around the room.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say that he looked uncomfortable and wanted to get out of there, but in all reality, he was probably mad 'cause he wanted to join in. I mean, why the fuck wouldn't he? We're fun. This is fun.