Broken

Chapter 5

The bar was stunning inside, black chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the chairs lined with different coloured silk. It had an almost gothic-like feel. He led me over to the bar area, sitting on one if the spinning chairs. I copied him, staring awkwardly at the barman. He stared back at me as if I didn't belong there, simply because I looked too plain and innocent to be in a place like that.

"You look like a strawberry daiquiri kind if girl?" Harry said, trying to predict what I would pick off the cocktail list.

But in reality I had no idea what I would pick myself, I had never tried any of these weird combinations. I nodded and smiled politely.

"How did you guess?" I said giggling pathetically.

I felt like smacking myself, I really was acting pathetic.

He smirked and ordered the strawberry thing and another for himself called "sex on the beach." I blushed again, my eyes widening at the thought. Why would I even think of something like that? He saw the look on my face and laughed, the barman making the concoctions in front if us.

"Never heard of that one?" he asked.

I laughed too with absolutely no humour in it at all. I'd never even heard if a strawberry fucking daiquiri before never mind sex on the beach! The creepy looking barman sat the drinks in front of us, Harry handing over the money. I chewed my lip nervously, watching as the guy out the ten pound note in the till.

"I..I could pay for my own?" I said feeling bad that Harry felt the need to pay for everything. I knew I couldn't as I was completely broke but it made me feel better to ask anyway.

"Who's the one that spilt boiling hot coffee down your chest?" he said, clearly trying hard not to look down.

I shook my head at him and chuckled. I stared at the drink in front of me, it looked surprisingly pretty. It looked like a thick pink slush with a strawberry pierced on the edge of my glass. Harry sucked on his straw happily, waiting for me to taste my own. I did the same, cautiously letting the ice cold liquid touch the tip of my tongue. It tasted sweet at first, the alcohol burning in the pit of my stomach as it slipped down my throat. I was surprised at how good if felt, relaxing me, cheering me up almost instantly. I giggled,

"It's...good," I said.

"I'm glad," he sipped the straw again.

After one or two more strawberry daiquiris and a jäger bomb, I had completely lost it. My head was spinning, loss of all control and a complete change of character. The bar was crowded, packed with punks and goths with crazy hair colours and tattoos. I was standing up on the marble bar, dancing like a complete slut. I forgot all about my past and evil parents for a few hours, the best few hours of my life. The drunken crowd cheered and clapped, boosting my self esteem. Someone handed me a shot, stupidly taking it and downing it all in a oner. I felt tipsy, the room dancing with me. I fell off the bar and into someone's arms. They held onto my waist, letting me slide down their body. I met Harry's eyes, they looked bloodshot, confused.

" I think you've had enough," he said firmly, "we're going home."

I flopped and wobbled, clinging onto his plain white t-shirt.

"Don't let me go," I whispered in his ear so he could hear me.

He smiled, his cheek rubbing against mine,

"I won't," he said, lifting me off my feet.

He cradled me in his arms, hitting his shoulder off the door to push it open. The cold hit my cheeks, making them numb. I winced and buried my face into his chest, his chin resting on my head.

"You...you don't know here I live," I whispered sleepily.

I felt his nose nuzzle into my hair, making my stomach twist.

"You can stay at mine, it's fine," he said.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to stay at Harry's house, what if I did something embarrassing...like snore or vomit?

I felt myself drifting off just as he unlocked the front door, practically falling in. He cursed under his breath, kicking a jacket out of the road. I blinked under the sudden burst of light and groaned. He looked down at me as if I was a baby, smiling sweetly considering how awful I must have looked. He took me into a small bedroom, quite similar to mine. The double bed took up most of the space, nothing but a black wardrobe in the corner. It was cosy. He stumbled again, laying me down on the bed and hanging over me. His hands were above either side of my shoulders, keeping himself up. He couldn't look into my eyes, disappointing me. I let him pull the sheets over me, sinking into his pillow. It smelt of faint aftershave and mint, like when he was holding me. I could only describe it as Harry.

"Goodnight Kirsten," he whispered, running his finger along my arm and slipping away...