69*

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AN: you already know i had to use the namesake for this chapter. giddy up!

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Her lips are like the galaxies edge

And her kiss the color

Of a constellation

Falling into place

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BENTLEY

THREE DAYS UNTIL SANTA FE

"Liz, I need the torch. Come hold the door in place." I tell her.

It had been just Liz and I working the past few days because Harry proved to be completely useless. I had snapped at him for his cluelessness and we argued over it so badly that it snowballed and led to him walking out of the shop.

TWO DAYS AGO

"Harry, the torque wrench." I repeat myself for what seems like the fifth time in ten minutes.

We'd been on edge lately, the pressure of getting this truck fixed was getting to me and I knew he was beating himself up over not being able to help the way he wanted to.

He broke one of the windows I replaced yesterday on accident, which pushed us behind schedule for a few hours. I bitched at him about it, and he looked apologetic, but we didn't talk much after.

I had also been pretty tense considering everything that had happened with Lucas. When he told me the Pontiac belonged in a junkyard, it hurt more than I'd thought it would.

It just felt like he had insulted my father, and I hated the way it felt. I hated the clench in my stomach and the rage, and I let it consume me.

He kept going too, tossing insults and sending me over the edge. Harry wasn't there to talk me down and I wasn't too good at talking myself down yet.

Everything came at once, the feeling of grief for Rumie which had subsided came back and tried to take over, and then feeling after feeling flooded.

I tried to keep myself under control but there was a gun in my hand and no way I'd be using it on myself. Everything was so loud and my mind was begging for some quiet. I just needed to shut him up.

So I shot Lucas.

It worked. He shut up.

What? Crying doesn't count as noise all the time.

We have been bickering a lot, Harry and I. My emotions had me all over the place and I knew that taking it out on him wasn't right, but I couldn't help myself.

"Is this not the torque wrench?" he asks, pulling me back into our conversation.

"I've answered this three times. That is the torque wrench." I say, trying to make eye contact and pointing at the tool on the wall.

He doesn't grant me the satisfaction of looking me in the eye though, and it frustrates me.

It doesn't feel right, not being able to hide in his emerald irises... eye contact with Harry used to be a privilege when we first met, and now that we were together it was a given.

I wasn't used to not having them there on command, and now that he had taken them away, I was itching for the satisfaction of feeling at home again.

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