May [H.S]

25

*Bear hugs* <3

Magnolia

•••

C'est juste un truc.

The abiding cloud cover and atmospheric gray-azure bumble of everything insight furthered the groggy unpleasant energy traded between us. A transparent expired film shielded my peripheral, turning the spottiness of my vision viridian. Besides my knowledge of the incoming thunderstorm, I'd guess by the movement of the skies up above that beckoning rain was inevitable.

Imaging harsh droplets pelting onto my exposed arms had my foot kicking the bench seat under me in impatience, I watched as my sock-covered foot hit the holed green metal over and over. I pull Harry's borrowed shirt over my exposed abdomen, hiding the low-rise of the loose pair of jeans he'd given me, with the waistband rolled over, they somewhat fit, still, I tucked my arms tighter around my torso, squeezing away the goosebumps rolling over my arms and with it the burning in the center of my chest.

Nothing about being over an hour out of town or having to ride on the back of Harry's motorcycle with only socks on was comforting to me. With the draining effects of alcohol leaving my system and the head-throbbing aftermath, wrapping my hands around his torso and holding on for dear life as he swerved through windy roads took an immense amount of mental strength to endure. Who knew riding on the back of a motorcycle for mere hours while you're hungover as shit isn't exactly a thrilling experience?

The sights help, the lush lively mountainous terrain, and the towering trees, I guess, when I wasn't pinching my eyes shut and forcing my head against the rough denim surface of his back. Oddly enough the duffle bag strapped behind me tight to the bike's frame made me feel more secure in place between.

It took us ages to leave, and more when I fought him on the idea of wearing his sweaty gross helmet, and when he finally accepted defeat, I swore I'd seen toddler-him come out as he huffed like a big six-foot baby. He'd been talkative up until we got on the road, running his mouth and screwing my brain. The change of pace was nice on my overly stimulated body and mind. Only a whistling breeze, evidence of our speed and the low hum of the bike, nothing more, nothing less to spiral into madness over.

Scanning the marginally empty parking spaces and the large, joined shops of the truck stop, I glare down at the green table bench combo, poking my fingers through the holed design and blowing hair from my face. If I weren't for how barren this truck stop was and the security blanket of Harry's motorcycle propped about five feet away, I'd be way less calm than I am, maybe I should be more on edge. Maybe I'm too okay with what's going on, with how out of control I am. The obsolete suddenness of this hauling ass to Seattle, why it had to be the rainiest city and not some beachy town in California. Though, eavesdropping over this past month I'd assume there's something going down in California, and we'd be driving right in the equivalent of the eye of the storm.

I'd bet money on me being in the height of my tolerating phase, drowning in numbness.

The sound of crumbling concrete alerts my attention and I draw my head up, inwardly jumping at the close proximity of Harry. He clicks the toothpick in his mouth, bringing it between his teeth and dropping the plastic bag from his hands on the tabletop beside my thigh, shuffling through.

He didn't look like himself, not in this day and age, he looked like Harry from years ago, the Harry I fell for. Silky brown curls peeking from the sides of that same green beanie, just nearly teetering the edge between freshly shaven and dusted with a light stubble. It brought out the vivid color of his eyes; the peachiness of his lips, all of his heavenly features. I'd hallucinate the smile he'd outwardly show back then, the dimples of his I barely get to see anymore. How happy he'd be just off the sight of me, a beaming ray of sunshine. Way back before he vaguely smelled of cigarettes similar to me, before I'd tainted the good that was left with my own bad.