the brave ones // h.s.

item eleven - ii

Eden pouts like a child in the car, arms crossed over her chest and bottom lip protruding while a deep crease settles in between her eyebrows. Her head rests on the glass of the driver's side window and she stares out at nothing until the heat soaking in through the roof begins to lull her to sleep. Her eyes flutter shut and she settles into her seat, momentarily forgetting what caused her enough distress to run to the car in the first place.

That is until Harry opens the passenger side back door and tosses in two bags of his laundry. He slams the door, effectively startling Eden awake, and then clambers into the passenger seat.

"We need to talk," he says sharply. The glint in his eyes is enough to silence Eden into submission. She nods small, feeling her hands begin to tremble. If he's going to yell, she may not be able to handle it.

But the yelling doesn't come. Instead, he keeps his voice low and forceful as he says, "What's going on with you? I said three words and you completely shut me out. Your mood swings are giving me whiplash here."

Swings? As in multiple?

Eden racks her brain, trying to think of when else her mood suddenly took a sudden plummet. But the hard look in Harry's eyes tells her she's focusing on the wrong thing, and she quickly dismisses those thoughts.

"If you're upset with me then I need you to tell me," he says. "And if you're not then I'd appreciate if you stopped acting like you are."

Eden is stunned. Sweet, kind Harry seems to have reached the end of his miles of patience. She probably should've seen this coming; he's only human, after all, and even she's having some difficulty handling the chaos of emotion inside her head. Before she can respond, he speaks again.

His eyes are softer, more earnest where they were reprimanding moments earlier. "If something's wrong, you can tell me. I'm on your side."

Are you?

It takes every atom in her body acting in the same moment to bite back the urge to spit those words at him.

They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before Eden finally sighs and concedes. "Nothing's wrong. I don't know what came over me in there, I just . . . sorry. I shouldn't have snapped."

Harry gazes at her thoughtfully, so intently he seems to be prying through every layer of her being. "Is it because I asked about your list?"

Eden shrugs half-heartedly. "I guess. I know you came with me for a reason but I'd prefer to keep that stuff to myself until it's time to talk about each item."

He hums in understanding. "Alright, I'll refrain from bringing it up then. Are you sure you're alright?"

She nods, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, and a shadow of doubt tinges his features. "I promise. I just want to keep driving now, we have a lot of time to make up for."

Harry finally sits back in his seat and the tense air dissipates from the car. He buckles his seatbelt as Eden unclenches the muscles in her toes and lets out the breath she wasn't aware she was holding on to. "What about your tattoo?"

"There are plenty of shops in New York. If we make good time, we can find a walk-in place and go from there. I wasn't planning on getting a huge one anyhow."

She pulls out of the laundromat's parking lot while Harry fiddles with the radio, eventually settling on a channel playing the Rolling Stones. "Can I ask what you were thinking of getting?"

She bites her lower lip, splitting her concentration between merging onto the highway unscathed and answering his question. "I really don't know. Maybe some meaningful words or lyrics. One of my . . . well, my only friend recently got a moon tattoo that was really pretty."