Sage

7

I got up a few times during the night to use the restroom, then again to drink water to soothe my drying throat. I didn't fully go to sleep until around ten in the morning, so when I'm awoken by three heavy knocks on my door at one in the afternoon, I'm irritated and groggy.

I know there are bags under my eyes as I climb out of bed, my eyes stinging from the sleep and my jaw opening in a yawn. I pad into the living room, then to the front door, looking through the peephole and throwing my head back into a groan when I see a familiar set of brown waves.

He looks frustrated, running a hand through his hair as the other rested on his hip. He slammed his palm against the fragile wood once more and I've had enough, swinging the door open and narrowing my eyes at him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" My voice is raspy from sleep.

He doesn't answer, only pushing right past me and storming in, mumbling incoherencies under his breath.

"Harry,"

I slam the door shut and spin on my heel to follow him annoyedly. I barely had time to brush the sleep out of my breath and he's already ruined my fucking day.

"Where is it," He says to himself, lifting my sheets from my bed and tossing them onto the floor. my jaw goes slack and I'm immediately skipping over to him from his side, yanking them from his hands.

"Dude!"

"Where the fuck is my ring? I know it's here." He sounds so much different when his words aren't dipped in whiskey. Angrier.

Oh fucking well.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I cross my arms over my chest.

Harry's nostrils flares as he takes a step toward me, pointing an accusatory finger. "I know you fucking have it, the last place I had it was-"

"At the club? Maybe you should look there you fucking slut."

"Watch how you fucking talk to me, Eliana." He warns.

"It's El-lie," I motion each syllable with my hand, hoping that my subtle way of dumbing my name down would get it through his thick skull.

"I don't give a shit, I know you have my ring. What'd you do? fuckin' pawn it?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I lift my brows at his assumption and watch as he stumbles on his breath, immediately retracting with a harsh swallow.

"I didn't fucking mean it like that, and you know it."

"Okay, then what did you mean? I don't get why you're bursting into my apartment acting like you have a warrant or something. If I put a bullet up your ass, I'd be well within my rights."

"Look, I just want my ring, my wife-"

"Oh," My head comes back in a laugh, "Your wife. Yeah, well maybe you shouldn't have been here, to begin with, if you had a wife."

"You don't understand, and I don't expect you to, I just need it back,"

"I don't have it,"

"Ellie," He sighs, "I know you have it because I took it off when you sat on my fucking face, okay? And I sat it right there," He points to my nightstand and I purse my lips, scratching at my head.

He lifts his brows into his forehead expectantly, pressing his lips together in an impatient expression.

"Okay, fine." I roll my eyes, "I have it."

He lets out a relieved sigh but I'm quick to hold my finger up. Now that I have something over him, I don't intend to let it go easily.

"I'll give it back under two conditions," I say, raising my brow when he lets out a groan.