Don't Do This.

Septem

I woke up to the sound of Harry humming. Opening my eyes, I saw he had my ear buds plugged into my phone. He notices me, doing a double take before fully assessing that I was awake. 

“Good morning, love,” he says, pulling out one of his ears. 

“Morning,” I reply, sleep still eminent in my voice. “What time is it?”

“Half noon.” I sit up from once leaning against the door and take the available ear bud. 

“Rise from the dead you say? Secrets don’t sleep ’til they’re took to the grave. Signal the sirens, rally the troops, ladies and gentlemen, it’s the moment of truth.” I look at him oddly. 

“What?” he asks. 

“I just never expected you to like Bring Me the Horizon.”

“Well I could say the same for you.” Pardon?

“Oh really?”

“Really. You just seem so happy all the time. I could never have thought you would have such great bands on here. Sleeping With the Sirens, Bring Me the Horizon, Pierce the Veil, Falling in Reverse, and least to forget Of Mice and Men,” he says, pulling into a diner on the side of the road. 

“Where have you been all my life?” I reach into the back seat and wake up Park so we can eat. As we’re seated, I snag my phone back from Harry and check for anything I might’ve missed. 

“Are we there yet?” Park asks, propping his head up on his arm. 

“Not quite. I’d give it 15 minutes tops.”

“Wait, where are we going, exactly?” I interrupt.

“Doncaster.” Oh, so Park must’ve told him. 

“I made sure of that, miss ‘I want to sleep in’ and mister ‘I’ll carry her to the car’,” Park mocks as the waitress comes to our table. After she leaves, Park announces he has to pee and excuses himself. 

“So how’d you get into bands like that?” I ask Harry, laying my legs on top of his. 

“Well, after not making it into The X-Factor, a friend of mine took me to see Bring Me the Horizon in an effort to cheer me up, and we ended up moshing about and I loved it. I began to like other bands like that, but never let it affect me,” he says, sipping his coke. 

“So you’ve never gotten a tattoo?”

“Well, yes, actually. I got this star,” he says, pulling up his sleeve to show me, “when I turned 18. I just wanted to know what it felt like. And then, I got this one on my chest just because,” he says, pulling down his shirt to show me the 17/Black tattoo. “What about you?”

“I actually have a lot, so why don’t I tell you the story behind them later?” 

“Oh come on, Lennon.” Jon interrupts before sitting down. 

“What?”

“At least show him the ones on your arms.” I think about it before pulling up my sleeves. 

“Well, I have these on my wrists because I’m a writer, and I have ‘Omnis cellula e cellula’ written on my arm because I absolutely adore “The Fault In Our Stars”.” I try to pull my sleeves back down, but he grabs my arm. 

“What’s this?” he asks, pointing to my scars. Oh shit. 

“Nothing. Oh look, food,” I say, taking my plate from the waitress. We eat in silence, my legs still across Harry’s lap. We split the check (after fighting for what seemed like forever over who’d pay) and left.

“Why didn’t you tell me you cut?” Harry asked coldly when we got in the car. 

“Well, it never seemed important. I mean, with a face like mine, it’s only expected of me to be dep—” I’m interrupted by Harry’s lips crashing on mine. 

“Lennon, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. There’s no reason for you to have to resort to that,” he says, starting the car. 

“Seriously, why have you not been in my life all these years?” I ask after a few minutes. 

“Technically he’s been in your life this entire time, he just never knew you existed,” Park retorts. I laugh, knowing how true it was. 

“I must not have had a good life if I hadn’t met you,” he flirts, stealing a kiss. 

“Oh please.”