Punk Rock - h.s au

V - Harry

V - Harry.

"Watch where you're going!" I snap at the girl on the floor.

"I- Uhm- Err," She stutters looking at up at me with big glistening blue eyes.

"Shit. Look, sorry I didn't mean to make you cry." I offer her my hand.

She hesitantly takes it, gasping when she steps more into the streetlights and sees me. I tell just by the image of the blonde haired girl, that she is not a fan. Thank goodness. I don't need to be jumped on by some clingy girl who just wants to be able to tweet about having sex with me. Not tonight.

"It's okay, I... I don't even know why I'm out here." She says, her voice soft and forgiving. 

Don't talk to her Harry. Don't get involved. She's innocent. You'll ruin her. 

"I'm.." I pause, thinking of the consequences but ignoring them anyway "I'm Harry, and you are?"

"Isabelle. Isabelle Buckingham." She greets, yet to let go of my helping hand.

 "Well, Isabelle, Isabelle Buckingham, why is a girl like you out so late... Alone?" I ask, my wording seems to startle her a bit and she releases my hand.

"Just clearing my head." She says slowly and cautiously.

The croak of an old, crappy engine echoes the dimly lit street Isabelle and myself occupy and I already know who it is, my eyes immediately drift to the ground before me and I stare at my converse until I'm sure he's driven past. I didn't want to see her- well, no. I didn't want to see her with him. She's not like him, she'll never be like him. She's my blue haired screamer not his blonde haired hipster, he's changed her and she was perfect the way she was.

"Um, are you okay?" Isabelle interrupts my dangerous thoughts "You seem tense." She stares down at my fisted hands.

"Yeah, fine. Sorry." I mumble "I know this is going to sound weird but..." I begin before she finishes my sentence.

"Do you wanna get a coffee?" I nod and lead her to the coffee shop I'd previously been watching.

I tell her what I want, handing her the money too and go sit down. My mind was a battlefield right now, I was angry at her (Not Isabelle.), myself and the world, I know for sure she isn't that empty feeling I have- it was there when she was around, I'm angry that I've lost her, my distraction, to a gimp. But I guess I can't hate my inspiration.

When Isabelle takes a seat infront of me, she pushes my coffee towards me and shockingly asks "So, why are you out so late?"

I smile at her, she'd been so fragile and attentive before "Just torturing myself with the past, it's nothing really, felt like I needed a reminder." That was bent truth.

I had been torturing myself with the past but not for a reminder, so I don't have to let go.

"That's unhealthy, you know?" She sips her drink- hot chocolate I think, "The past is a dangerous place to let your mind wander. I learned that in the mountains of Japan."

"Mountains of Japan?" I ask, intrigued.

"Yeah, beautiful place." She smiles, drifting off a little "So yeah, the past is not a good place, whether the memory be bad or good."

"How come?" That's an odd theory. Even good memories are bad?

"The bad are obviously bad because it makes you feel bad about the past, makes you want to change your life, it makes you so desperate to rid that memory, you don't think of the consequences and good memories, they make you want to go back and keep reliving, good memories stop people from going forward." 

This girl is remarkable, all I know is her name, what she looks like and the fact she's been to Japan and I'm already clinging on, dying to know more. I'm dying to know if she drinks hot chocolate on a regular and dresses like that all the time. Is her hair natural? Does she wear make up? How about her eyes? Does she get that beautiful brown from her mother or father? I don't care if I never see this girl again, tonight I'm pretending I'm in-love, tonight I'm letting every other girl go and my attention is on Isabelle Buckingham the girl that, thankfully, doesn't look where she's going.

"That's beautiful." I say, finishing off my coffee just as she does her hot chocolate.

"I like your piercings." She blurts before blushing and looking away.

I couldn't help but smirk, nor could I help the lift of my left eyebrow as I look at her in confusion and amusement "You like my piercings? You?"

It was a weird thought, she was this pure and innocent girl who wears a girly, childish pink ribbon in her hair or at least, that's what she wants people to think. But still, why would she like my sinful piercings? Maybe she'd like my freak-like tattoos and depressing songs too?

Why am I expecting so much from this girl I maybe have for only one night?

"Yeah." She smiles "They're different. I like different."

"This is going to sound crazy," I mutter "But do you wanna go back to mine? We can do whatever you want, anything. Watch a movie, talk, eat, even sit in silence, just don't leave me yet."

----

Is this odd? I think this is odd..