PULSE [H.S]

063

"The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." — Maya Angelou

I'm in the dungeon again.

Although this time Harry didn't have to throw me over his shoulder to get me to go down to the basement of Knockout Arena. I went willingly, following everyone else down, to have some sort of meeting.

We sit in a circle on the boxing mat, almost like in school, where we'd have sharing time and everyone would take turns talking around the circle. I wish we were doing that instead of discussing bad stuff.

I lean against Harry, my arms wrapped around his left arm. He lets me, not minding the PDA in front of everyone, even after we got a lot of teasing for it.

The first thing Niall says when everyone gets here is, "You look like shit, Kiz. What the fuck happened?"

He's not wrong. The cut on my temple is scabbed over now, an ugly dark brown blob. My nose is still black and blue, and the areas under my eye are yellowed from the impact as well. There's also still bruise marks on my neck, outlining where those guys fingers were.

"Thanks, Niall," I say, giving him a fake smile. Harry's hand rubs my leg, comforting me.

Apparently, Harry didn't tell anyone what happened, so everyone was shocked when they saw my appearance. The only person who knew ahead of time was Clove, since Harry took it upon himself to scream at her.

I talked to Clove about it, reassuring her that this wasn't her fault, and Harry is just a big baby. She still apologized to me relentlessly, saying that she should have made sure I drove away safely.

Zayn looks at Harry and says, "I'm assuming this is why you called the meeting?"

Harry says, "Lucas is back."

"What?" Clove says, her voice loud and full of shock. She points at me, or at my face, and says, "He did this?"

I want to shrivel up into a ball and disappear. It's embarrassing that this happened to me and that I wasn't able to defend myself.

Harry nods. "He used Kiz to get the message to me, which means someone's been filling him in on what's been going on around here."

"This has to relate to Elias, right?" Louis says.

"Maybe," Harry says, the vibrations of his voice hitting my head. He says, "But even if he's here for a reason, he's going to use this opportunity to get to me."

Niall says, "Let's just kill him then, yeah?"

I can't believe how normal it is for murder to be casually worked into conversations I have with my group of friends. Niall's words don't phase me, and that's what worries me—how normalized violence is in my life now.

"And have a whole cartel after us?" Zayn counters.

"What's the alternative?" Niall asks and then motions to me with his hand, saying, "Let him kill Kiz next time he decides to strike?"

I clench my jaw, letting out a breath as I start to get frustrated with everyone treating me like I'm a defenseless child. It's even more frustrating that I essentially am one.

Harry's hand squeezes my leg. He says, "We have to be smart about this."

"This is ridiculous," Clove says. "You didn't even know who she was when it happened. This was all Elias, yet Lucas is here working with him while trying to hurt you?"

I say, "You said Elias would make another move to try to get rid of us. What if bringing Lucas back here was just another step forward with that plan?"

Harry says, "The bad blood between Lucas and I is definitely something he'd try to take advantage of."

"I'll ask Liam to look into whatever deal is happening between them," Zayn says.

Clove says, "Until we figure this out, Kiz shouldn't be alone."

"Look who's fucking talking," Harry barks at her angrily. I elbow him, and he just looks at me like he did nothing wrong, so I glare at him. He says, "I'll be with her."

Niall says, "You need to be careful too, Harry."

"We all do."

-

Jackson showed up again.

Since last week, he has filled up almost 10 pages of sketches. This kid loves to draw. He even drew the dinosaur that Harry said was his favorite.

Harry looks down at it, grinning. He says, "I might have to get this tattooed, what do you think?"

Jackson says, "I'm not sure you have room for another one."

Harry laughs, "Do you like tattoos?"

"They're cool, I guess," he shrugs.

A few more kids come in, grabbing art supplies and letting their creativity take over. One girl asks me to help give her tips, so I spend a while teaching her some basic drawing techniques.

She says, "I want to try ceramics. Have you done that?"

"I tried it," I tell her, "All the bowls and vases I made came out lopsided."

She laughs at me and then says, "I think I just like the idea of 3D art instead of canvas art. Like sculptures and stuff, you know?"

"That's really cool," I smile at her. "I can't wait to see your pieces in a museum some day."

While I'm helping her, I occasionally steal glances at Harry and Jackson, watching them bond. It makes me giddy to see Harry like this. He's so gentle, and so unlike the dangerous man he projects to the rest of the world.

By the end of the hour, five kids had come and gone, making me extremely happy. It's more than I ever expected, honestly. I remember not really wanting to go to events for foster kids because it separates us from the rest of the community, but some of these kids are so invested in art and learning. It's awesome.

Jackson is the last one to leave again, this time asking if he can take a set of colored pencils, which I say of course to. The smile on his face alone makes all of this worth it.

When he leaves, I turn to Harry and say, "He really likes you. You're so good with him."

"He reminds me of myself at his age," Harry says, making my stomach do a flip-flop. He says, "I just hope he takes the path I didn't take."

I wish I could see what Harry was like back then. I know he was a little troublemaker, but I'd love to see the younger him running around, causing havoc.

I say, "I hate that so many kids come from broken homes."

"Me too, baby," Harry says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Me too."