Nowhere In Particular // H.S.

Twenty-Four: "Go Go Chaos"

I'm not really one of those people who thrive in uncomfortable situations. I've seen Laurel do it countless times, work her way through people, batting her eyelashes at the right moments and twisting things to get what she wants out of the situation. As for me, without her I'd sit in the corner for most situations.

Now I wouldn't say I've completely turned a new leaf with this aspect of my personality, but it's certainly improved. Because not long ago I would have completely hidden away in a situation like this but now I've almost perfected the art of pretending to know what I'm doing.

It's musty, dark and the smell of sweat lingers in the air but it doesn't feel out of place considering we're in a bar that a good percentage of men would consider calling paradise. I'm one of the few women in the place, which Harry seems slightly uncomfortable with since he's insistent to make a point of our togetherness every couple of seconds, touching my waist or kissing the top of my head.

I like to think I'm not easily persuaded and that I have my own will that is stronger than what anyone else is trying to get me to do but there are some people I have a hard time saying no to. Laurel being one of those and Harry being another. This doesn't mean I can't say no because I've successfully accomplished that with both of them, but I am much more likely to do something a little out of my norm if they're involved.

The bartender didn't question my I.D. he barely even blinked an eye when I sat down at the bar to order something. He did almost fall over with laughter when I first tried to order a piña colada though, claiming that they were "a bar in the middle of Nebraska, not god damn Mexico," but I shook it off like it was a joke and seconds later Harry stepped in, ordering something for the both of us.

After the bartender went onto the next customer, moving down the bar to the opposite side, Harry told me he didn't think it was that silly to ask for such a drink. He claimed any bar that refuses to serve drinks that usually come with a tiny umbrella should really reconsider their priorities. I laughed, kissing him on the cheek as a way to say thank you for making me feel better and then we downed the drinks in front of us.

It doesn't take much for me to start feeling the effects of the alcohol and everything quickly starts to become a happy blur. Harry's tolerance is obviously much higher than mine, but he's already had far more than me so there isn't much of difference between the two of us.

I've watched him play pool with a man who is much larger and has even more tattoos than he does, cheering him on with each turn. I find it funny to see the contrast between the two of them. Harry's tall but this man is large both ways. And even though a decent proportion of Harry's body is covered in tattoos, his feel far less intimidating than the man's he is up against.

The game ends with Harry winning and me running over to him to jump on him, celebrating far too loudly for a lousy game of pool. Harry shakes hands with the slightly scary man and we make our way back over to the bar where we were sitting before.

"You look nice," Harry smiles at me as he sips from the glass in his hand.

"Thank you," I smile back at him before looking down at my hands.

The amount of effort that went into how I look right now isn't much different than it has been since I've known Harry, embracing my imperfections and not caring nearly as much about the frizziness of my hair. But I did take a shower before we decided to go out and I'm sure that's made a difference.

"You do that well," he nods his head, the words slightly slurred as he speaks.

"Do what well?" I ask.

"Be effortless," he smiles again, shaking his head as he does, almost like he can't believe it. "All you have to do is smile and I'm falling on my knees. And I swear you get better with each moment that passes... I'm so entirely into you, Greta."