Background Noise [HS]

TWELVE

Violet swiped away the last of her dignity with the pads of her thumbs before heading in direction of the door. It resembled a walk of shame, the way she slowly sauntered towards it. Her face felt puffy with the irritation that came with crying, but it was too late to turn back now. The guilt of changing her mind would be far worse than any self-embarrassment, so she chose the latter. Her belongings—a simple beige shoulder bag filled with the barest necessities—were gathered into her chest. Arms timidly crossed and hands pressed to her collarbones, the purse held there, she broke down every lock and removed the barrier between them.

Violet felt anything but presentable facing the model of a male stood before her. Her hair was wildly curly and frizzy with humidity, the strands framing her face stuck to the skin of her cheeks and temples. Harry was effortlessly handsome, the crimson rimming his eyes undetectable in the lack of light. Much to her dismay, there was little hiding the glistening tears beneath the moonlight streaming down onto her doorstep. Though, nature's spotlight cast Harry in an angelic light. Framed his broad shoulders as well as the mane of hair that fell upon them.

The small smile offered to her was radiant, genuine. He commented not on the tears still present along the frame of her eyelashes but on the harsh weather, and with a curse beneath the billow of his breath that only served as proof. This side of him warmed her insides, though her skin showed signs of cold.

"Come on, then," Harry encouraged when the timid girl did little to speak. This talk was light, easy. "Let's head to mine."

Violet told him of her gratitude through words barely audible before turning around to lock the door with her set of keys, fingers fumbling in the cold. By the time she finished, Harry was stood on the passenger side of his Rover, door held open for the chilled girl to rush into the awaiting warmth inside. Something about the cheeky grin playing along his lips whilst he rolled his free hand in a playful hurry up, come on sort of motion lifted Violet's mood. So much so that she couldn't help but smile when he feigned impatience by bouncing a bit on his battered boots.

The action was a means of lifting her sunken spirit, though the artificial joy was contagious there in the cold, for Harry couldn't resist being uplifted by it, too. It was hard not to be, at the sight of her.

The clumsy girl quickly ducked beneath his extended arm and clambered into the leather confines of his car. Harry checked to make sure she was safely in before shutting the door and rushing around to his own side. The harsh wind nipped at every bit of exposed skin as he moved, the hair in his eyes stung, though every part of him felt awakened and alive in the cutting night air. The heaviness in his bones felt lighter, somehow. Perhaps it was the drugs lingering in his system, the booze sizzling out in his veins.

Perhaps it was only her.

The pair now out of the bitter cold, Harry's hand was quick to reach for the chrome dials serving contrast to the otherwise black interior of his luxury vehicle. Violet had never seen something so extravagant. It was all she could focus on, even when he looked to her with concern, gauging her facial expression as to how she was feeling. He looked beyond the tears rimming her eyes as she did the crimson surrounding his, saw her as more than a mere damsel in distress as she did him just a drunk littering the streets so many nights before.

"How's that?" Harry's eyes searched her face, fingers still wrapped around the dial controlling her side of the cabin. "Warm enough?"

Violet nodded gratefully—felt like a ball of warmth wrapped in a heap of blankets sat atop the heated leather seats. Just the idea of him thinking to turn them on for her comfort alone was enough to provoke a blush that brought a different kind of warmth to her tear-stained cheeks. This had Violet smiling all the way to his flat, though she did her best to conceal the overpowering bout of contentment with a turn of her head, a pressing of nose into seat belt. This gave her a perfect view of the city, of the beautiful string of neon lights passing in a colorful, blinding blur.