stand here with me || h.s

3.

Three : Harry

The small gathering turned into a rather large house party and I wasn't entirely thrilled about that. Gemma was drunkenly dancing with three of her friends and Nick was laughing and telling jokes to a group of people near the kitchen and I was leaning against the wall in the hallway, trying to avoid any and all conversation. However, it was a party and I'd have to socialize eventually, but in order to do so, I knew I'd need more alcohol. I placed my empty beer bottle in the recycling bin before grabbing a red solo cup and filling about three-quarters full of vodka. The other quarter was filled with grapefruit juice. Suddenly, without me even really knowing, Nick had sidled up to my left. "Lookin' to get real drunk, real fast, aren't ya, missy?"

"M'guessin that's your way of saying this drink is girly?"

"A hundred percent, yes." He ran a hand through my curls, something I'd never let anyone else do. "Why ya tryin' to get so sloshed, mate?"

"Can't think tonight, Grim. Can't think about anything." I gulped almost half of the pungent liquid down, then I took a breath and let even more swish down my throat. "Can't think about her." He groaned dramatically. 

"It's been months, Harry! Months! I let you sulk and sulk and sulk some more but I'm done now. It's over, yeah? She's gone—probably off shagging Mr. tall, dark and handsome—and you need to get over it. Get over her already, because I need my wingman back." I felt close to vomiting the alcohol right back out. 

"So this is purely selfish?"

"No! Well, partially, yes. But I'm sick and tired of seeing you mope around and you think we don't know—you think you're hiding it, mate, but you're not. You're fücking not. We all know, everyone knows. I understand that you miss her and yeah, okay...you lost the love of your life, but it's been almost nine months and as your friend, I'm telling you to get the fück over it. Bloody forget about her." I finished off my drink before he said anything else. I knew he was right, about all of it. I knew he was but I couldn't—I couldn't just get over her. It wouldn't ever be that simple.

"Need another drink." I poured another hefty amount of vodka into the cup and didn't even bother putting any more juice in. I sucked down the burning alcohol like it was water, immediately feeling the buzz it left in it's wake.

"You need to get pissed drunk and you need a proper shag. Two things that I can make happen on this fine evening." I didn't want to get pissed drunk. I didn't want to shag some desperate random girl. I wanted to shag Hallie. I wanted to get so sick from alcohol that she'd hold my hair back and then yell at me for putting myself in a position that required her to be the adult. She hated being an adult. Never liked it one bit. "Oi!!" Nick snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Quit thinking about her!!"

"I—"

"And don't tell me you weren't, I am not a bloody idiot." I allowed him to drag me off, only after forcing the rest of the vodka down my throat. My vision was blurry after two more drinks and I knew I was shot. A girl was thrusted in front of me and I wasn't even really sure whether her hair was brown or blonde or black...I had no idea. All I knew was that my body was buzzing and we were heading off to some room, bedroom or bathroom or sitting room, again, I wasn't sure. I fücked some girl whose name I was unaware of and the next thing I knew, I was waking up and the sun was shining brightly through the window of the small bedroom. The girl, she was a brunette, but her hair was much darker than Hallie's. I didn't like it at all. I tried to shrug her off without waking her, but of course, I had no such luck. "Guessing this isn't going anywhere further." She grumbled.

"Sorry...just—not lookin' for anything."

"Yeah, I know. You called me Hallie five times." Fück me.

"M'really sorry—"

"Hey, it's whatever. I really don't care. I just thought..." She trailed off and ran a pale hand through her short, brown hair. "I've heard you're a really nice guy, I guess I just wanted that to be true."

"M'not...I'm sorry you think that." I groaned, trying to make this a little less uncomfortable. "It's been a shit couple of months and I just, I can't—"

"Let her go." My sigh gave her confirmation that she'd wanted, I'm sure. "She must've really done a number on you."

"You have no idea."

"You guys were cute, if that's any consolation." I managed to chuckle through the pain of my headache. 

"S'not, but thank you." She gathered her things while the sheet was still around her frame. 

"Well, I had fun, I guess. Hope your hangover isn't too bad." I waved and she went to walk out before stopping shortly. "Girls like flowers, ya know?" With that little suggestion, she was gone and I was trying to hold in my vomit. 

"Not this girl." I mumbled, solely to myself. Hallie really didn't care for flowers. She didn't like the gnats they brought along with them. And even if she did like flowers, it wouldn't have made a difference. She was long gone, and probably much better off.

º 

"You called her Hallie?" Gemma was trying not to laugh, but I knew at any moment she'd break the straight face. "How many times again?"

"Five."

"FIVE TIMES." This was it. The moment she could no longer hold in her amusement. "M'sorry, bro. Just...you called some rando Hallie five times while drunkenly shagging her. How smashed were you exactly?"

"Ask Nick. He was the one practically shoving drinks into my mouth after the two that I was planning on stopping at."

"Man, oh, man." She leaned her head back against her velvet couch, still laughing. 

"Mhm." Silence settled over us for a few seconds before she placed her hand on my knee.

"You know, you're going to have to talk to someone about her eventually. It's been a good eight months, Harry." I nodded. "It doesn't have to be me, although...I wish it was because I'm your big sister and I love you, but it can be anyone. It can be a damned therapist even, but you cannot bottle this stuff up. You've literally never uttered a word to anyone."

"It's so...Gem, it hurts so much."

"Will you tell me why?"

"I didn't just lose my girlfriend. I lost my best friend. She...Gemma, she was everything to me. Fücking hell, she still is. She's still the only thing I ever think consistently about."

"You really fücked up, didn't you?"

"So badly. I think it could've been avoided. Had I not gone off and slept around that week after she left...I think we could've worked through things. I really think she'd still be my girl."

"A right bloody idiot, you are."

"God, what I would do...what I'd do to get her back..."

"Do you think you ever will?"

"I broke her heart, Gem. I did the one thing I swore I'd never do. I think she hates me—she must."

"Was she the one?" I looked at her like she was crazy. "I mean, regardless of all the times you said she was...is she still the one?"

"She'll always be the one. I want kids with her, Gem. I want a family and a life..."

"Then...Harry, bub, you've gotta just pray that everything happens for a reason. If you two, like, okay this is about to be some cliche rubbish, but if you two are meant to be...then things will fall into place. But right now, Harry...I'm begging you to just go back to being yourself. I miss my happy-go-lucky baby brother."

"I'll try to be better, okay?"

"Thank you. Now...you ready for me to beat your arse in foosball?" I rolled off the couch and we shoved each other on the way to the game table. 

"M'gonna destroy you, always do." A night at home with my sister was very much needed.