Punk Harry Imagine

Part 71

"Mom, can you pass the mashed potatoes?"

"We don't have any mashed potatoes."

"I know, but all the families in those movies and shows have some type of potato dish when they eat dinner together."

"Y/N, we're not even eating dinner," my mother stated.

I stared blankly at the empty dinner table in front of me as my dad watched me judgmentally.

"Your father and I were literally talking when you came into the kitchen, sat down, and asked me to pass you some mashed potatoes. Are you okay?"

My father continued to look at me, however this time with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted to see what it was like to be a cliche family. I guess it didn't work." I frowned.

"I mean, I can go buy some fries if you want? Does that count as a potato dish?" my father asked.

"No, it's alright. I don't need anything."

"Are you sure? You seem kinda upset at the fact that we don't have mashed potatoes. When have you ever seen us have mashed potatoes?" my mother interjected.

"It's fine! Let's just pretend that this didn't happen, okay? I tried to do something new and it obviously didn't work out."

"You know, you've been acting very strange lately. Even before we discussed moving. Are you okay, Y/N?" father asked.

"I'm fine! We're pretending that this conversation didn't happen. You guys continue talking and I'll just go elsewhere."

With that, I walked out of the door before I was questioned any further about my sanity. I sat on my front doorsteps and sighed.

When did this all happen?

Well, apparently when I moved into this town and decided that it would be a good idea to befriend the one guy that everybody has told me to stay away from at one point in my life, but who knows for sure.

I glanced over at his house. The lights were on in his living room but were muted by the black curtains covering the window and his car was parked in the driveway. I'm guessing he's home.

I fought back all of my urges to approach his house and to just talk to him because even after all this time and all that he's done, I can't help but to be stupidly drawn to him.

I guess my poor sense of reason is really the reason why I'm here contemplating everything that I've ever done.

Suddenly, the lights in his house turned off. I guess he's heading off to bed now. Not that I care. Who am I kidding? I care. But I shouldn't. But I do, despite my attempts to just rip him out of my life. Why am I so worked up over him turning off his lights?

"Are you having fun? You know, staring at my house and all?"

I looked over at the person leaning on his car with his arms crossed in front of me and faked a smile. "Yeah, you know I just like looking at houses."

"I bet," Harry replied.

Silence followed.

That's when I really looked at him. I noticed a cut on his lip, which I am assuming is probably a result of Jase.

I made sure not to make any comments about it. I'm not really sure what will or will not cause him to snap at me at this point.

Instead, I averted my focus on his eyes. They held the same intensity as they always do. He does have a habit of staring people down. Whenever we went somewhere, I would have to stop him from making children cry.

He coughed lightly. "So, are you really moving?"

"Yeah."

"That's cool."

"Mhmm."

More silence. More avoided glances. More fun.

"How'd you find out?" I finally asked.

"Jason. Hence the little show we put on earlier."

"Hence the cut lip?"

"Hence this conversation."

"Yeah."

"Mhmm."

After another two centuries or maybe two minutes of elongated silence, I decide that it was time to go back inside. We both obviously don't know what to say to each other and I'm pretty sure that we never will. It's not worth it this late to force any conversation.

"Well, I'm heading in now. Good night."

"Wait," he interrupted as I was about to open the door. "Is it because of me?"

"What?"

"You're moving. Is it because of me? Is it because I-" he started to linger off.

He didn't finish his sentence.

Well, it's time for me to finally show him how much I have grown since the last time we talked and how I don't care anymore and how he has nothing to do with me anymore. "What if it was?" Or I can be an absolute idiot and say the stupidest thing in the world. I nearly slapped myself for saying that. Why couldn't I have been a good, unproblematic person and just flat out tell him that it wasn't and that I didn't care anymore and that the past is all in the past?

Scrutinizing myself for the way I responded to his question, I still couldn't look away from him to search for any kind of weakness or remorse. Why do I want to know? It doesn't make a difference if I do. I will still be moving regardless. My family is better off that way.

But if I feel this way then why do I want him to tell me that he would feel bad for driving me away? As my greedy eyes bore into him, awaiting for an answer that I knew wouldn't come. He remained the same. Stone-faced and uncaring.

"It isn't. I told you that I never really stay anywhere for that long."

"Yeah, I remember."

And at that moment, I smiled at him. I smiled for the times that I honestly did believe that he was my friend and for the times he absolutely annoyed the shit out of me and the times he made me cry.

I smiled because no matter what he did to me and no matter if he remembers me or what he said to me ten years from now, I will remember him. I didn't want to remember him with the feeling of pain in my chest.

"Goodnight."

With a nod, we both went our separate ways

And I tried to convince myself

That everything was okay.

---

Wow. That was dramatic. Only a few chapters left omg (not including the ones in H's pov :D)

So a lot has happened since I last updated (well, obviously since I haven't updated in like two centuries)

For example, I graduated from high school, I went to my motherland, Vietnam, I returned from Vietnam, and I am now in college. Wow. What are you guys up to? Hope you are all being safe and wonderful.

Well, thanks for reading @ the ten people who have been patiently waiting for my shitty writing <3

Love y'all

B