Quiet is Violent

Chapter Thirty Seven

School was slow. My first day back, I sat away from Zayn in the class we had, Harry didn't even show up. Some people noticed that I wore a depressed look, and the few people I talked to in class gave me sympathetic smiles.

The next day went the same. Harry was gone, I sat in the back. I was assigned a large essay in my history course, it occupied me for the rest of the night.

Three days after I decided to go for a walk. I managed to get around to parts of campus I really hadn't seen before. I talked with Professor Callen, my psych teacher about the possibilities of getting an internship over a summer in New York, the opportunity excited me.

Four days later I decided to do myself a favor. After my classes, and successfully having one of the few days I expect to have with no homework, I went shopping. I didn't need anything, or want anything for that matter, but the silence of my dorm was creeping down my spine every waking moment. I used the credit card my father gave to me. I never bought many clothes, all I ever wore were skinny jeans and long sleeved shirts. Occasionally my leggings and a hoodie, but really I always looked better in my beloved shirts, they made me secure. I got myself new bras, underwear, a pair of jeans, and a few sweaters that I got on clearance. Not to mention a nice heated blanket for when it gets cold, the huge window in my room doesn't do much for keeping me warm. To too it off, I found a comfy dress. I really never "dressed up", but it was really nice, and a good price. It had sleeves down to my wrists, and the dark maroon material went to just above my knee. A little more revealing, but I liked it. It was skintight as well, making my bust pop, but I ignored it.

On the fifth day after Natalie left, I got a phone call from Chad. I was expecting something a lot better than what I got, but I should, and I am, thankful that he actually went through with calling. The most he really saidwas apologize that I had to live alone. Now at least we had something in common. I was assigned a few more assignments in psychology, but with my skill level and emptiness, I finished them within 20 minutes of being back in the dorm.

Now I lay awake on a Friday night. It's nearly 7 pm and it's a beautiful fall night, the bonfire should be going on right about now. I recall going with Natalie, when Liam and Harry bombarded us. I couldn't help but smile, thinking back of how ignorant Harry was, but he managed to put a smile on my face later that night.

My smile was soon replaced with fear, the fear of drowning. Dying. Closing my eyes, I bit down on my cheek, tasting a small amount of blood. I cringed, but opened my eyes once more.

Somehow I knew Harry would never harm me in that way, I don't think he has the heart to do that to me. To anyone for that matter. I am sitting here twiddling my thumbs, the most interesting thing I can think to do.

I hear a knock at the door and I feel my brain turn to mush. What if it's Natalie? I hope it is. I sit up, and take a few steps to the door, turning the lock.

I open it wide, and I am shocked to see a familiar figure standing among me. He hasn't changed much since I last saw him, but I still tense up.

"Hey," he said awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. His tall figure towered over me, and I was using every muscle in my body to keep myself from slamming the door in his face.

"Hey," I managed to say, my voice cracking a bit as I spoke. I tried to keep my eyes off of his, but they always found his no matter what my mind said.

"I really.. Really miss you, and I need to talk to you," Harry said carefully and I felt a tear slip down my cheek. I sucked in my lip, hoping to keep from any crying noises, and it was thankfully helping so far.

"I.. I.." I try to respond, but I can't. My every other thought is about Harry. I can estimate that 98% of it is the good, the other small 2% is negative.

"Peyton," he speaks slowly, captivating my attention by using my first name. "I know I was so wrong," he choked. I can't imagine how hard it must be. "But you, there's something about you, Peyton. I can't explain the way you make me feel, and I can't grasp the concept of not being with you while you're here." I take a deep breath as he's speaking. "That bet... Was the sickest, most bloody thing I've ever suggested doing to someone who meant something to me. I swear I could never hurt you, please just understand that." He stood, his eyes searching my face. I was holding my breath, registering everything Harry just said to me. It was safe to say that I was speechless.

"Say something," he whispered and I looked at my feet, hoping that being withough his eyes on mine I could think about what I just witnessed.

"I'm so.. lonely," I begin but I am taken by surprise when Harry pushes his body into mine, taking my face gently as ever right into his hands. I looked deeply into his eyes, my breathing heavy.

"I can't let you be lonely."

I swallowed hard. "Then be with me," I croaked, Harry's strong arms wrapping around my small body. His lips crashed into mine, making my body urn for more. I moaned softly into his mouth, the impact of our kiss truly controlling my mind and body. His kiss is the same as I recall, perfect.

I pull back, gasping for air. Harry's emerald green eyes locked into mine once again. I realized that Harry was half in the hall still. I smiled weakly at him and he shook his head, standing up straight again.

"Kate, I am so sorry."

I shake my head, still not thinking clear. At this point, I'm just following my gut. "It's alright," I assured him and his eyes became weary.

"It's not, I can barely handle myself," Harry said under his breath, and I turned my head slightly, taking a step back so he could fully be in the room with me.

"Barely handle yourself?" I asked, concerned as to what that meant.

"Violet went too far."

That was true, but Harry was in on it. It shows that he wouldn't have told me the truth if it wasn't for her. By the look on Harry's face, something went very wrong.

"What happened?" I asked, still feeling clueless. How back could it be?

"I got myself into a little.. Trouble," Harry looked down at his feet, making my excitement of having him here die down.

"Wh.. What happened?" I stammer, not able to think of anything he could have done to get him in trouble.

"I sort of got drunk, I was breaking things and I guess I almost set Liam on fire," Harry said a little more easier than I expected.

"You almost set Liam on fire?" I asked, hysterical.

"He wasn't the more sober guy around either," Harry laughed shortly. I urged myself to smile, grateful when I get one in return.

"Are you okay, though?" I ask, placing my quivering hand against Harry's warm cheek. He slowly closed his eyes and took a feel breath. I watched him carefully, taking in every moment I spent with him.

"I'm fine," he promised, opening his eyes. I smiled and Harry grabbed my other hand, grasping if between his. "I can't even explain why it all happened, I am just so deeply attached to you," he muttered and I listened to his words carefully. "I think about you constantly, it killed me not seeing you for this long, and honestly coming here, I was so scared that you would hate me."

I let my hand fall from his cheek, squeezing his hand with both of mine. "I was in confusion, anger, I was hurt. But not for one second did I hate you."

Harry was now slowly caressing my cheek with his free hand. He moved a piece of hair behind my ear and then gave me a small smile. "This is taking a lot out of me to actually say this, but Kate, do you want to go to that bonfire?"

My whole life lit up. Somehow Harry realized how much I wanted to go, or maybe I told him I loved bonfires? Either way, I was positive that my grin stretched across my whole entire face. Without a word, Harry chuckled.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, before bending down and kissing me again.

I should have known that he would fix everything. Harry cares about me, and I know that I care very much about him. I didn't even care about the bet, and deep down inside of me I know that it's the right thing just to let it go. The past is the past, you can't change it.