Limbo [h.s]

22

Chapter 22 Harry's POV

* I glance around the busy bar area when something, or better yet someone catches my attention. I shake my head trying to see if I'm hallucinating but when her figure remains put on that bar stool on the other side of the room the crease in between my eyebrows deepens.

Looks like Isabel May is in for a treat tonight. *

This is perfect.

Just fucking spectacular.

One fucking night, just one is all I asked for God. Is that so much to ask?

I just wanted one night where I didn't have to worry about the shit going on in my life. But noooo here I am, sitting 5 metres away from the one person I didn't want to deal with tonight.

Isabel.

I don't know how long I spend glaring at her from across the room dogging off conversations with men trying to feel her up, but I guess it was a while because when I went to drink the rest of my beer I realised that there was none left.

I look down into my cup and frown. I don't remember drinking that much.

I wait to catch the bartenders attention as I drum my hands on the table to the beat of the music.

I get lost in my own mind questions running around like mad men inside my brain.

Why the fuck was she even here?

Did she know I was going to be here?

Is she trying to catch me when I'm off guard?

Does she want me to approach her or is she going to come up to me?

I glance at her using my peripheral vision, her head was hung low, and shoulders were dropped like she's trying to hide herself from the world, in the mist of it all while drowning herself in shots like it's water, not even flinching at the taste.

Does she even know I'm here watching her?

I shake my head at her behaviour, if she's not careful she is going to get alcohol poisoning at how fast she's consuming those.

Should I go over there?

I sigh and look back towards the bar tender, why the fuck is it taking so long to get a drink Jesus Christ.

"OI" I yell over the top of the music directing my voice towards the man behind the counter. When the man looks over quite shocked at my outrage I scream "WHISKEY.NEAT" while grabbing my wallet out of my back pocket and slamming a ten dollar note on the table.