blind. | styles (hariana)

LXII. Talking About My Girl

A/N: Probably really horrible because I have writers block which is never a good thing. Still hope you like it though, please vote :)

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~ Ariana ~

               My inner turmoil was starting to boil up once again as I laid quietly in bed, feeling absolutely defenseless as Jace fired insult after insult after insult.

               I only wished my only line of defense, that being Hunter, was here. Jace barely spoke to me unless we were alone, otherwise he was forced to like that one time he asked me to give his latest girl a shirt to wear when she left.

               I wanted to go to my place of sanctity, as I felt like I haven't been in touch with myself lately. I felt like I was constantly surrounded by people; people I loved, people I hated, but I never felt the need to just be alone in so long.

               I used to appreciate being invisible because it drew me away from any necessary drama and gave me peace. Sure there were nasty comments being thrown at me every once in a while, but other than that I was pretty much irrelevant.

               That didn't mean I didn't want to matter. I want to matter, and I'm sure I do to Harry. I wish I was with him right now, but he's busy developing his photos for his photography assignment.

               I had an Art ID to go with him, but I figured that wasn't the best option given our current situation, plus I was tired from today's activities.

               So here I am now, spending my Saturday night indoors with Jace as my unfortunate company. "Will you just shut up?" I muttered, crossing my arms. "I'm really tired of you Jace."

               "I'm just telling you the truth." He said, the same answer he's given me every time I'd tell him to be quiet. I shook my head and turned onto my side.

               "Whatever, I'm leaving. The boys are gonna fuck with the new teacher's cars and I have to see this." He snickered as I scoffed. "I don't care."

               "I didn't expect you to." he chuckled. "See you." he mused, and I could tell from his tone he was taunting me, knowing I couldn't very well 'see him' too.

               Once he left I sighed in relief.

               There was no doubt in my heart that I had this scorning passion of annoyance towards Jace. I wish I hated him for all my worth, but 'hate' is a very strong word and by Jace's character; how he acts, how he reacts, what he says, I feel like Jace is just another lost soul.

               I've witness him doing good.

               Like the time he called his mum and excitedly told her he'd done well on his assessments last semester and how he was doing it all for her, or the time he belted 'I Will Always Love You' in our room shamelessly.

               The things I come by just by hiding away in the washroom.

               But these little things don't change how I feel about Jace. I don't like him, at all. And I wish with every fibre of my body that I could magically wake up next to Harry every morning, just like before.

               I grinned, thinking about him. I imagined how frustrated he must be in that dark room right now, trying to develop all the pictures perfectly.

               I wasn't too educated in the skill of photography but I did know that developing photos is a pain in the ass and takes years just to get one to come out perfectly. I'd read about it once in one of my Braille books; it takes about half an hour just for one photo, and that's just for amateurs.