Tribulation [h.s]

22

"Unfair, unfair, unfair, unfair."

-

What is freedom?

Is true freedom this long, elaborate concept that many will never truly have or experience? Is freedom just a thought — a theory perhaps — one that people could only ever dream of? Is it liberation, deliverance, emancipation, and free will?

What is freedom?

I wouldn't know, but I can certainly imagine.

Maybe freedom isn't just liberation, deliverance, emancipation, and free will. Perhaps it's as simple as control and release – both of which I've never had before. Freedom is a taunting thought, and I can feel the desperation for it in my bones some days.

So, when I lose myself in the greens of Harry's eyes, I convince myself that it doesn't exist. I'm bound in hell's shackles, and I can't seem to shake them.  I can't seem to shake Harry, and I have a feeling he won't ever let me go.

Harry may be the harbinger of my worst fears, but he's shown me mercy. I mean, hell, he had me dangling off of a building. I was right where he wanted me. All he had to do was let go. I should've died that night, but he refused to let that happen yet again.

I don't think I'll ever understand why.

Ever since that night on the rooftop, we haven't spoken. Things are different between us now, but I don't understand what's different. I won't talk to him, and he refuses to talk to me. Silence usually fills the air between us whenever he's close, and he never lingers near me for long. No more teasing smiles, no more taunting, no more threats, no more cruel treatment. Nothing. The only thing that remains the same is the red lights in this room, and they don't bother me as much as they once did.

He's looking at me again. I had felt the burn of his gaze, and only after a few seconds of searching, I find him across the room from where I stand. This is the longest he's looked at me in days.

And, for the millionth time, I'm frozen under his steady, intense gaze.

Or maybe I'm hypnotized.

Jade sways her body, and she lets her hands run up his thighs when she kneels before him. Something I've never felt before, something heavy, settles in my stomach as I watch her hands trace up his body. She even grabs his large hands and places them on her hips at one point. I want to look away, but I can't.

I can tell he's uninterested in Jade because he's looking at me. I take up one-hundred percent of his attention. All he sees is me. I'm not sure why. Even from across a room filled with drugs and dozens of people lost in euphoria, something unfamiliar, something strange and overpowering, fills the space between us.

I can't even get angry about it.

I'm looking at him too.

His eyes are still daunting and cold, but they're missing that usual edge to them that always makes me nervous and afraid. And who am I to look away? His eyes may seem empty, but they're still, by far, the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.

His eyebrows suddenly furrow after a moment. Mine does the same at his unexpected reaction. Staring at me, looking rather frustrated and confused, he loses himself in the depths of his thoughts. I really wish I knew what he was thinking. He seems to offer me one last, lingering glance before he drops his hands from Jade's body and stands. I watch as Jade goes stiff and panic racks her body when Harry tries leaving.

What I see next is sad. The sex appeal Jade always seems to be emitting dwindles into smoke. Her once sensual touch falls to one of concern. There is something more in her touch as she runs her hands up his shoulders and asks if he's okay - asks if she did something wrong.