Malefactor [H.S.]

39

Harry Styles

I'm currently sitting in my turned-off car with Camden in the passenger seat, her arms crossed in defiance and jaw set as she stares out the window.

For whatever reason, she's still trying to fight me about getting her phone fixed. She doesn't want me to pay for it even though I told her I want to. I know she probably thinks it's just an excuse, but I really do feel partially responsible for it being broken. We were both involved in the decision of her taking off her jumper Friday night, but I'm the one who decided to take it off of her and carelessly throw it to the ground. Money is nothing to me and getting her screen fixed is the least I can do.

Of course she doesn't want to listen, though. So I took her out to my car and told her I had a few things I needed to do today. We've been staying in her apartment for the past four days. She and Niall are still pissed at one another and haven't spoken since Zayn told them to get out of Luminary. I felt bad forcing her to stay at my place so I offered to let us stay in her apartment. It's still not that safe of an option but I don't think Colin is stupid enough to try anything with me there.

Not to mention, with the whole Dominican Republic drug smuggling thing we have coming up, he's been laying low. He knows Marcus wants Camden specifically to go along for it, and he cares much more about his business than targeting her because of whatever weird obsession he's developed.

I don't have anything I needed to do today. I just needed an excuse to get her out of the house and that was the first thing I thought of. My explanations for things are usually minimal in the first place, so she didn't question it when I was vague about where we were going.

The second I pulled up across the street from the Apple store in downtown Brooklyn, though, she was pissed. Now it's nearly ten minutes later and we've been sitting in my car in utter silence, her pouting and somehow thinking that it's going to make me agree to leave.

"Camden." My voice comes out slightly hoarse from not having spoken, needing to clear it. "You need to get your phone fixed."

"You're not paying for it," she shakes her head.

"Why do you care so much?"

She doesn't answer my question, merely shaking her head again and mumbling the same thing. I sigh loudly, letting her know I'm annoyed. My eyes flicker down to my own phone clutched in my right hand, looking at the time. It's almost two o'clock.

"Okay," I blow out a breath and undo my seatbelt. "We're getting out. You're not winning this argument, so get out of the car."

She still makes no effort to move. I get out anyway, coming around to her side of the door. She doesn't open it. I tug it open but she remains seated, facing forward with her seatbelt still on. I reach down to undo it. She clicks it back into place.

"Holy shit," I let out an agitated laugh. "Why are you acting like this? Just get out."

"I've already told you a bunch of times that I don't feel comfortable letting you pay for my phone."

"What if I pay half?" I suggest, this being the first thing that pops into my head. She glances over at me. "I'm half of the reason why it's broken, right? I'm the one who took your jumper off."

She tries to hide the way her face gains color to it from the memory, my lips rolling into my mouth and eyes shooting up to the sky to keep myself from smiling like some smug asshole.

"If I'm half the reason, then let me pay half."

She drops her crossed arms, automatically letting me know I've won. "Fine," she mumbles, undoing her seatbelt and stepping out onto the sidewalk.