antidote | h.s.

18 - we belong

ashton mackenzie

I hate that the first thing my eyes went to was Ilene's arms around Harry.

I hate the way it made me feel.

I hate that I've been feeling that way since the moment I met Harry.

I hate that I've spent the past two days regretting my life because of how much I've been feeling about Harry.

I hate how much it hurts.

I spent a majority of yesterday wallowing in my own self pity over my life altering, mountainous mistake. That means sitting in bed avoiding my phone and responsibilities, listening to my self deprecating thoughts on repeat until I fell asleep, then waking up and doing it all over again.

A really great cycle.

By the time I decided to get up and shower away the weight of my depression naps, my phone was ringing.

I was about ready to ignore it, knowing I had a few texts from Harry on there, and the last thing I wanted to do was speak to him, but when I saw it was Drew I immediately became worried.

I don't know what came over me when I asked Drew if I could talk to Harry, but I'm glad I did. I think.

I then spent the rest of the night debating on cancelling, staying in with Nova and watching a full season of Shameless in one night, but I decided against it. As much as Harry isn't my favorite person on the planet at the moment, I still don't want to disappoint him.

Oh, let's be honest, he'll probably always be pretty high on my favorite people on the planet list, no matter what, so who the fuck am I kidding?

So, I decided to go. I was an anxious mess the whole way here, and it didn't get better when I got inside.

I wasn't expecting to walk up to the loft door open, and I definitely wasn't expecting the first thing I heard to be my name, followed by Harry telling everyone to not say anything to me about something.

The way everyone acted when I questioned them didn't help, and neither did Harry's frozen stature, refusing to turn around and look at me. He seems guilty, and I don't even know what about.

It feels like everyone knows something I don't, and I hate that feeling. Especially because it seems like the thing I don't know about is about me.

I have a feeling they know about what happened at the diner, and that thought makes me want to crawl into my own stomach and burrow in there until next winter. I'm already embarrassed enough as it is, I don't need all of my new potential friends knowing about the most humiliating thing I've ever done.

This is why I don't let myself have feelings. No embarrassment over expressing your feelings when you don't have them.

"Hey, Ash."

"How are you?" I awkwardly repeat my question that he didn't answer, as I shift on my feet and fight the urge to watch them on the floor instead of him.

It hurts to look at him.

"I'm good-- I mean, I'm okay. Kind of," he stumbles while Ilene shuts the door behind me, and I have a feeling he said that because he doesn't want to seem like he's been fine, which he probably has, when I've obviously been a mess since I got home on Thursday.

I nod at his answer as the room goes silent, and I glance around to the rest of the people in the room, all of them stuck with their eyes to the floor.

A knock on the door saves us all, as Drew speaks up and walks over to the coffee table to put down the cleaning supplies he's been holding this whole time, "Ashton, there's a shit ton of booze in the kitchen. Have Harry get you something."