The whole room would be clinical if it wasn't for the flashing of vivid color. Colors that are pink, yellow, blue and green. All separated from each other just by blinks of an eye. The room is white underneath the loud noises and the frantic order of colors. When we all finally go home it'll be that same pristine white color. Cold and detached, just like the way I am. I hold my drink in my hands ignoring the sound of the booms hitting off the walls, I watch as the love of my life is staring at her phone. I watch her and light on her phone changes colors to. A lump settles on my throat like a boat that is about to set out to sea. I trace the brim as she swipes down her feed. Most likely Instagram, that's her favorite site. I remember no longer seeing pictures of me with her on her profile but instead another guy. Who doesn't look at all like me, this guy looks better for her.
I remember catching her at a party and she wasn't dancing. I remember seeing her perfect face and body but not sliver of movement in them. Just disdain in the pair of intelligent yet drunken eyes. With a drink in one hand she looks at me and I smiled and returned it with another. Next thing I knew she had one of my hands she was leading me away from the party. We were almost at the bathroom when I stop her. "How old are you?" I ask and her already flush face became even pinker. "Not what's your name? How old are you really?" She inquires her words are slightly slurred but I could tell clearly that she had a thick American accent. "Sorry you name?" I ask. "Call me MJ." She states warmly. "Alright Marijuana, how old are you?" She rolls her eyes tugging me towards the white wooden door of the bathroom but I wouldn't budge. "A woman never tells her age." She groans fixing her small skirt. I wasn't going to let this go. "I am technically eighteen."
"So You are seventeen and a half?" I mumble trying to get her to let go of my hand.
"Hasn't anyone told you that age is just a number?" She asks, "Not when it can end with me in tight handcuffs and an orange suit." I say and she releases me, "How about we go out for a drive instead." I suggest.
My lips curve into an almost smile, I was twenty-one then, I remember, staring at her with my shirt on, holding a record that was playing. I watch idly at the TV with no sound then, back the boyish shape girl in-front of me. Her head is bobbing to Depeche Mode's Enjoy the Silence ironically because she never shuts up. "I love you hair." I say, and she giggles. "I know." I frown, "We should go to one of their concerts soon." She says putting a cigarette to her mouth and light it. The smell fills the air, her eyes looks at me and I look outside at the city that I use to love. It's awake and alive calling for people like her to fill it with life, I use to be called but all in all it is nothing but it's an unappealing nudge. I look at MJ and she smiles and I look down at the train tracks and frown. "Are you okay?" She asks sitting her small framed self on my lap. I run my hands around her hips and her short hair. "I worried about Harry, you are not yourself anymore." She states pecking my lips. "I don't know...I guess I am getting too old for this life style." I sigh looking back at the unappealing city. "What do you mean? Are you getting tired of me?" She asks and I shrug. "I don't know, I am just having a change of heart." I say. The record stops playing, the TV plays mutely and it's just her and I. "You are too young for a midlife crisis." She laughs ruffling my hair as she get's up. I can hear her hard footsteps. She always walks so heavy.
MJ and I lock eyes but she can't see me and I like that and at the same time I don't. A part of me just want put my fingers through her short jet black hair. Watch as her skin ranges as it gets colder another wants to let her be. I get up and put a crumble hundred-dollar bill out of my pocket before getting up and walking out. Behind me are the rays of colors as I watch the color change on the concrete. I move a bit over against the chain link fence. I watch as her and her new boyfriend walks out. She puts her cigarette in her mouth the wrong way again. He lights it for her and he does it the same way before walking away.
The air is cold even to me...who feelscold already. But I just drop twenty degrees as I walk away, from her and the city.
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