Deliverance [h.s.]

forty | three's a party

I had a thousand bad times

So what's another time to me? 

A Thousand Bad Times || Post Malone

*************

I took the stairs one at a time, pushing the unruly damp hair from my face, letting it fall down my back as I walked. Jax and Harry were sitting on the couch with space between them, zoned out on the TV. My muffled steps broke Harry's attention, standing to meet me at the bottom of the stairwell.

I gave him a half-smile as I stared at his messy waves, curls undone from the weather and wear of the day. His body dressed with relaxation stood before me with a gentle grin, glistening green eyes.

"I'm going to go shower real quick too, you can sit in my room or down here; whichever you're most comfortable with." His voice was a soft whisper, rough hand running over mine with a small squeeze before disappearing up the stairs with quick steps two at a time.

I looked back and forth between the couch and the pace above, deciding where I wanted to place myself for the time being. Upstairs sounded quiet, nice, free of any possible awkward interactions but on the other hand, it doesn't sound too bad to sit with Jax.

When we got back a little while ago, he was sitting in the same spot. I went straight to the shower when we got here, wanting to wash the blood from my hair and send the memories of this morning down the drain. Now, I'm finished with Harry switching roles with me and Jax is still stone sat on the plush seat.

I made my final decision, shuffling towards the living room. The TV was playing through commercials as I quickly moved in front of Jax's view to sit on the other side of him. His eye contact with the screen didn't break.

I snuggled back, my feet no longer reaching the ground. My fingers instinctively went to the opposite hand, motioning to fiddle with my rings but I was met with bare skins, my silver jewelry upstairs in the bathroom with Harry; leaving me nothing to fill my uncomfortable silence with.

"What are you watching?" I spoke quietly to Jax, unsure if he was even alive.

"Dance Moms," Jax's voice took me by surprise. I don't know what was more shocking, him speaking or him watching Dance Moms in his free time. "Abby Lee Miller is one scary bitch."

A small giggle broke my lips, keeping my attention on Jax as he laser focused on the show in front of him. Children moving on the screen in fluid motions with Jax vision trailing them intently. His eyes wore heavy bags, nearly black and blue underneath from the lack of sleep. He looked dead in the most alive way possible.

Without blinking he sits forwards, picking up an uncapped water bottle from the coffee table, bringing it to his lips with a full gulp before removing it and extending his arm out towards me.

"Vodka?" His eyes avoidant of me as I look around with a questioning expression.

"What?" I ask back.

"Vodka, it's vodka. Do you want some?" I narrowed my vision, knitting my eyebrows as my lips folded to a smile at his words.

"Why do you have vodka in a plastic water bottle? I know you guys have nice glasses, why not use one of those?"

"Gotta stay humble," With that his head lazily turns to me, eyes dull of life, "So, you want some or not?"

"Ah, fuck it," I take the bottle from his hand with a slacked shrug.

I brought the bottle to my lips, gulping back the burning liquid. My body shuddered from the sick taste but I persevered through, knowing soon the burn would be replaced with a familiar warmth of comfort. I kicked back as much as I could in one breath, the plastic crinkling from my grip as I removed it from my lips with a deep exhale from my mouth.