Artifice

Broken

Perfect MV fits pretty well with this part of the story. (I would put the gif but I'm on my phone and I'm too lazy to try to figure out how to do so)

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Liam's POV

Walking to the front door, I was ready to knock out whoever was banging on it, causing me to wake up.

"Eva?" I didn't fully get to process her being here before she stormed past me. "Eva what are you doing?" I followed her until she walked into Harry's room.

Shit.

I back up, knowing this wasn't my problem to deal with.

Harry was foolish enough to fall for her, knowing that one day he would have to fess up about everything he was keeping secret.

I made myself a bowl of cereal, while the sounds of Harry yelling and banging against something echoed through the apartment.

The ruckus stopped and Harry rushed into the kitchen, knocking open the drawers and pulling out a knife.

"What are you?" The man looked bloody crazy.

"She locked the damn door."

I breathed out when he revealed that he indeed wasn't going back in the room to kill her.

Minutes later Eva was running to the door and Harry behind her with that stupid journal he spent majority of his time looking at.

Soon she was gone, the journal in her hands and the only thing that remained in my bowl was milk. Talk about dinner and a show.

Harry disappeared into his room. From what I could hear he was tearing apart his belongings. Things were crashing on the ground as he yelled. I let him take it all out, he needed it and as long as he wasn't replacing the things he was throwing around with my face I was dandy.

Harry sauntered back into the living room, his bleeding fist clenched together. Christ, he was going mad.

"Yo!" I yelled seeing him grab a lamp in his hands. I was too late, as he smashed it against the wall causing it to smash into hundreds of pieces. "Harry!" I yelled to stop him from reaching for the other one. "Those cost a fortune you idiot!"

He glared up at me, his eyes almost being unrecognizable by how dark they were.

"You're cleaning that shit up." I pointed at the broken glass all over the floor.

-

A few beers later Harry was slurring his words. He rarely ever drank, unless it wasn't enough to get him drunk.

The floor was still littered with pieces of glass but the rage in his eyes was gone.

"Is it crazy that I love her?" He asked. The more he drank, the calmer he became.

Harry definitely wasn't an angry drunk, he either turned into a literal teddy bear or a philosopher. There had been times where we were in the middle of a club and all he wanted to do was cuddle with me or had a thirty minute conversation with a barista about what the real meaning of life was.