Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

The walk back to my apartment was excruciating.

Harry talked. A lot.

He would not shut up.

I thought that he was trying to lighten the mood after our awkward first encounter, but his incessant chatter was just pissing me off more than anything. My painfully throbbing hand and now excessively sober mind were not in the right state to have to endure it. Especially at God knows what hour of the night it currently was.

"Did you end up telling your friends that you were leaving?" Harry asked, trying to match my pace as I attempted to speed up out of earshot; if only to shut him up for even a minute.

"I already told you, I had no way to tell them. My one friend still has my phone and I wasn't able to get back in without a stamp." I grumbled.

"Aren't they going to worry about where you went?" The sincerity in his voice struck some sort of nerve in me.

"Aren't your friends going to worry about where you went?" I asked, whipping around to face him, annoyance creeping its way into my tone. I stared at him, crossing my arms.

Harry stopped abruptly, quickly bringing a finger underneath the tampon hanging out of his nose to ensure that it doesn't fall out. Confusion swept across his face as he looked down at me.

"What's your problem? Why'd we stop?" He muttered, sniffling slightly, breaking eye contact with me to tip his head back and finger at the blood still dripping out of his one exposed nostril. "I was just asking."

"You! You're my problem!" I snapped angrily, turning away from him to run my fingers through my hair in exasperation. "You haven't stopped talking since the minute we left the club and it's making my head hurt more than my damn hand!"

I didn't look back at him as I started to walk away, but he gripped my arm to prevent me from going anywhere. I quickly yanked out of his hold and stepped back from him.

"Stop touching me! Do you not remember what happened the last time you did that?" I seethed, holding my arms up to my chest.

"Honestly, what is your deal?!" Harry growled, throwing his arms in the air. "The only reason I was talking so much is because you were basically a fucking mute over there. Sorry, I was trying to hold a conversation from two ends - it's harder than it seems! And maybe neither your head nor your hand would be hurting if you hadn't punched me and gotten us into this situation in the first place."

"You think I don't know that?" My laboured breathing made my words come out at a higher pitch than anticipated and I cleared my throat before speaking again. "I'm sorry for punching you and I'm sorry that I didn't exactly want to make small talk with the man who I am taking home to clean up from an injury that I caused! This isn't exactly a situation for me to joke around in."

I clenched my jaw, hoping that the sarcasm in my tone had come out with as much confidence as intended. Maybe I was being rude. Maybe I did go too far. At this point, I didn't care.

All I knew as of right now was that I was mad about more than one thing that had gone on tonight and that Harry was pissing me off the most. This was a bad idea to bring him to my home. I should have left him at the club to figure out his broken nose on his own. I had half a mind to kill him when we got back to my place.

"Don't you think that maybe I should be the one all bent out of shape in this situation? I mean, I saw you puking – you had to have at least had some fun before we got here. I didn't get any of that! And I'm the one who got punched!" Harry took a step towards me and I stood taller, thinking that maybe if I got closer to his eye level, he wouldn't notice the trembling in my knees. "Also, you apologize too fucking much. It's annoying."

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