sHe (Haylor)

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I smile at her, she's beautiful; just like two or three hours ago when I saw her last. I stumble up to her, "woah, little tipsy there, Brit?" she laughs and holds my arm, "ironic you're at the Irish bar, isn't it?"

"Do you want to go for a walk?" I had completely ignored her two comments and came up with my own, "what time is it?"

She smiles at me with that beautiful diamond smile I enjoy seeing. "It's almost 5 am"

"Fuck, when did it get so late?" I slur a sentence together, "or early. What would you call that?" I chuckle a little at myself.

She laughs at me, "yeah I'll go on a walk with you" she ignored my two sentences like I did to her.

That turns me on. The fact that she can give it right back to me, giving me the same shit that I had given to her. It's confident, sexy even.

She has changed. She's not in the beautiful dress she was in earlier, but this time she's in black skinny jeans and a long sleeve shirt. There is a logo on her shirt, but I can't see it in this light, let alone she walks away from me before I can get a look. My bisexual drunk friend is hot; no she is beautiful in any article of clothing.

I think of when Jason called her a slut; she kills that stereotype with her mannerisms but as I see her walk, she does not portray that style anymore.

Her smile is soft and with every step, she gives off a grace that I have never seen before. Her long legs are in front of me, stretching for miles before seeing her torso, slim to the touch.

This is not a side of her I have seen before. It's a, say, "classy" side of her. "Are you coming Brit?" she teases me with her head turning back towards me but her body is walking forward.

"Yeah, I'm coming" I smile at her. I mean, I drunkenly smile at her with my glossy covered eyes.

"I know the perfect place" she takes my hand to assist my walking. Her hands are soft, they're relaxing in a way, as if I were in a panicked state, her hands are the hands I want to hold.

Call me a dick, but I had presumed her hands would be rough or dry; like they had been busy for years. I don't like that I assumed this, but with her drinking habits and smoking tendencies, I would've guessed they would be tough.

I had many ideas of who this "she" really is. That she is a drug dealer, or she works for a pimp and this is why she knows how to swoon a guy or girl into spending the night or the money on her.

But from what I see in front of me, she isn't any of those. She is soft and caring, just like her hands. I follow behind her, watching her hair blow in the cool wind. She looks like a Sarah to me. With the H because she is important enough to have an H.

I'll call her Sarah for now. My bisexual friends name is Sarah. I like it, she finally has a name.

"Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?" I joke after stumbling over a small pebble.

"Only to mug you of your smokes and leave you to fend for yourself" she turns to smile at me. She is so beautiful, I love this back and forth she can give to me. This is what makes me wonder, but also worry about her.

Sarah walks up a hill and I follow behind. We've been walking off the beaten path for quite some time now. Spending time walking I silence as we both smoke our cigarettes, it's peaceful. I've stared at her more of the walk than I have actually walked.

I've tripped over many chunks of cement but I haven't cared because she looks so beautiful in this light.

"Here we are" she sits on this hill and places her sweatshirt overhead. The sun peaks through the horizon. Orange, red and pink sits on the dark blue ski. We've made it just before the sun rise, but for some reason, as beautiful as this scene is, I cannot get my eyes off of her.