Background Noise [HS]

FIVE

The fluorescent city lights shone beautifully in the night air. Strings of festival lights hung above the streets passed in a vibrant blur as they drove through the town, the pair silent. Amidst the absence of sound, his presence loomed heavy. It encompassed her—was felt crawling along the skin of her neck as she shriveled into herself. Violet kept her fingers gripped around the steering wheel, shoulders and arms drawn into her sides. Harry was practically slumped in the passenger seat, head weakly lolled back against the headrest there.

Moving smoothly along the seemingly endless expanse of asphalt, Violet dared a sideways glance at her strange and unplanned company. She was glad to find that his eyes were closed, for he fell a blind victim to her curious, wondrous gaze. The neon lights played a mesmerizing light show across his face as they moved deeper into the city. The colors consisted of blues, greens, reds, and her absolute favorite.

Purple.

It illuminated the strands of his hair, casting a pinkish-purplish angelic glow around the messy ringlets. Violet's eyes dropped down to his rosy lips. They were the most alluring shade of pink, that was, until a shade of red—an angry and deep crimson—came to replace it. The color grew to an alarming vibrance, forcing her to turn her head in search of the source.

The brake pedal was pressed to the floor in an instant. Violet and Harry were thrown forward as rubber squealed against asphalt, the friction created by the harsh pressure of brakes hot and feverish against the tires of her car. It awakened the passenger from his drunken slumber with a start. Large hands clutching at the belt that dug into his chest like some sort of lifeline as the car lurched harshly to a stop. Though the heat flaring at Violet's cheeks provoked her to expect worse, Harry merely reacted with a disgruntled groan before slumping back against the seat.

"Sorry," she gushed with eyes cast straight ahead.

The urge to look to him again grew more and more with every rotation of tire, though she didn't dare distract herself again. It seemed that the sight of him sent her defenses barreling down, for she both ran into a man and nearly ran a red light all in the span of a single night. It was a habit she needed to break if she wished to retain an ounce of sanity, so she grit her teeth and readjusted her grip on the steering wheel. Though, as she watched numerous cars cross through the intersection before her, all with a destination to go along with their journey, reality hit her with realization.

She turned to him at once with one hand on the wheel and the other perched on an armrest. Her eyes fumbled over him like the answer to her question would be found somewhere on the silk of his shirt, perhaps embroidered there. Like a child on a school trip with their name written messily in marker on a sticker placed even more messily onto the fabric of either their shirt or shorts. What was his name? Surely she could ask, though Violet had yet to receive a response from the man who currently seemed out of reality. The situation was just all-too awkward.

"Um," she started unsurely, glancing to him for recognition. Much to her dismay, his stony expression remained the same. "What's your—what's your address? It just dawned on me that I have no idea where I'm headed." She laughed in both an attempt to break the ice and out of desperation, for his body remained stoic there in the passenger seat. Eyes closed, jaw unclenched.

Stony.

The corners of his mouth twitched. Harry had half a mind to give her a direction in which to go, though the idea of returning to his shabby apartment put him off. The risk of running into either Mason or Avery was just too threatening and not worth the trouble. Never mind that he lacked the energy to ward them off, to fight their advances. The pair would undoubtedly send him into an alcohol-induced coma if they so much as stepped foot into the threshold of his home while such a state possessed him so.