Twizzlers

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I bring myself to a mindset of maybe getting to know Harry wouldn't be so bad. He seemed like a nice enough guy and what he did do for me at Maggie's was more than kind. I'll have to sleep on it though. Just because I was okay with it now, this very moment didn't mean I would have the same mindset tomorrow.

I sneak out of Karlie's room and back into my own down the hall. A painted 'T' claiming that the room was mine. Something Karlie and I had done on impulse on a rainy day when we were younger. But not long before I've planted myself in my own bed, laptop at hand, there's a knock at my door. "I said I need alone time." I huff, unimpressed. The knocking reoccurs and I sigh. "Please, I'm not feeling well." Once again there's a knock at my door. Now, agitated as ever, I flip my laptop to my side and stop towards the door before opening it, crossed arms.

Instead of my mother or father, it's Harry. Standing with a 12 pack of beer and twizzlers. I raise an eyebrow and he laughs. "Ya busy?"

Regular Taylor would've slammed the door and went to bed, acting like nothing ever happened. But Austin asked me to keep on open mind, and that's what I intended to do. So to start, I guess this time would be as good as any. "Come in." I say softly, pulling back my door to make room for the city boy.

"Ya know, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable at dinner. That wasn't my objective." He follows me, closing the door behind as I slide down the side of my bed.

"I would sure hope not!" I say with an iffy smile. I'm not sure if this is considered flirting or just being friendly.

"So ya like beer? Seems like the country thing." He asks, sitting beside me and being first to crack a beer with nothing but the lighter in his pocket then proceeding to hand it to me.

"Beer is good." I reply before taking a small sip. I can't honestly remember the last time I drank any kinda alcohol. Actually, that's a lie. When we were delivered the devastating news of Karlie's passing, the entire family got together and we just drank our sorrows away I guess is what you could call it. Maybe it was in honour of Karlie and her love for vodka. "Why'd ya do this?" I stretch out my legs, balancing the beer against my kneecap.

"I thought it would be nice."

"Nice?"

He chuckles. "Yeah. Nice. A nice thing for a nice girl."

"But why? You know nothing about me. For all you know I could be a psychopath."

"You're no psycho path." He rolls his eyes so effortlessly, taking a swig of the beer he hold.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, actually. I do. You're no psycho, Taylor. You're tjust misunderstood."

It goes silent for a minute and then I speak up once again as the beer runs down my throat. "Why. Why are you wasting your time on me?"

"Because wasting time on you seems like time worth wasting." He says it as if it's nothing. Like the words just roll of his tongue and he doesn't really realize what they've just done to me. As if they mean nothing, and he's not surprised. But no, the last time someone has said anything even close to that kinda line was Milo. He used line after line and that's how he swooped me off my feet. I could let sweet talk do it again. After all, anyone who can sweet talk you, they can also sweet talk someone else.

It's been awhile that we've been sitting here, eating twizzlers and coasting back beers. It's nice yet weird at the same time. Harry has demanded I tell him something about me and when I refuse he reminds me that indeed he did bring me free beer. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

He softly shrugs. "Anything."

"I can't read your mind." I say.

"You don't have to. Tell me anything!"

"This beer is good. I like it." I smirk as I take a sip.

"Nice try."

"Nice assumption for a nice guy."

He raises his eyebrows. "It went from creepy to nice? Looks like I'm moving up on the ladder!"

I chuckle along with him. I haven't felt myself laugh like that in awhile. It's a good feeling. "Okay fine... I'm twenty-two."

"Oh thank god you're of age." I playfully nudge him as he laughs. His laugh is a beautiful genuine thing and I absolutely love it. "I'm twenty six."

"Oh god you're old." I turn up my nose in disgust and the look that appears on his face sends a rumble of laughter from me flying.

The rest of the night flows on just like it is now. Throwing little hits at each other like these. And I'm going to be honest... I don't hate it. I actually particularly... Like it. A lot. By the time we've finished our second beer we're both giddy and I've learnt some pretty valuable things about Harry. Like his favourite colour is green, which just so happens to match his eyes. Okay, so maybe it's not that valuable, but it's definitely worth mentioning. "Can I ask an odd question?" I ask, mid belly rumble.

"Of course. Go ahead!"

I lick my lips, holding up a red wiggly strip of deliciousness. "Why twizzlers?"

"Well I know this little girl," he starts off, "she didn't have the most perfect upbringing. And well, instead of chocolate or skittles or anything like that, she always got twizzlers. She calls them her happy food and I don't know why exactly she took to them more than another but whenever she's upset all she wants is a twizzler. And bam. She's happy."

The night gets dragged away before my eyes. Three and a half beers down and two bags of twizzlers leaves me way too out of my mind to even comprehend the time or who was sitting beside me. Well, I mean, I knew it was Harry. That much was obvious. I just didn't realize what I was saying, what he was saying or doing. None the less I'm left tiresome and before I know it the sun is burning my eyes as it seeps through the curtains.

My palms locate my eyes at to which I force a rub. My throat burns and my head pounds. I push myself up in my bed that I'm sprawled on. I can hardly remember last night. Except the story about the twizzlers. For some reason that sticks with me. I don't know how long Harry and I had stayed up last night. Nor do I remember him leaving what so ever. But for some odd, strange reason, a smile is embedded in my cheeks. And I can't even really explain it.

My phone buzzes from the side table and with lazy eyes and scratchy throat I answer the call. "Hello?"

"Hey Tay." The voice sounds familiar when I finally realize it's Harry.

I rub my eyes and let out a yawn. "Hi Harry. What time is it? Wait- how did you get my number?"

"It was as simple as texting myself from your phone last night as you chugged one of many beers."

I chuckle and roll my eyes which sends a shooting pain through my head. "Sneaky sneaky."

A/N

Ahhhh sorry this was really odd and awkward and unimpressive chapter lol

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