✓ lights /styles au/

30 Cement

know that i'm here waiting for you.

Harry's head was hurting as he tried to understand what was happening. He didn't know which part of this felt worst. Niall calling Joey instead of him or Jo leaving the apartment to go help his friend without him.

The rain settled a while ago but there was still the occasional clap of thunder. He knew streaks of lightning were peaking into the apartment every time Joey jumped from her seat beside him. He was disappointed and mildly upset, but he still pressed a reassuring hand against her back when she flinched into his chest.

"You won't bring me back, right?" Niall. He sounded like a child who'd just been scolded.

Harry stood to his feet, the heat from both his girlfriend and friend making it harder for him to think. "You can do whatever the hell you want." He pulled his long strands from his face and bounded it behind his head using the hair tie he always wore around his wrist. It was green. Hopefully, at least. "Hey, Jo?"

There was a small mumble from where she was sitting. If she said anything, he didn't catch it.

"Make sure you..." he shrugged his shoulders, nudging Baggs away from him when he felt his paws press against his calf. He just wanted to get out of her apartment. He wanted to get away from Niall and Joey and he didn't want to feel better yet. He wanted to wallow in self pity. Harry wanted to be reminded that the people he knew thought he was weak. Maybe it was his disability. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, he didn't know. All he knew was that he needed to leave before he said something they wouldn't forgive him for. "Help him out, or whatever."

A hand locked around the humerus of his left arm just as he had slipped into a pair of fall boots. Joey's fingers were steady but he felt her breath hit his shoulder. Uneven. "Harry-"

He used his right hand to push hers away softly, just wanting to get out. He didn't want her to follow him. Didn't want to be followed at all. Harry knew there was a chance he was overreacting, but he wasn't ready to be sorry about it yet. "Please let me go."

"Harry." It came out as a breath. Slow and gentle and he had to pause to make sure it didn't just stay there between the both of them.

His head was loud for a moment and he just wanted to tell her he loved her but also how mad he was. He'd never been one to talk out his feelings and he wasn't sure if he'd ever be that person. "Josephine," he annunciated carefully, watching his words and tone. They could have been a little venomous. "Let me go."

"Don't threaten me," she pulled him closer to her chest a little. He wanted to know how mad she was becoming.

He kept his eyes closed, trying to moisten them the most he could so they wouldn't run dry. When her grip loosened, he pulled away and opened the front door, wanting to say something smart to the both of them but deciding against it. He wasn't that vindictive, he considered. Wasn't vindictive at all.

When the door was shut, he made a bee-line for the staircase exit instead of the elevator, taking small steps to avoid falling. He didn't have his cane or service dog with him so he had to walk as carefully as he could.

The air outside was musty from the rainwater that was still probably embedded into the cement. Harry dropped his head back as he walked the empty streets. Remembered how every time he used to toss his head back at nights like this he'd see lights from street lamps or building lights. It was different now. Now everything was just black all the time. There was no point in keeping his eyes opened, but it was still a habit he hadn't broken yet.

He found himself seated at the bar he used to go to with Niall and his sister. The bartender made his presence known with a heavy tap on Harry's wrist.

"Stranger," the older man greeted. His voice was thick with mucus that Harry cringed inwardly at. It had to have been the smoke in the small space. "Where have you been?"

He wasn't in the mood for a hefty conversation so Harry just shrugged as a response. "Can I get a gin and tonic with a glass of water on the side?"

"What's the water for?" The response was a laugh.

Harry was having a hard time remembering the man's name. Decided it wasn't very important in the long run. "To make sure I don't get that drunk. I'm not-" like that. "I don't want to get very drunk."

Two glasses were set in front of him a moment later. He ignored the incessant notifications his phone was spitting at him. They were all about Joey and Niall and missed calls and missed text messages. There was one from his mom but that had nothing to do with his situation at the moment.

Nearly an hour later, he had his chin under his hand, other hand tapping slowly against the counter. His mind was fuzzy and swimming in alcohol. His veins felt like they were exploding and making space for a very light body. He felt light. Like he was floating or dying or whatever makes a person feel like air.

He was too caught up in the way his fingers were feeling to feel skinnier ones take hold of the back of his shirt. He allowed the person to tug him off of the high chair and against the counter, the wood digging unforgivingly into his spine at an odd angle.

It took him a moment to recognize the scent of the perfume in the air. "Jo."

She didn't say anything. Or maybe he just didn't hear it.

"I'm sorry." Harry couldn't remember what he was supposed to be sorry for. Surely whatever was wrong was his fault. He was scratching at his wrists anxiously, nails coming away with skin under them. They were taken away from his skin quickly, captured instead by her warmer ones. "I'm sorry for coming here and yelling at you- did I yell at you? I'm sorry for not seeing. Sorry I can't see you, Jo. I know how your face feels like but I'm sorry I can't- I'm sorry I can't-"

"Stop," she interrupted. There was loud music around them but he was trying to focus on her voice instead. It was hard but he managed. "Don't do that."

"And I'm sorry that I have bad nightmares and hurt you when I sleep. You don't say anything about them but I know I wake you up sometimes." Was he rambling? He couldn't tell. There were so many things he was sorry for and it was so easy for him to admit it like this in front of her.

She said something and he bit down on his bottom lip. Wanted her to repeat it because it was different. Something that made him drop his head into the crook of her neck. His breath was even but his heart was practically bruising his ribs. His veins were no longer light and he wasn't feeling like he was floating or dying or whatever people feel when they feel like air. He felt heavy inside.

"What?" He asked, licking his lips. The taste of salt on the side of her neck made him settle more into her warmth.

"I love you," she repeated more quietly. "I'm sorry."

"'S not fair," he mumbled, wanting to ask the bartender for another glass of water. He wanted her to say that over and over again until he was sober. "I won't remember tomorrow."

"Ask me about it tomorrow and I'll tell you again," she knotted her hand into his hair to pull him back, running her fingers under his eyes. "You need to talk to me, Harry. We need to do better."

"I'm sorry," he said again. Added a soft smile before running the tips of his fingers over her lips to know whether she was smiling or frowning. Thankfully it wasn't the latter. (Unfortunately, it wasn't the first either.) "We can talk tomorrow, yeah? You and me? I'm sorry."

She put her arm behind his back for a little support though he wasn't so drunk that he couldn't walk right. "We can talk tomorrow," she verified.

He smiled and removed some of his weight from her when he noticed how much she was struggling. "I love you," Harry said, getting it out there just in case she liked to hear it as much as he did.

(A/n: Early update because I had the time and I haven't posted for two weeks before the last one. Also, thank you so much for 4k reads and 350 reads! Feel free to correct me on my any errors please.)