seven - bloody grins & kittens

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harry pov:

i open the door after the long nap i took and i see lizzy passed out not too far from it. normally i wouldn't be so judgmental but considering i saw her talking to dylan earlier today i felt need to process harsh words through my mind about her, because fuck dylan.

i walk down the hall and softly grazed my fingers across the aching area just above my jawbone and wince. it's probably bruised. i have no clue how i'm going to explain it to whitnee, since she's such a curious cat and likes to question everything.

i have one day for this to heal and i highly doubt it'd be good by tomorrow, in fact it'll probably only get worse. i'm not too worried about my bruise though, i'm more worried about how i lost control and put my hands on one of my own.

almost everyone knows that the only time i willingly put my hands on my own is if i planning on killing them, or if i'm just goofing around. i wasn't playing with dylan whatsoever, but i had no intent whatsoever to end his life. i was kinda just being a straight asshole.

what's gotten into me?

dylan's stupid bloody grin keeps replaying in my head, which turns my face more and more into a frown beyond my comfort. i honestly don't know what came over me. i've been wondering why i got so pissed with dylan all day.

i've been wondering why my emotions have been so unstable as well. everything was fine, i had my date set and everything was supposed to be okay, i was supposed to be okay. i don't know if whitnee saved me or is holding me back, but as of now it feels like the latter.

i feel like spoiled milk gone way passed it's time for expiry. i feel like a rabid dog treasured so much by it's owner, they refuse to put me down even though i'm causing more harm than good for the both of us. i feel scared to even breath around someone as delicate as whitnee, i know a single touch i could give her will make her wilt and shrivel like california poppy deprived of sunlight and water for years.

as i was falling asleep i came to the conclusion that i think whitnee is just too good for all of this shit. dylan's fucked and so am i, so i don't even know why i'm involving myself with her because she's better than all of us.

at least i'm aware of that anyway. dylan on the other hand probably just wants to play around with her and see what he can do with her. hell, i know i'm no saint too and i'm just as guilty with doing the exact same shit with countless amount of girls, but none of them were whitnee-esque, and dylan doesn't get that. he lives in his own head, he doesn't pay attention to those around him, only his fucking self.

i could've stopped him from going out with her if i wanted to. but i decided to use this situation somewhat to my advantage. i told him to make sure to get whitnee off of our backs and to answer all of her questions and deny all of her claims.

i'm curious about what else they did on the date, or if he even listened to what i said at all. if he touched her like he did last night, i'd be happy to kick him in the gut a good few times till blood starts spurting and—god, what am i saying, this is dylan, he's basically a brother, why am i thinking like this?

it just enrages me so much to see whitnee be so blind to what he was trying to do yesterday. dylan isn't a romantic, nor is he even sensual. he just wants to fuck, and that was an act of lust. the fact that whitnee didn't see that further proves my point about how naive she is and how much i don't want dylan manipulating or exploiting that.

i realize that i've been standing at the bottom of the staircase for quite sometime now so i move towards the kitchen and pour myself some luke-warm tea. i really need to get a mug or something though, we only have solo cups here. whitnee has got me kind of interested in that stuff. it started out with me barely knowing what tea actually is, which i originally thought was warm juice and later discovered that it's dried crushed leaves, to me giving lizzy a grocery list with green tea being the number 1 item.

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