Underwater. ||h.s.||

chapter three.

We made it around 4:49 PM.

Upon arriving at the Triple A (Ann Arbor Arena), I realized that...Harry wasn't exaggerating. People littered the camping grounds, filled the parking lot, and ultimately, flooded the arena.

Quinn reminded us that we had passes to get in quicker, so Rory kept repeating the phrase 'far-out' while our queen of the hipsters began bolting out a fresh set of lyrics.

I kept my smiling to a minimal, but when Harry reached across the seat and squeezed my shoulder, I couldn't stop myself from enjoying what I felt.

I'd cherish this moment.
On my twenty-second birthday, I wore a bright yellow top and a smile. A genuine one.

I took my time exiting the car, but almost stumbled upon landing. I was surprised when I felt hands across my waist.
I slightly gasped and turned to see Quinn keeping me steady.
"Be careful there. There's a dip in the ground."

If you asked me if I was disappointed that they weren't Harry's hands, you'd be right, but not completely. I was thankful that Quinn didn't let me fall to my face, but I had rather it was Harry. Then it all led me to think: Had Rory told them about my condition? Did he know?

After giving the security guards our tickets and walking through, I immediately heard the slender sound of soul music. It encircled me and I felt at home. My real home where I could be free.

Over the music, Rory yelled, "You're going to learn how to sway! It's a must!"

I shook my head. "I'm 22, Roar! I'm pretty sure I can make decisions on my own!"

"Oh! You're old enough for a little drink!" Harry interjected. I felt my pupils dilating as he air-strummed along to the music.

"...I guess!"

"Then have a Bob Marley with me!"

I shook my head again and he laughed at me. "I can't! Not tonight!"

"It isn't 'tonight' until eight! Just one drink!"

My instincts pushed me to have fun, but repetition and routine told me that I didn't need a drink.

But those green eyes staring back at me pleaded for me to just take this one chance with him.

Harry, the Poet.

"...Only one drink!"

He smiled at me before grabbing my hand and jogging to the bar vending out drinks.
He was a surprising individual; amidst his jogging, he kept looking back at me.

My limp made the task a little impossible and I thought to tell him, but decided not to. I'd just have to stick it out as best I could.

Leading us to a string of bar stools and smiling giddily while calling the waitress over for our order, I watched his hands transition from his knees, to the counter, and back to his knees for five minutes straight. I couldn't hold in my laughter and his eyes darted to meet mine. The waitress went off and I was stuck staring at a guy who enjoys poems and reggae.

He asked, "Funny?"

"Nothing. I-I wanted to say thanks for the tickets. This is the best birthday gift I've gotten in years..."

His tongue flitted over his lips and I felt myself jump upon his actions. "It was my pleasure, Erin."

A discomfited air replaced what I thought was healthy conversation before he reached for a toothpick next to me and broke it into little pieces. God, it was ridiculous how fascinated I was with little things like that. He broke the silence by saying, "I forgot to finish my compliment earlier."

"Really, there's no need—"

"Let me."

"...Go ahead."

He cleared his throat and a smirk appeared along the crevasse of his cheeks, leading to the gates of his pearly whites. His lips were a thing to stare at, and boy, could I do that all day...

"You...have a nice rack."

What?

"...Okay—"

"I don't mean it in a disrespectful way," he assured and that same smirk made me feel uncomfortable in the same seconds that it made me feel like wanted company. Raising myself away from the stool, I muttered that it didn't matter how he meant it, it was still rude.

Harry the Poet was now Harry the Pervert, and I prayed that I could limp fast enough to get to Rory.
Appreciating my body in such vile terms was the reason why I didn't get out of the house; boring or not.

I should just go home now.

"Erin—"

The feeling of his hand grabbing my wrist sent chills through my body and an unfortunate memory through my mind. "Let me go."

"Before you write me off as disgusting, can I just say one thing?"