Background Noise [HS]

THIRTY-THREE

"Get the fuck out."

The venomous tone reminded her of the first morning shared with Harry, of the mistake made in laying her prints on something that wasn't hers to mark. Violet knew not what called for more protection – the polaroid or the guitar, but such anger in the absence of alcohol was enough to make her wonder. Her body retracted at the animosity, and the world effectively vanished as her eyelids came to erase the image of his enraged figure standing before her.

Mason could not be more her opposite. Tongue in cheek, eyebrows raised, the indifferent male spun around to face his threat. He couldn't remember the last time Harry had the nerve to stand against him. It was hard to hide the impressed smile encouraged by the thought, even with the intense gaze practically drilling right through him. He grinned, not at all fearing the impending consequences of egging someone on.

"No need for that," Mason waved him off, turning back toward the bed. Violet peeked an eye open, failing to connect with the green pair she both adored and feared, in this moment. Normally she lived for the lapse in time upon his stare meeting hers, though she couldn't bring herself to dare a glance in his direction. "I was just saying hello to our guest. Wouldn't want to be rude . . ."

The fingers at Harry's side twitched at the implication, at the frustration of every passing second that Violet was at Mason's mercy. He was entirely responsible; there never should have been a clear path to the bedroom. Better yet, he should have never let him set foot in this vicinity.

Mason and Violet didn't belong together in the same sentence, let alone under the same roof.

He would choose her. Every time, he would choose Violet.

Arm held open, Harry made his wishes clear. A living totem of what it meant to love and protect, the polaroid took a lonely glide to the bed as Violet crossed the threshold, removing herself from between the two opposing males. Once a statue, her shelter softened some with her hard-pressed to his side, tucked away from the storm and the alpha male stood at its eye. The invitation was accepted not a moment after her boggled mind processed the gesture, not a second after her feet kicked into gear and carried her forward.

Held close by a tattooed arm, the enchanting smell of vanilla disarmed the chemical warfare wracking her system, silencing the panic and worry. Mason moved in the line of an arc around the room, stalking, observing. "Protective, are we?"

Harry wasn't open to conversation. "You've said hello. Now go."

Mason didn't rather care, "I thought that side of you ceased to exist. After all, I didn't think you could handle another failure."

Violet felt her statue, once softened, start to petrify.

"Don't."

"I will admit, I am happy to see you with someone." The spines of the records bowed beneath his finger, another trail of dust disturbed by an index finger's prodding pad. His eyes, green and entirely wicked, fell upon Violet. "Pity that you seem to gravitate toward the weak ones, though."

Those words meant nothing, not when her attention was on subduing the beast coming alive beside her. She wanted to beg Mason to stop, wanted to ask why he fed on making others so miserable. What was there possibly to gain?

Mason's index and thumb perched on his chin as if contemplating something. "I thought likes were supposed to repel, not attract?"

Harry cracked.

"Enough!" The order shook Violet to her very core. Though not meant for her, she couldn't help but feel its force through the thin material separating them. Couldn't help but feel burned by the heat radiating through. "Leave."