He Is Broken. // H.S.

39~Headlines

39~Headlines

Everest's POV 8/31/14

The car is nothing but silent and I absolutely hate it. I force myself to look out the window, too afraid to even look at him. I'm leaned completely against the car door, only hearing the sound of the engine roaring and tires flying across the gravel at high speed.

I don't know what to think. I don't know what to feel. One part of me is completely furious with him. If he hadn't drank so much, he probably would've taken that whole situation a lot better. Another part of me is drowned with guilt. If I had stayed with him, I could've stopped him from drinking, more or less, that whole incident. And another part of me is scared, frightened of this new Harry that appeared tonight. The worse he's ever done when drunk was smash a few bottles and say hurtful things he didn't mean. This is a whole new drunk Harry I never knew existed.

We could've had more fun, stayed out a little longer. But no, all this had to happen. And I feel like it's all my fault.

I finally turn my gaze in his direction, the look in his eyes so dangerously focused on the road. His fingers are locked around the steering wheel as if his life depended on it, causing his knuckles to turn white. His jaw is clenched. His breathing is heavy. His whole body is stiff.

I sigh, pulling my hair out from my ponytail, ruffle my long strands back with my fingers, then slowly drag them down my face.

Okay, I cannot take this silence any longer! And so I burst.

"God, we can't just pretend like nothing happened !" I blurt out loudly, having no affect on Harry whatsoever. He ignores me but I continue anyway. "We have to talk about this now, Harry! This is bad."

"And you don't think I already know that," He spits back at me through gritted teeth, turning his head towards me for a split second then back on the road.

I bite my lip, flickering my eyes away then back at him, not knowing what to say next. I sigh as I rest my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands.

"By the way, a 'thank you' would be nice," he scoffs, annoyance thick in his tone.

I look up from my hands, my mouth parted and eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?" I say baffled. "'Thank you'?-"

"Yes, Everest!" he says with more annoyance and arrogance. "I mean, I did stand up for you back there."

I wanted to interject, argue back, ask him why the hell should I after all that had happened. However, he did stand up for me, even if what he did was wrong. No one has ever gone that far to defend me. But they weren't drunk either.

So, I put my pride aside and muster the two simple words as calm as possible, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says just as calm as I did.

I lean my head back against the headrest, using my cold fingers to rub my eyes in little circles, not caring about my makeup at this point. Do you ever feel like crying from being so overwhelmed and yet you can't?

I then find my head turning back in Harry's direction, eyes glued on him once more. His eyes are narrowed, jaw locked again, and his grip on the steering wheel has tightened. As I stare more intently at his face, can hardly make out his features, I notice the pigment in his cheek has become darker, much darker. And then I begin to wonder...

"Harry, your cheek," I say curiously, leaning in closer for a better look. I furrow my eyebrows together, softly gracing my thumb over his cheek, feeling a slight lump, and he flinches his head slightly. "He punched you?"