Sparrows

Chapter 17

Zayn fly’s across the dance floor, stumbling but stable enough not to fall over. Harry is now in between Zayn and I, his jaw is flexed, hands in tight fists by his sides, though I can’t see his eyes I can feel the enraged energy seeping out of them.

Harry starts to walk towards Zayn, who is now standing up straight and grinning, for what reason I don’t know. Harry grabs him by the t-shirt, almost lifting him up in the air. I run to Harry pulling on his elbow, dragging him away from Zayn, but he was too strong for me.

“ She said no.” Harry warns, as if he was listening to Zayn and I’s whole conversation. I am now screaming at Harry,

“Harry stop! Let go of him he didn’t do anything.” He still holds on to Zayn, not flinching, I decide to come in between them though my tiny size compared to these men, and I slowly make my way to Harry’s hand. The energy between us lightens, he feels my pleading for halt, looking down at where my palm rests. From my palm he makes his way to my vision. And just like that, I felt like he could have done anything if I asked him too.

“Stop.” I alert, emphasizing the phrase.

Harry looks back up at Zayn, and then lets go of his grip, letting Zayn and I breathe once more. Before I make my way to Zayn, Harry pulls my hand in his direction, forcing me to follow him, no way getting out of his tight bond. I turn around and mouth “sorry” to Zayn, but he just smirks and gives me a thumbs up.

Wow his plan actually worked.

Harry drags me up the stairs to the second floor of the club, through the thousands of people, to a wide balcony, overlooking the whole city. It was magical, but this moment, not so much.

Harry then spins me by my hand into his direction, where he then lets his grip of me go, and paces up and down the balcony, breathing heavily and brushing his hands through his curly locks. I am just standing here, pissed off, waiting for whatever rant he wanted to give me now.

“What the fuck was that?” he says. Don’t even get me started Harry. All my warm feelings towards Harry after his letter where starting to melt away.

“What do you mean what the fuck? I was dancing with a friend. What the fuck where you doing when you pushed him off me? So don’t what the fuck me fucker.” I articulate. I haven’t said fuck that many times in my life. I’m pretty sure

“ Your friend? I know you just met him today; he spilt that drink all over you! He was trying to kiss you, if I didn’t come and help you you would have been in some deep shit.” His eyes are still dark; I can tell he is trying to keep his temper down with me.

“ It doesn’t matter what he was trying to do. I am an independent women I can fight my own battles thank you very much. And he is my friend, he is taking an art course with Sage at Pratt and we spontaneously-“

“WHO THE FUCK IS SAGE?” Harry now looses his temper, throwing his hands in the air, yelling at me, making me let out my fumes.

“ SAGE IS MY BEST FRIEND ASSWHOLE, SHE WAS AT OUR DINNER PARTY.” I yell back, making Harry huff, and maybe try and calm down. There is a silence, all I can hear is the sound of my hearts beating, trying to filter the anger in my blood, the balderdash of people conversing and the electronic music playing behind the doors. A few people are staring at us, but I don’t think we could care less.