the song for this chapter is "Demons, Live London Sessions/2013," by Imagine Dragons :)
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When you feel my heat, look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide
Don't get too close, it's dark inside
It's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide
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Finley
I woke up to the sound of a loud thump, promptly followed by a, "Ow! You fucker!"
I prepared myself to open my eyes to harsh sunlight, but upon opening them, I found that it was actually quite dark in the room. I turned my head to the side to see that the curtains were pulled shut.
I rolled my head back towards where the noise was coming from, and as my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, I began to make out Harry's silhouette.
"Harry?" I mumbled out, sitting up slightly.
"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you, I just came to get a change of clothes, and it's so dark in here that...well, the dresser kind of snuck up on me," I heard him chuckle in the dark.
"Here, I'll turn on the lamp," I offered, reaching my arm over and fiddling around until my hand grasped the switch.
"No, no no, you don't have to-" Harry started to blabber out, but it was too late. My fingers had twisted the switch, and soon, the light flooded the room, both Harry and I squinting at the sudden change of lighting.
After a few seconds of blinking my way to visibility, Harry was crystal clear in my vision.
His face looked panicked, and I didn't understand why until my eyes began to scan down his body.
The first color that I was able to register on his clothes was red, the sight of it instantly making my stomach churn and my body tense up a bit. Splatters of red covered his old t-shirt and sweatpants, and instantly, I found myself wondering who he had killed while I was asleep.
But then, as he stood there like a deer stuck in headlights, other colors began to register in my mind.
It wasn't just red that dotted the fabric of his worn-in clothing, it was blue, pink, green, purple, yellow...every color under the sun seemed to claim a spot on the clothes that hung loosely on his tall frame.
Was that...was that paint?
And if it was, why did he look so embarrassed? When I had figured out that he had murdered someone, he didn't even show a hint of regret on his face. But as he stood in front of me now, at who knows what hour of the night or morning or whatever time it may have been, he looked as guilty and sheepish as I had ever seen him.
A few splatters of orange and a light mint color decorated his tired-looking face. He looked so defeated that I had caught him in the act of something that seemed so pure.
"I just...I just came to get a change of clothes," he sighed, reaching up a hand with a few smears of sky blue on it up to the back of his neck to rub at it awkwardly.
YOU ARE READING
full throttle || h.s. ||
Fanfiction"Who's that over there?" The man looked at me like I was from outer space, or perhaps like I lived under a rock, maybe a mixture of both. "Him? They call him Full Throttle," he chuckled with a hint of nervousness in his voice. I scrunched...
