You know Storm is a guardian," Harry immediately says, matter of factly. I nod my head, looking over at him. His eyes are a bit squinted as he gazes out the windshield, his eyebrows furrowed, as if he is thinking. He props his head on his elbow, his elbow resting on the middle console while he drives with the other hand.
"He died a week after I did, in the exact same place I did," Harry whispers, his voice strained. I furrow my eyebrows.
"He doesn't have an accent, though. Why did he live in Holmes Chapel?" I ask, confused.
"He moved to England to go to law school. We just so happened to go to the same one. That's why he was there in Holmes Chapel. The college wasn't far from the village," he says lowly, closely paying attention to the road. He seemed a bit distracted, his words came out slowly, slower than usual.
He continues after a minute. "He hardly even participated in school, he was so caught up in partying. Every single night, he would invite everyone over, and they would all load up on booze. They never even got caught surprisingly," he laughs, running a hand through his hair. I turn my body in the leather seat of the car to where my whole body is facing him. He reaches out and grabs my hand.
"He was with the group of guys the night I was killed. He was the one with the gun," Harry whispers, squeezing my hand gently. "He was the one who killed me."
I gasp, and my eyes go wide with shock. "Storm killed you?" I begin trembling, I don't think I can take any more of this shocking information. It's all too much for one night. However, I need to know. I need to try to understand. For my sake. For Harry's sake.
"A week later, I was upset. I didn't know how to cope. I wanted revenge," Harry snarls, his teeth gritted. "I killed him."
I quickly pull my hand out of his, and press myself against the side of the car. He quickly glances over, his eyes wide, before glancing back to the road.
I'm in shock. Harry killed Storm? This makes me look at Harry in a whole different way, a bad way. I knew Harry had to be dangerous, with the whole situation, but I would've never guessed that he would actually kill someone.
"Madelynn," he says, reaching for me. I flinch away, and slap at his hand, trying to get him to leave me alone.
"Madelynn, you know I would never do anything to hurt you. That was a long time ago, and I was afraid, and angry, and I didn't know what to do. It's all in the past now," he quickly says, grabbing my arm in his cold hand. I try to pull away again, not replying to him.
"Please answer me," he begs, his voice sounding strained and a bit hurt. I take a deep breath and swallow.
"There's nothing to say," I whisper, turning my body back around to the correct way and stare out the windshield.
"There's an infinite amount of things to be said, Madelynn. I know there's something going through your mind," he says sternly, grabbing for my hand. I decide not to pull away this time, and he squeezes gently, trying to get a reaction out of me. I try to remain emotionless.
"Answer me," he simply says, turning on his blinker. I glance over, confused. We're on the middle of the freeway.
"Harry, what are you doing?" I ask, dropping the act of remaining emotionless.
He answers my question by pulling off the road and onto the asphalt beside it, almost in the grass. I gasp, looking at him.
"What are you doing? Get back on the road," I tell him, furrowing my brows. He shakes his head.
"No, Madelynn, we're going to talk about this. I know you have something to say, and I want to know how you feel."
I shake my head and shrug. "Well my guardian is a killer," I say, looking down at my hands. He sighs, leaning his head back against the head-rest of the seat.
"You don't have to be afraid of me," he says simply, not moving.
I sigh loudly. "Did you expect me to not be uncomfortable with it?"
He shrugs. "It thought you'd understand," he says loudly.
"I will never understand why someone would kill another human being, for any reason. Whether it be revenge, hatred, or anything else, I will never understand. You didn't have to kill him," I yell, turning to look at him.
"I told you I was afraid! Afraid and upset!" He yells back, louder than I did. He turns his head and his eyes meet mine. His beautiful eyes glimmer with tears, the wetness threatening to fall over.
"I didn't know what to do. I was stupid then," he whispers.
"You could've done something else other than kill him! No wonder he hates you now, no wonder he's trying to kill me! Harry, this is all your fault!" I scream at him, clenching my fists. This honestly was all his fault. If he hadn't have killed Storm, we wouldn't be in the danger we were in right now.
This sends Harry over the edge. He slams both fists down against the steering wheel, and he lets out a loud sob, tears streaming down his face.
"Do you think I don't already know that?" He sobs, turning and looking at me. His pained expression causes my heart to stop. "Do you think I don't regret it, every single day of my life?"
My eyes widen, and my anger subsides. I begin to regret yelling at him. He's right. He was only hurt. Hurt, afraid, and deprived of his life that he had just barely begun living.
He pauses for a moment, sobbing and trying to catch his breath.
"If I had've known it would put you through so much trouble, I would have never done it. I wouldn't have done it in a million years," he says. He seems to have calmed down, his anger has turned into grief. He slowly turns his head and looks me in the eyes.
"I love you so much."
I nod quickly, and lean over the center console and quickly press my lips to his. The kiss is wet and messy, our saliva mixed with his tears. I don't mind, though. It calms us both down, and washes our worries away, if only for a little while. The kiss is slow, deep, and passionate, and we grip at each other constantly, trying to get closer. The tension between us soon takes a turn, becoming a sexual tension.
He grips my upper arm, tugging me over the console and into his lap. I straddle him, and he quickly leans the seat all the way back, giving us both more room.
I twist my fingers into his hair as his fingers trail up and down my spine. I shiver at his actions, and he chuckles. I thank God that he has stopped crying.
"I need you," he whispers into my mouth, clutching at my hips, sliding his hands up under my shirt. I nod quickly, pulling away from him and looking him dead in the eyes.
"Then have me. Take me, Harry," I say seriously, starting to lift my shirt up. He clenches his eyes shut, leaning his head back against the seat. He takes a few deep breaths before shaking his head.
"No. We can't," He says, and my heart drops in both sadness and embarrassment.
I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. I climb back over the console and into the passenger seat. I buckle my seatbelt into place.
"Hey," Harry whispers, gently touching my thigh. "Look at me."
I slowly look over at him, complying to his request. He cocks his head to the side.
"Don't be upset," he says, his thumb moving against the skin of my thigh. I glance away from him, down to my hands. I hear him sigh, and he removes his touch from me, starting the car and pulling back onto the freeway.
"It's always something with you," he mutters, somewhat angrily as we continue our drive back to my house.
I don't say anything, but just shake my head and look at the buildings and cars passing by in the night.
