Bad Choices

eight

Late night thoughts: How can something so beautiful press poison against her lips?

Songs for this chapter:
In my veins- Andrew Belle
Hurts like hell- Fleurie
So cold- Ben Cocks

Harry. Well, not Harry alone. Harry who is pressing a girl up agains a wall. No space between them. Kissing, making out. Sucking on each other's fucking faces.

I'm frozen, dumbfounded, staring as I feel my heart breaking. A tear rolling down my face. I want to look away, but I can't.

It hurts, it hurts so fucking much. So much I just want to scream. Scream at myself, scream at him, scream at the world.

Anger pulls over my body, mixed with grief. I gave him everything, I would do everything for him. I love him and he throws me away. He knew I would be here but still, he just can't help himself.

And I'm stupid, so fucking stupid for believing that people can change, that he changed, that he loved me.

Before I can register what's going on I'm right in front of him, tearing him from the black haired girl and push him against the wall, right next to there little make out place.

Than I hit him.

I don't slap him, or push him, I full on hit him with my fist as hard as I can. Tears streaming down my face as I look into his sliver eyes full of shock. Those silver eyes that I now hate so much.

"IDIOT!" I scream at him before I punch his face again. His face spinning with my punch. "YOU FUCKING WHORE!" I yell, my throats hurts.

His head slowly spins to meet my eyes again. Is it regret I see? "Zora," he weakly say.

"Don't say my name," I threaten him, my voice now low, thick like blood.

Talking about blood, his nose is bleeding. Good.

I take a step back from him, shaking my head. "I can't look at you." Than I back away from him.

Turning around, noticing everyone are staring and that the music has stopped.

I need to get out of here.

So I run to the closest exit. I don't need to push through the crowd, they move out of my way.

I hear someone call my name but I don't bother to turn around.

Then I'm out. The cold air hits my warm damp cheeks. I don't come far before a hand stops me.

"Let me go!" I yell at Harry who looks mortified.

There aren't as many people out here as in there but we still have a few curious glances.

"I can explain." He tells me. His face already going red and starting to bruise up, blood still rolling from his nose.

I hope I broke it. Like he broke me.

"No!" I want to yell but it comes out as I'm begging. My voice raspy.

"Zora, please, I just-"

"You don't get it, do you?" I interrupt him, slowly shaking my head. The rush of anger I felt before has drained away, replaced by pure heartbreak. "I loved you, I loved you so fucking much and it hurts, it fucking hurts ,Harry, because you don't know how to give back that love." More tears roll down my face and I want to look away from Harry's eyes. But I won't.

"I don't think you know how to love anything,Harry. And I'm sorry for smelling like smoke when you wanted to smell roses, for having scares where you wanted to touch me and tasting like alcohols when you wanted to taste mint, but so you know what? I'm sick of saying sorry!" His eyes are now as sad as mine, shiny. I don't even bother to stay calm, or brush my tears away.

"I need to stop thinking about you because I know you aren't thinking of me." His eyes are so cold, like the chilly wind blowing in my hair. And I feel cold, so, so cold. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you wanted," he opens his mouth to say something, but close it soon after.

A painful smile tugs on my mouth, the one he kissed what feels like seconds ago. "I wish I was what you wanted."

Than I turn around and walk away. This time, he doesn't call my name, he doesn't stop me.

We are all addicted to something that takes the pain away, and I always though mine was cigarettes. But I guess I was wrong, my addiction was Harry.