Desolate - h.s. ✓

° twenty-seven °

     After I had finished my homework, and put on a rather cute outfit, I found myself sneaking out for the second time within a week. The air was chilly, so I put on a sweater, although didn't really worry about the rips in my jeans. This time around, I was wearing more clothes, however a part of me felt like Harry would end up complaining some.

Once I had locked the door behind me, I found myself walking across the grass, Harry sitting in his car. Opening the passenger door, I sat in the car, shutting the door and buckling myself. The curly-haired boy almost immediately placed his hand on my thigh, covering a place where there was a hole in my jeans.

"I was hoping for more skin."

"Damn, I knew it," I murmured. "I even thought that, but then realized I was kind of cold."

He shrugged. "No worries. You look cute."

Smiling at him, I placed my hand over his, my attention shifting from the window to his fingers. Harry had decided to wear rings, the look rather unusual considering he'd have to take them off for baseball. Not to mention that Harry probably didn't want to worry about losing them. Brushing the thought off, I glanced back out the window, smiling when Harry took my hand in his and ran his thumb along my skin.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I nodded.

"Nicole, you can be honest with me."

"I know that. And I'm fine."

He didn't try to pry anymore, driving to the same spot we had been previously. I was the first to climb into the back, Harry laughing when I haphazardly fell into the backseat. He came back not long after me, a smile on my face as he cupped my cheeks and pressed a kiss to my nose.

"You've been okay lately?" I asked quietly, placing my hands over his. "You said you were shit faced last night."

"I was just thinking too much," he told me.

"About?"

He shook his head. "My dad."

My eyebrows pulled in, Harry letting go of me. He grabbed a plastic bag that had two joints, pulling one out. I watched as he took his lighter out, the boy quickly lighting the end. It wasn't long before he was taking a hit, handing it to me. Following along, I took a hit from it also, the both of us quiet for a while. It wasn't until we broke into the second joint that Harry started talking to me.

"You deserve better."

"What?"

"You deserve better," Harry stated. "I don't believe you should have to deal with someone as fucked up as me."

"Don't say that. You're a sweetie."

"I have panic episodes because of what my father did to me," he muttered. "I'm sad all the fucking time. I feel useless. I don't deserve you, Nicole. You're so perfect."

"I don't like it when you talk like this."

He sighed, his lips pressing against my cheek. I had no idea why he was so upset right now. It sucked that he thought he didn't deserve me, because I totally believed that he did. If anything, I felt like I didn't really deserve him.

"Nicole, we're lying to your brother. I'm lying to my best friend."

"I know. It sucks."

"It sucks so much. I can't even tell him about how happy you make me, or how you send me little messages during the day if you think I look angry or upset in the hallway. I adore you so fucking much, and I can't even tell anyone."