Sweet Tooth [HS]

FIFTY FOUR

One day later.

Max was nervous as she pulled up to the studio. Her nails were bitten down, her lips bitten to shreds and all she was thinking about was Lexie, was about Harry, was about what this day might bring.

She'd slept awfully last night. Despite the goose feather mattress and the silk bedsheets and Harry's silky smooth skin that cocooned her all night - she just couldn't shut her eyes. Could not displace this feeling inside her, like seasickness, pulling her insides to and fro and making her all heavy and off balance.

It was Lexie. It was this horrible idea that her best friend was upset and that she had completely missed it. Or maybe that she was just so disappointed in her, that she was furious she'd been so willing to give in to Harry.

And Max's terror was crippling.

And she felt it now as she opened the door to the studio that was completely empty, apart from the red head sat down at the desk.

"Lex," she said quietly, her heart in her throat, choking her.

Lexie looked up. She was frowning, had this hard crease in the middle of her forehead and her lips all screwed up in a pout. She looked so... so un-Lexie. She was always so strong, always so stable. Max sort of had it in her head that Lexie was like an iceberg, untouched, untouchable.

"Max," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You're early."

Max only shrugged and walked further into the room, her eyes fixed on her best friend.

"I needed to talk to you before everyone got here," she paused. "What's happened, Lex? Why are you so cross?"

Lexie let out a whooshing breath, shaking her head. "Max, I'm not cross. I'm not."

Max frowned, her confusion growing. "Is this about Rory? Has something happened with him? Has he done something?"

And that was the wrong thing to say.

Because Lexie frowned so deeply, her eyes blazed so fiercely, and it was like Max could see steam coming out of her nostrils.

"Why would it be about him? He has nothing to do with this." She bit, her voice like a knife.

Max did not know what to do. Had never seen Lexie like this. Or, rather, she'd seen Lexie like this but never with her, not once.

"Sorry, Lexie. I just-" she didn't know what to say. Could barely handle the idea that Lexie could be so utterly furious with her based on her decisions alone. "He loves me, Lex. He told me. He loves me."

She watched as Lexie's fury subsided, as her eyes melted and her mouth turned downwards.

Pity? Was this pity?

"Oh, Max," she said, and yes. Yes it was pity. It was like she felt sorry for her. Like she had gone through some terrible misfortune and she felt sorry for her.

"Why do you sound like that, Lexie?" It was Max who was angry now. She suddenly felt defensive of herself, of Harry, of how happy she finally was.

Because Harry loved her.

She loved Harry.

Nothing else mattered.

"Max I'm just trying to look out for you, don't you see? I don't want you to get hurt again. I don't want you to put yourself through it again."

But Max just shook her head. She hated how definite Lexie was that she was going to get hurt again, hated how she was behaving like she already knew.

"He loves me, Lexie." She repeated, like it was somehow a defence, like those words would beat anything - because to Max, they did.

She did not care about the past and the hurt and the brokenness. Not anymore. Because Harry had told her he loved her and it was like this balm, this bandage; it had knitted her bones and her brokenness back together and everything was new. Everything was perfect.

She hated that Lexie was ruining it - was tearing it apart.

"I know he loves you," Lexie finally replied, her voice sickeningly sympathetic. "That's not it."

"So what is it?" Max bit back, feeling anger brewing in her gut, feeling it bubbling, threatening to burst.

Lexie sighed again, her eyes darting between Max's like she wasn't sure what to say next.

"It's the fact that you love him, Max. You love him more than you love yourself. And that's your flaw. That's what's fucking you up. You'll keep forgiving him and forgiving him and-"

But Max wasn't listening, did not want to. Could not hear it.

Yes, she loved Harry. Maybe she more than loved Harry. Maybe it was devotion or maybe it was a sort of worshipping feeling, like a feeling she got in her soul - or maybe it was a sickness, a feeling that was in her bloodstream, in her bone marrow. But whatever it was she couldn't undo it.

Could not unlove Harry, could not unbelieve in him. No. There was no cure.

And she did not want it.

Because Harry loved her too. He felt it too. She knew he did.

So she turned to Lexie then, looked at her with such vehemence she did not think herself capable of it.

"Lexie, I'm not listening to this. I don't want to hear it. If you can't be happy for me then you can't be happy for me. I don't care." And she turned to leave, felt rage dripping off her body, could feel it in the sweat on her forehead.

"Max, please. I'm just trying to be rational. You know he's no good."

"Fuck off, Lexie," she bit. And her words were sharp and they were short and they were merciless. She watched as Lexie sort of jolted back from the shock, the way her eyes widened and her mouth popped open and Max couldn't bring herself to apologise. Could not bring herself back from the brink. "Don't talk to me. Leave me alone."

And with that Max turned and left, not looking back to see Lexie as she began to weep.

--

hi!!! i know I have been hopeless!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! if u want an excuse i'm doing my masters atm so i've basc been drowning in work & been so focused on that i've had so little time w this story. 

But. Max and Harry's journey has not ended and there's still lots and lots left to happen. i'm going to try my hardest to keep updates more regular i feel so bad for leaving it this long!! 

hopefully will be back with a new chapter soon xxx

-R