21 Murders | Harry Styles AU (discontinued)

XIX. Quiescent

quiescent (adjective): in a state or period of inactivity or dormancy; mysteriously calm

Harry's POV

"Give me your hand,'' Noelle instructs, turning the faucet on and testing the temperature by sticking two fingers under the stream. Lifting my hand from my lap, I place it onto the counter and watch as she bites her lip, focusing on the large cuts littering my knuckles.

As the last ten minutes have gone by, we haven't talked about what just happened. I'm almost a hundred percent certain that she is still trying to process all that has happened, and quite frankly, I'm in no rush to hold another serious conversation tonight.

My head throbs with a small headache- as does hers, most likely- and I comply to her orders once again when she tells me to give her my other hand. The serious look on her face consists of a bitten bottom lip and scrunched eyebrows, my view from below giving me the best possible outlook.

"Does it hurt?" Noelle asks, tilting her head to my angle before looking back down to my knuckles. Dried blood has crusted over my skin and beneath rises a heavy flow of wine-stained blood, as well.

"No,'' I reply, shaking my head. A wince leaves my mouth as she turns on the tap, my statement out-dated with the new feeling of touch. The cool water rinses away the red, making a pink-ish flush swim around in the sink before it drains.

"According to my sixth grade math teacher and her exuberant way of disciplining,'' Noelle starts. "We need to wash, elevate, and then bandage your cut. It looks pretty deep,'' she lifts my left hand, examining the jagged cut further.

"Math teacher?" I cock an eyebrow.

"Yep,'' she nods. "It's a long story."

"Oh God, what'd you do?" My mind races at the possibilities of what a young Noelle could have done in order to learn such things from her math teacher. And as the small smile on her faces builds to her eyes, something tells me I'm going to be surprised with what she's going to tell me.

"I had a slight mishap on the playground; ended up eating a mouthful of cement- which effectively took out both my front baby teeth-and scraped up my knees pretty bad. You could say it was a learning experience."

A smirk forms on my lips, leaving when my hand is pulled from the cool water- that was just starting to relieve pain- and is pressed onto with a dry cloth. Red bubbles up lightly on the surface of torn skin a few times before Noelle lets out a huff and takes a seat on the sink, pressing my hand onto the tops of her thighs and resting her hand on top to ensure pressure.

"How come I'm not surprised with your relatively life-long amount of clumsiness?" I challenge, waiting for an offensive come back. My shoulder is slapped lightly in response and a light laugh given in return. "Once a klutz, always a klutz."

"I can't help that I was born with one leg longer than the other."

"Is this a proven fact or just an assumption?"

"It very well could be both,'' Noelle shrugs, swinging her legs back and forth as she glances at my knuckles ever so often. "So you're telling me that you've never had a childhood slip up that's left you with a life-time lesson and a permanent scar?"

"I'd rather not confirm,'' I gulp uneasily.

"You're not denying it, either."

"Fine,'' I sigh. "When I was four I walked in on my parents creating a sibling. Is that emotionally scaring enough for your virgin ears?" Red flushes in her cheeks as she nods feverishly. "Thought so."