2:56 :: h.s

quarante cinq

18:01

I drop Stella off at her house and begin driving to mine.

We went to Chiptole after school and ended up driving around after we ate.
I like Stella, she's really sweet.
I can't help but think that she likes me.
She seems like a really lovely girl, but she isn't my type.

And I've had the pleasure of falling in love with a dead girl, so that's always fun.

I plug the AUX cord into my phone and hit shuffle.
Angels and Airwaves plays throughout the car and the rain falls harshly against my windshield.

It's hot and humid today.
I didn't even try with my hair.
I'm wearing a white, Hard Rock Café t-shirt and jeans.
It's so uncomfortable wearing tight jeans while it's humid.
I feel like I could die.

I pull into my driveway and walk to the front door.
The rain has let up but not too much.

When I finally get inside, I head straight to my room and nearly freeze.

Rae is sitting on my bed in my forest green, long sleeve shirt.
She looks at me and her eyebrows furrow.

She jumps off of the bed and rushes over to me.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" She asks frantically.

I step away from her and pick up a jacket from the floor. "What are you talking about?"

"You look like Hell," she says, concerned.

I roll my eyes and look at her, "thanks."

She follows me out of my room and into the kitchen.

"Harry," she says for the thousandth time since I left my room.

I slam my cup down on the counter, "what?"

Her eyes widen, "what is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? Oh, I don't know. Maybe the girl I love left me for a fucking week - for no legitimate fucking reason - and then she came back today and tried to act like she was concerned about my well-being! That's what's wrong with me!"

"I needed some space, Harry, Jesus. I didn't expect you to look like a ghost."

I glare at her, "I look nothing like you."

She stares at me.
She is beyond angry.
I can tell.
But she has told me before that she's afraid of me when I'm mad.

We stand there for a moment.

Life and death staring into each other's souls.
My anger radiating off of me in fire, her anger emitting from her in ice.
The mix is almost deadly.
Life and death aren't supposed to get along.

I take a deep breath and look away from her.
I sip from my cup then put it back down.

Rae's shoulders relax.

The tension in the room slowly decreases.
We're just one body and one spirit standing in a kitchen.

"I love you," she says.

"Shut up," I say and quickly walk over to her.

My hands move to the back of her neck and I press my lips against hers.
I can feel the bitterness from her lips ignite a frozen fire in my veins.

Goosebumps rise on my skin, almost like an old friend coming to visit.
Rae's hands move to my hair and tug gently on my curls.
I pull her closer to me.

My fingertips drip down her back.
I feel as if their should be a pair of large, soft, pure white wings on her back.

She's an angel.
She's my angel.

"I love you," I breath against her lips, "and you're never leaving me again."