D A M A G E D • HS

58

TW: themes of suicide
mentions of death

ARLO P.O.V

Harry stood in the moonlight, gripping the railing lining the lookout point for dear life. Never once tonight did I expect Harry to be here right now, at the same time I am, let alone doing what it is he is doing.

I was sitting here staring out in the water, when I saw a pair of headlights shine to my right. I turned around to see who it was, curious on who else had found my special place. I couldn't make out what type of car it was from where I was sitting, but I felt like I had seen it before.

It wasn't until the person, whom the car belonged to, stepped out that I realized who the car belonged to.

I was confused as to what Harry was doing here. For a second I thought maybe he saw me and was trying to hunt me down, but he didn't glance in my direction once.

I watched him walk up to the railing. The joint I was about to light stays balanced in my mouth as I examine him.

Through my furrowed brows, I saw Harry take a step over the railing. My heart immediately plummeted to my chest at the thought of what he possibly was about to do.

It wasn't until his other leg came over the railing that I knew what exactly he was thinking of doing. The absolute last thing I expected from tonight was this, and that is saying a lot after all the shit that happened to me tonight.

I had to stop him before he did anything stupid, and now Harry is looking at me with wide eyes. "I think it would be stupid of you to jump." I add on hoping to coax him back over the railing.

"A-Arlo, is that you?" Harry says as if he's in a daze.

The moonlight shining on him gives me such a clear view of him. He looks tired even from afar, he looks no better than me, and I'm starting to wonder if the whole precaution of staying away from him was such a good idea anymore.

The universe kept pulling us together no matter how hard I tried to pull us apart. He's everywhere, and I'm starting to feel like the universe is having him show up and be everywhere not to taunt me, but to show me that Harry will always be a part of me, no matter how far I run.

Seeing him so close to ending his life is the biggest slap in the face I need to say fuck it. My life has always been shit, and the one good thing to ever come of it has been Harry, so why should I continue  torture not only myself, but him as well, when I should just let myself be fucking happy for once.

"Harry come here." I scoot back, patting the empty space between my legs and the bar of the railing.

"What?" He looked at me confused, still white knuckling the railing.

"Come, lay down on me, let's talk." I say being truthful, but also hoping this helps with getting him on the safer side of the railing.

"Why?" He questions me. "I thought you couldn't have anything to do with me."

He doesn't say it spitefully, but with genuine curiosity. I would be confused too if not only a couple hours ago I was in his face telling him I can't be around him.

"Because I want you too, pretty boy. Plain and simple." I shrug my shoulders, breaking my eye contact with him, and looking back out at the water. "Plus I need someone to help me smoke all my joints."

I don't bother to look back at him. I don't want him to feel pressured or nervous to come over here, but I'm praying to the universe right now that he does.

I spark the joint that is in my hand to life, watching the end glow orange. I shove my lighter inside the pocket of my sweatpants, and take a hit.

Each second that passes makes me more nervous and fearful that he is not coming. I want to look back at him, but I want this decision to be his, and his alone.