Sweet Tooth [HS]

FORTY

Later.

Max had showered, had pulled on a fresh t-shirt and trakkies, had made a coffee and was now smoking a cigarette when Harry came to join her on the balcony. He rubbed away green sleep crust from the corners of his eyes and he ran a slow hand through his messy hair and Max could still see creases of her pillowcase on his cheek.

"Morning," he said as he lazily sank down on his usual chair beside her. His voice was extra gritty from sleep and Max thought it was her favourite sound, Harry's husky morning voice. She made a note in her mind to suggest making it a bonus track on an album one day.

"Good morning," she replied politely. She raised her coffee mug up to her lips and peered at him from behind it. She was unsure. Not completely confident on where this conversation was going.

Practically since she'd woken up she'd been going through how she was going to play it this morning. She knew she was too exhausted to be angry at him or have an argument. Really, she was just sad.

"How are you?" She asked, and handed him the cigarette that was nearly halfway smoked.

He took a long drag before he replied.

"Hungover." He deadpanned, passing her the cigarette back and looking at her head on for the first time that morning. He looked serious. Looked cautious. Maybe even looked a little scared. "How are you, Max? Seriously?"

She knew he was talking about the guy in the bathroom.

"I'm fine. I'm OK, genuinly. I was just shocked and drunk and tired last night." She replied honestly and hoped he'd be satisfied with the answer. She didn't want to think about it again, wanted to bury it and forget it ever happened.

"Are you sure, Max? Be honest with me," his green eyes searched hers, trying to detect if she was lying or not.

"I'm telling the truth. I'm fine."

He stayed silent and narrowed his eyes and Max could have smiled because there it was. There was that way he was supposed to look at her. Like he could see through her skin, her skull, and there he was sorting through the secrets she kept hidden away there. It was his mind-reading, soul-seeing face. The one that told her how much he knew her, how much he cared.

After a moment of silence, he let out a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.

"I believe you," he said. "Fucking hell," he paused and ran a hand through the mess of hair on his head. He was looking away from her and up towards the pale morning sky. "Maxie you don't know how scared I was when I saw you like that. I just- I saw red. I couldn't even think. I don't think I've ever been so angry in my life." He bit down on his lip, as if considering whether or not to carry on. "I- I think I could have killed him."

Max rolled her eyes. "Harry you're being dramatic. It wasn't that bad."

And that made him look at her.

Uh oh.

"Max it's not funny, don't joke about it," his voice was hard. "I keep fucking seeing it in my head. The way he was looking at you. What he was fucking thinking- fuck! It's making me angry even talking about it."

He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the thoughts from within it.

"Harry hey," Max extended her arm to reach forwards but thought better of it. She placed her empty hand back on her lap.

"Harry don't think about it anymore because look at me- I'm fine. And I'm only fine because you saved me." Her voice was heavy with honesty. "So thank you, Harry. I actually don't know what I would have done without you."