Wildfire // H.S // AU

04

Two days.

It had been two whole damn days driving around in Ivy’s car. Needless to say Harry was getting impatient, irritable – Harry was Harry just bit more amplified. The first day he drove her car around on a search hunt for his own, he couldn’t even move the damn seat back to adjust to his lanky 6’2 body until he realized that you had to jiggle the handle underneath the seat twice to get it to move.

The whole first day driving around, he wondered if she had scratched the paint or switched the radio station or rifled through his cd collection in the armrest. He drove with a scowl engraved into his godly features. That day when he had refused to skip out on the gym a few people who Harry didn’t frighten to death took notice to his new, smaller ride.

“Since when are you driving around in that thing?” One of them said stifling a laugh as Harry yanked his gym bag from the back seat.

“Since when can you talk with your foot in your mouth?” Harry shot back, shouldering past the heftier man whose name he hadn’t bothered himself to learn although he’d seen the guy at the gym for the last year.

“Just used to seeing you in the Range,” another guy said who was just about the same height as Harry, but his weight wasn’t muscle or fat. The guy was as skinny as a twelve-year-old pubescent boy.

“Unless either of you plan on being the next object I put my fist through, move.” That was an example of how most human interaction Harry had went with Harry that way, with the exception of Green Eyes as he would have called her. She was 5’3 and a gymnastic which pleased Harry to say the least. He was nicest to her for a few hours that evening until he climaxed and she was nothing more but the purpose of having a vagina in his eyes.

Today was the second day. Harry couldn’t stand it. He was determined to find Ivy and the only thing he really cared about, his car that is. He called in sick to “work” and set out on a scavenger hunt for the 5’8 blond with the body of goddess and the personality of Satan. He pulled up to the place they had met and stalked around looking for the bartender that had given away his identity to Ivy.

“You,” he said and Ronnie stood from the ground with a case of vodka in his arms.

“Customers aren’t allowed back here.” Ronnie said and adjusted the box in his arms.

“The chick with the blond hair from the other night, where does she live?” Ronnie took this as everything but a good sign knowing Harry was talking about Ivy and shrugged with a confused expression. “Don’t play dumb, you told her my name.”

“If I knew where she lived why the hell would I tell you that?” Ronnie reciprocated, stepping out of the cooler doorway that was big enough so Harry could block him in. Harry followed close behind shooting daggers at the back of his head.

“‘Cause the bitch stole my car after I saved her life.” Ronnie chuckled and simultaneously thanked God that Harry had chosen to stay on the other side of the bar while he restocked it. The thought of the likes of Harry saving anyone’s life but his own was comedic. Ronnie had observed Harry night after night, realizing he only did thing to his benefit.

“I’m sorry pal but I doubt you couldn’t have stopped her if she was trying to steal your car. And what exactly did you save her from anyway? Being the next girl you emotionally scar?”

Harry took a deep breath, realizing that this guy just might be the only chance he had at getting his car back and cussing Ivy out until cringed. “Look outside,” he said through gritted teeth, “do I look like the type of guy to drive a white fucking sedan?” Harry clicked the lock button for the car sound off and Ronnie stood back in shock.