Animosity

5

Harry's POV:

"Oh yeah," I spit. 

" I'll get to you before you even get the chance." I stayed in the doorway for a moment just to watch the fear spread across her face. 

It doesn't. 

She just stands there, frozen with her eyes locked on mine. I break eye contact, finally walking down the dark hallway into the living room. Niall and Rachel were lying on the couch in each other's arms, the television playing rolling the credits of whatever conjuring movie almost made me fall asleep. I bend over the sleeping couple, shaking Niall's leg. He shifted under the blanket, lifting his hand to shake me away. I stood there for a moment, waiting for him to at least open his eyes. He doesn't, rolling more into the armrest of the sectional. I turn around, glancing at the clock in the kitchen. The white tile was illuminated by the small red light, reading 1:46. I took the opportunity to stretch my arms out behind my back letting out a long yawn in defeat. Niall would have to stay here for the night without me. He'd probably be confused in the morning, but I had better things I had to do. 

I took one last look at Niall, now slightly snoring with his mouth open. Rachel had managed to snuggle her way into his chest, her face in the nape of his neck. The knitted blanket wrapped around them while they slept as peacefully as ever. 

Yeah, I'm not waking his ass up. 

I turned towards the front door, grabbing Niall's car keys off the entryway table. He could figure out another way to get home in the morning. So much for stopping by to just apologize, we had been here since around dinner hour. I was famished, opening the creaky wooden door and entering the cold carpeted hallway. Turning to my right, I headed down the steps to the front foyer of the building. The cool air hit me, allowing me a chance to finally take a deep breath. There were still stragglers stumbling in and out of the pub, barely making it above the curb. I shoved past a man sitting on the sidewalk, his head curled over in between his knees. By the look of the slender woman hovering above him, I assumed he was in the doghouse. 

Looking up, I read the large gold sign of the building. 

Dickens Tavern

Fucking cheesy if you ask me. Regardless of the grungy-looking exterior, I headed inside the front doors of the pub. A drink would help me clear my head a little and reflect on what I just had to do above the building. I didn't want to do it, but I wasn't really left much of a choice. She definitely knew more than she was leading on, but for now, this had to be an afterthought. I pushed through the heavy glass doors, entering the dimly light pub. The space was small and carpeted with an ugly dark red. The walls were red brick, covered in black chalkboard signs with unreadable cursive. I began walking towards the bar, which consisted of a long wooden counter with velvet green barstools. Sliding into a seat, the bartender immediately made eye contact with me. For the time of night, the place was busier than I expected. 

" What can I get you?" he asked in a thick British accent. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, throwing it on the sticky counter. 

" Something hard. Just keep them coming." I muttered, my elbows leaning ahead of me. He peeled the bill off the counter, sticking it into the pocket of his black jeans. 

" You got it." 

Before I knew it, he placed a crystal glass full of bourdon under my nose. I nodded in approval, slipping my cell phone out of my pocket. 

Gemma couldn't know about this. 

I looked down at my screen which was riddled with text messages from my sister.