Guns For Hands: A Violent Haven

Chapter 7

Emerson’s POV

It’s been three weeks since I last saw Harry, and although I wouldn’t say I missed him, I can say that he’s one of the only people I’ve tolerated to work on this project with. The assignment has made things awkward. I’ve opened up to him in ways I’ve never opened up to anyone, including my mother.

I’ve learned to see him in a different light. One of zero judgement and one hundred percent  tolerance and support. We’re very similar in that way because I can tell he’s trying to get me to confide in him, while also attempting to open himself up to me. I’ve only known this kid for a little less than two months and not a day goes by that I can’t help but think of him, especially after that project. I mean could you blame me?

That kiss was quick, but full of something, something I couldn’t quite grasp. Maybe it was that stability I had been searching for my whole life. This boy has made my life a bigger, more complicated mess than it was before.

After he left, the day of the kiss, my mother continued to pester me about him. Who is he? Are you guys dating? Are you gonna see him again? Are you gonna bring him by? Will I be able to properly meet him? All questions never assessed two teenagers alone in a bedroom kissing. I can’t blame her though, I’m as clueless as she is about him.

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I walked round the corner onto my street, deciding today was a good day to walk home from school to clear my head. God knows the accidents I could have caused while daydreaming and thinking about him.

As I headed to my front door, I made it clear, to myself, that my obsession with him only came to be because he is the only person that I’ve trusted and opened up to sincerely on a personal level, which he also seemed to understand.

I went to fetch the keys from my bag, when I saw him sitting on the stairs of my front door. My breathing hitched and I got nervous. Why the fuck is he here?

I stomped past him, towards the front door. I made an attempt to close it, but his foot wedged in between.

“What do you want Harry?” I asked impatiently.

“To talk” he answered, his voice rough and clipped.

“There’s nothing to say. If you’re concerned about the project, I handed it in on time three days ago. It’s all taken care of! Don’t worry you didn’t have to be there!”

“It’s not about the project! I want to talk about you!”

“What about me?” I looked through the open crack, trying to find his eyes. His long hair covering his face.

“I just want to explain why I’ve been gone for about three weeks.” He took his foot from the doorway and I took my chance and closed the door, locking it.

“Emerson!”

“Harry I don’t want to talk! It’s stupid! Why do I care why you were gone for a whole three weeks without telling me! We’re not even friends!”

“Let me explain...give me two minutes.”

“Clock’s ticking.”

“I’ve been locked up in my room thinking.”

“For three weeks?”

“Emerson, I’ve never been ready to open up to anyone. I mean not even family Then you walk in and I finally feel like I have someone who understands me, you know?” I nod, even though I know he can’t see me. “Well I’ve been thinking for the past three weeks that I really want to be there for you and I would hope you could return the favor.”

I looked through the window and saw him staring down at his shoes pulling on the hem of his shirt as a coping mechanism for his nerves.

“Harry, I don’t like you in that way.”

“Yeah Em, I know that! You’ve made it abundantly clear before. This is just my awkward attempt at asking you to be my friend.” His eyes shot up as I unlocked the door slowly.

“I’m a terrible friend.”

“That’s understandable.” I glared at him. “You’re secretive, demanding, controlling, intrusive, a know-it-all…”

“You’re chances that this friendship are just circling down the drain you jerk!” I punched him in the arm.

“Violent! Wow a new one to add to the running list!” I laughed.

“You’re stupid, makeshift apology will have to do.”

“Makeshift?” Harry scoffed and put his hand over his chest. “I’m hurt! I actually rehearsed that!”

“Wow that was Oscar-worthy!”

“Thank you! Finally you appreciate my work.

“Well what would you have done if I didn’t accept it?” I asked curiously.

“Annoyed you until you would have accepted. Followed you home, rang your bell excessively, blow up your phone with messages.”

“Oh, I think the term you’re looking for is stalker?”

“And I think the least you can do is let me in after my ‘Oscar-worthy’ apology!”

“And why would I let a stalker in my house?”

“Because this handsome stalker is the only person in the who you can talk to about Dandy’s clown persona!”