You could drag me through hell if it meant I could hold your hand
I knew we were driving south from the city passing in the distance. However, Harry missed the exit for New York and kept going. We spent many hours alone in his car, not exchanging words, just listening to the low hum of the radio. My mind wandered as to why Harry was so silent - had he remembered what I told him seconds before we were interrupted? I would never know.
The sun set long before we reached a secluded airport. Harry put his sleek black car in park, and opened the door without turning the key to kill the engine. How careless, he was. I exited the car and followed him. He was talking to a man much shorter than himself.
"You know what to do." Was all I heard his deep, raspy voice produce. The shorter man nodded, walking over to the vehicle as two other men walked from it, our luggage in their hands. We followed them across the tarmac, walking for what felt like forever by the cramps in my calfs, until we reached a private jet. It only intrigued me to ask more questions about Harry's job, knowing that he could afford such a pricey item.
I followed Harry up the stairs, seeing him sit in a reclining seat.
"You look exhausted." I accidentally let the words slip past my lips without thinking.
He cracks a small smile. "Well, I am pretty exhausted."
I smiled at the movement of his lips. I laid back in my own chair, closing my eyes. "Where are we going?"
Harry sighed, but it didn't sound like it was a sigh of annoyance. "Sicily."
My eyes widened at the location. "Wow." I looked around the small jet. It was extremely luxurious, with champagne bottles lined up across a shelf towards the back and every seat covered in a rich leather. "This is my first time on a plane. And my first time leaving the country. What's Italy like?"
Harry's eyes were shut when I turned to look at him. "Italy is...Italian."
I wanted to roll my eyes at his answer, but we were both exhausted, so I couldn't blame him. I just laid back into my seat, preparing to sleep.
Right as I started to doze off, he spoke again.
"Italy is unlike any other place in the world. You feel like you're in a different era when you're there. The people are kinder than the people of your city." He chuckled. "That's not hard to do, though."
I giggled quietly, not having much energy. "Can't disagree with you on that."
The jolt of the plane, signaling it was not longer static, make my hands clutch onto the arm rests of my seat. I opened up the window of the jet, ready to see all I've ever known be left behind. I never thought it would be easy - hell, I cried my eyes out when we left for that school field trip - but with Harry by my side, everything felt as if it was going to be alright. Maybe I will make it out alive.
As the plane rose, my stomach felt queasy, so I closed my eyes until I felt at ease. I peeked through my lashes to see the blinding lights of New York through the thick pollution. I've always seen that city of mine from an ant's perspective, besides from pictures, but it was truly amazing to see if from what felt like the top of the world. My hand pressed to the cold window, my way of a silent "goodbye". I passed out minutes later.
-
I woke up to the sound of a champagne bottle being popped open. I rubbed my eyes carefully, looking over at Harry to see why he was pouring himself a chute of the rich beverage. Then I saw the lines of llello.
"Cocaine? Really?" I questioned. He threw back his glass of his drink like a shot, before looking at me.
"I need to wake up. Care to do a line with me?" He asked, picking his credit card up between his thumb and index, trying to make the lines straighter if it's possible.
I frowned, but stood up and walked over to the seat across from his. "I didn't really have a great reaction, last time."
He bit his lips, which would have gone unnoticed if I hadn't been looking at them. "You also didn't know how to take care of yourself, last time. Do it." He shoved a paper bill over to me, Benjamin Franklin printed on the front. His cockiness was coming through once again, why couldn't he just hand me a worthless one? Worthless to him, at least. Maybe hundred-dollar-bills is all he had on him, a problem I wish I had.
"I don't know, Harry-"
"You trust me, don't you?" He questioned me, focusing on rolling his own bill. He did it so carefully, so professionally, his finger catching the paper ever so perfectly. His fingers were made to sin.
I did trust him. Here's that Bad Boy in him, making my weakness come out. The effect of naughty behavior.
I watched as he did his own line first, sniffing the powder up and having a normal reaction. His eyes looked glassy, but mine were about to be waterfalls.
"Go ahead, no one's stopping you." He continued to sniff, most likely from the uncomfortable rawness in his sinus.
I sighed, looking down at the line. It brought back memories to the first night I met Harry - the night I met that man who would turn my world upside down. I glanced up at him through my lashes, seeing him staring down at me to do what he said.
I thought quickly was better than slowly sniffing up the drug, but I was wrong. Ben Franklin fell from my grasp as pain surged through my entire head, my eyes watering like crazy.
Harry chuckled. He must be amused by the amateurism. Typical.
I swore as the pain increased in intensity in every breath. He did this to me. I couldn't learn to say no. His presence blocking my train of thought and ability to make correct decisions. I couldn't win around him.
My hand wiped under my nose, pulling away to have blood on my fingers. "Harry, I'm bleeding." I announced.
Harry observed my "accident", walking away to fetch something from the bathroom, I think. The effects of the powerful cocaine began to take over as he talked to me. He came back over with something white, and handed it to me.
He chuckled at my shakiness and my attempt to hide it. He saw my confusion with the object, and took matters into his own hands. He dabbed underneath my nose with a sweet touch. Something I thought I'd never see.
"Harry." I whisper.
"Hm." He hums in response, his voice sounding like music to my ears.
I slightly bit my lip. "We never finished our conversation."
I thought he was ask stupid questions to get off topic, since he held a strong hatred of being confronted, but he kept proving me wrong. He seized his actions. His jade eyes glided over mine.
"I know." He said in a low tone, then continued with the mess I made.
I was silent - I always feel like I know what to say, but there just isn't words to explain it. It took me that to discover that maybe I don't need to use me words anymore. Maybe my actions can do the talking for me.
"Harry." I whispered again. His hand fell to his side; he must be done cleaning me up. Cleaning up the never-ending tragedy in front of him.
His eyes still scanning over my face, making my hands even more clammy. God, this effect makes it worse.
I take a breath.
"Can I kiss you?"
I'd probably forget my own name before I'd forget yours
