Chiller (harry styles)

5: Hard Exterior

The world has seemed to stop spinning. I stare in horror at Harry's friend Luke. You have got to be freaking kidding me. My mind can't catch up to what is happening before it. I can feel my face get hot, my lip tremble, and my body freeze. I want to run away. I have been nervous, scared to death to even be in this place, and what I am seeing now has just amped it all up a whole new level.

"Oh my goodness. What is all this? Why do you need this to play pool?" I breathe, and after I ask it, I'm not sure I even want to know the answer.

Luke points to the contents on the table.

"It's called payoling. It's a bribery we use around here. You make the shot, you take one of these, and then you get a little cash. Half the guys around here can always use a little cash." Luke explains.

I somehow knew they were all a bunch of gamblers and honestly, who knows what else. The thought is not comforting in the least. I feel my body lean away from the table. My heart is racing. I think it's best to laugh in these situations, lighten the mood to make both of us feel better.

"Why? Do they always owe somebody?" I joke hesitantly.

I notice Harry, who is leaning over his own pool table, still before he takes the next shot, but I try not to think too hard about what that means. Luke has serious eyes when he answers me, his expression ice cold, and his smile is not adorning his face.

"Doesn't everybody?" Luke asks confidently, and then disappears into the shady parts behind the pool tables.

I stand there for a few moments, thinking he'll return, but he doesn't. I feel stupid just waiting, but I don't know what else to do. I could go home, but that would help nothing and no one. I wanted to play, didn't I? I'm sure it's all my fault then. I really don't know why he even left. But then again I really don't know Luke, and how he is. Every person on this planet is different. Maybe I made him angry. Maybe I went too far. I find myself secretly hoping he won't come back. I have a feeling these bribes are actually just drugs. And that is one thing I absolutely do not want to be involved in.

I turn around to see the curly haired boy exactly where he was the last time I looked at him. He must really enjoy pool to practice it this much, this consistently.

Harry stays quiet, but we're alone again, and this is another chance to ask him more questions about himself. I am in his territory, and I am afraid, but I feel brave. I feel like nothing can go wrong tonight.

My feet respond before anything else, and I find myself walking over to where he is.

"Harry, I...Luke left." I mumble, not exactly knowing what to say.

Harry has an expressionless face, save for a slight concentrated frown between his brows.

"I see that." He tells me before he stops practicing, and then puts down the pool stick. He leans against the edge of the table, the definition of complete ease and confidence in oneself.

I have to admit it. I don't exactly want to, but who else is going to hear me besides myself? The boy looks like a damn vogue model for a dark boy photo shoot.

Having thought the unthinkable, I tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear nervously.

"So,..." I begin, but Harry walks away to a coat rack at the far end of the room before I can say another word. It's next to a flight of stairs, like a fancy hotel exit for cold and rainy days. He grabs a black leather jacket off it, and slips it on.

"You're leaving?" I ask him, astonished. I assumed he played all night.

"I'll be back."

"But where are you going? You can't just leave me by myself." I tell him, my voice stronger.