sparks | henry creel

006

AU |

I would like to mention that from here on out the main character, Heather, will have selfdeprecating thoughts that some may find close to home. So if you don't want to read in-depth (sorta? Maybe?) Thoughts that may hit close to home, I suggest you find another fanfiction. Thanks </3

"What do you mean?" He asks, innocently. Though I can tell by his body language he knows exactly what I mean. "You constantly wear white. You act like you've never seen the light of day. You don't show emotion like everyone else in this town. You don't get social clues, you-"

"Okay, Heather, calm down." He stops, grabbing my arm and turning me towards him. The heat radiating off of his touch is astonishing. It's like, hell, but hell froze over in Indiana.
He looks me in my eyes, as if mentally writing down what color eyes I have. "You don't have to insult me in every language, now." He continues walking. I gave him a couple of seconds but he didn't continue. "So what, you believe I'm just going to let you ignore the question? Who are you, Henry Cre-"

He suddenly turns around and grabs my wrist, squeezing it. It's like in those movies where the guy kisses you to ignore the question or confrontation in general. He looks me in the eyes some more and I feel the heat once more. "Heather," he squeezes even harder, not letting go. Suddenly, the question doesn't seem so important. I sigh, letting go. He smiles. "Good girl."

I collapse onto the couch. After getting interrogated by Eddie for being a little longer then the expected time it takes to get to Mike's house, I needed to scream into a pillow. I couldn't tell Max about what he had said, and how I'm feeling, because she's a snitch.  I suddenly start swinging my legs in the air and let out the most loudest scream ever, even if it was being held back by the pillow. Everyone looks to me. Including Henry.

I really, really, do not appreciate the amount of attention I'm receiving right now. Maybe you shouldn't scream into a pillow like a freak, than.

Freak.

That's what you are.

All of your friends only hang out with you because they feel bad.

You're pathetic.

Robin has band, Lucas has basketball and Chrissy has cheer, Steve has his job and Mike and Eddie and Dustin has Hellfire.

What do you have? Nothing.

My whole entire body freezes over. Earlier it felt like hell, now it feels like Indiana in the deep deep winter, and right now it's the only beginning of winter.

The wave of depression is too much for me, so I decide to step out of the basement. I hope someone wouldn't come and follow me. I sit out side on the car port, my head is in between my legs.

I then hear the door open, and sure enough here comes Henry. I look up and figure out its him even in the dark and I look back down and groan. "What's wrong?" He asks, letting the door shut before sitting down next to me. "Nothing." I say, although it came out muffled because my head was still in between my legs.
"No, tell me what's wrong-"

I immediately say back up, nearly having whiplash from how fast I moved. "No. You are not allowed to ignore my question and expect me to be okay with it and answer any of your questions."

"Heather, the difference between our questions is the one you asked me isn't important."
Who does this guy think he is?!
"What, and you think you asking me how I am is important compared to me wondering who in the fucking hell Henry Creel is?!" I feel a sudden burst of anger. I'm not angry often, yet right now I feel like I'm angry at the entire world.

Angry at Max for snitching, Angry at Eddie for not trusting Henry even though I am doing the same exact thing right now, angry at Henry for not trusting me enough to tell me about himself.

Henry looks at me in astonishment, as if he didn't expect me to continue questioning him about himself. "What, did you think your little spell on me to forget about me wondering who you are would work forever? Well guess what Sherlock, it didn't." I stand up, wanting to get away from him. Hell, I wanted to leave the Wheelers house in general. Go home, scream into my own pillow instead of Mike Wheelers that has been collecting dust in his basement.

I open the door but almost instantly it SLAMMED shut. My first instinct was to grab the doorknob again and pull it open but it also slammed shut. I slowly turn back around, and I see Henry Creel staring at me, with blood pouring down from his nose. He stands up, and began to walk towards me.

My heart slowly starts to rapidly start beating. Beating faster than it's ever had, even faster than whenever I was watching my father die, or whenever I was waiting for the cops to come and take my mom to the hospital after her third overdose of the year.

He finally reaches me and puts his hand underneath my face, resting under my chin. His blue eyes sparkle, which I hate to say because it sounds so corny, but it's true. His lips curve into a smile before he finally spoke. "No."

And just like that, he walked back into the basement.