Carolina [h.s]

chapter nine

can you see me? i'm waiting for the right time
i can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine can you see me using everything to hold back?
***

Vada
//

As soon as we pull into the empty parking lot of the old motel, the engine kills in front of room four and suddenly I'm back home from a long weekend.

With blurry vision I glanced over at the bruised boy next to me. Outgrown hair falls at the sides of his face as he lights up yet another cigarette like he couldn't get enough.

I felt sick from the fast car ride as Harry drove over the speed limit and swerved around any cars on the highway that were going too slow for him. Tobacco smoke fills the car and I have to open the door to let myself out before I let the smell get me sick.

My Doc Martens are heavy on my feet as they touch the gravel and still no words are exchanged between us. But I don't really care for conversation with the boy who never speaks, and instead I'm more focused on trying not to throw up.

I move slowly as I shut the heavy car door, and trouble follows after me, eyeing me almost with concern. But instead of saying anything he lets me turn my back to him to head towards my house.

It was almost five a.m, and I needed to get to my bed and crash, before my grandma woke up and caused a scene.

I hear sneakers on the gravel behind me just as I almost trip and fall over my own two feet. His large hands grab onto my sides so I don't fall face first on the ground. "You're a mess." he holds me up and I meet with his blacked out green.

"You're no better." I state truthfully and he doesn't disagree as he stands me upwards so our chests are touching.

I inhale faded cologne and fresh laundry soap, mixed with tobacco. But instead of it making me sick this time, it only makes me wanna pull him closer.

"It's just who I am, I can't help it." He moves hair out of my eyes "you're not supposed to be the same, remember?" he asks like he already knows.

But no, he doesn't know. He doesn't know anything about me, just like he won't let me know anything about him. It's not fucking fair— I will not let him walk all over me like that.

"For someone who acts like they don't give a shit about anything, you do a good job of paying attention." my head pounds and I'm too tired to have another conversation like this with him.

Harry leans in and our noses are almost touching, and I almost stop breathing at his closeness, and the fact that his hands are still on me.

"We've both got things we don't say out loud, and I know you drink them away so you don't suffer." His words almost make me stop breathing.

"I pay attention to the similarities, and you're just like me, pretty girl." he smirks.

Hearing his words is like being naked in front of a crowd, and I hate him for continuing to think he knows. He doesn't know, nobody knows. He's a mother fucking—

"You don't know shit—"

I go to push him away but he grabs onto my upper arms. "Don't hurt yourself, sweetheart." he says like he cares but it's far from it and it's malicious.

"Let me take you to your room, before you pass out in your driveway." he suggests, forgetting about any words he said before and I hope I can too.

I'm too nauseous and dizzy to fight with him, or say anything else for that matter, so I let him drag me towards my dark sleeping house.