Angel Eyed (DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE)

twenty five

“Well--” I was about to bicker when he grabbed my hand, pulling me onto my feet and catching me off guard. Before I knew it he was pushing the doors open, and yet again I was back into the blizzard that was the inside of seven eleven. I still couldn't wrap my head around how Caleb could just stand in front of the a.c when it was blowing off negative fifteen degrees.

I hold onto Harry for dear life and hide my face behind his shoulders as we walked in front of Caleb who was sitting in front of a counter, preoccupied by the light coming from his phone. As soon as we approached the chilled-beverages area, Harry released my hand and I stand far off into the side, dreading the idea of even colder air blowing on my face. He swings the fridge door open, grabbing a box of four beer-bottles, and hugging it with one arm. “Was this what you wanted?” He looks at me, as he closed the fridge back.

“Anything could do really.”

His eyebrows furrowed again as his gaze remained on me like I did something ridiculous, confusion eating me alive. “You haven't drunk alcohol before, have you?” He quipped, obviously suppressing a smile while standing still in front of the clear fridge.

“I have!” I defended, “Just not beer.”

“What then?”

I huffed, folding my arms below my chest. “It's a Korean drink? Kind of like gin, and sake? I drank it a while back so I don’t really--”

“Why?” He interrupts, genuine sincerity written across his visage and I feel the mood shift back to black.

“What?”

“There must be some reason you want to get wasted, isn't there?” He shrugged. “Like, I’m not an idiot, Cassandra, I know when people have problems. And I know you do.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Well I feel the need to.” He disclosed sternly, stepping towards me, the weight of his eyes on my face tightening the knot in my stomach. “You wouldn't be just sitting on a sidewalk at one forty seven in the morning like you lost the lottery if you don't.”

I took deep breath, momentarily closing my eyes to take a short break from the afflictions just cramming up my head. I wanted to break free from keeping everything to myself for once, even though I would literally do everything but tell my biology teacher at a seven eleven that I fucked up with all the things I have in my life. It used to be nothing. It used to be nothing keeping my problems to myself, considering I've been doing it since elementary days, but lately I feel like constantly exploding every time I would remember my bestfriend fucking hates my guts and I can't do anything about it that wouldn't make it into a bigger conflict. Almost like when I was in sixth grade having an blood feud with the girls in my school. And besides, it wasn't like he would understand. Even if he did, what then?

Do I just seek emotional support from a high school teacher? How low could I get?

Harry steps closer, catching me off guard, eyes staring straight into my soul and everything. I distance myself away in reflex, my back slamming against the metal shelves behind me, pain shooting up my spine. “Jesus, are you alright!?” His eyes widen, grasping my wrist before I could crash the shelf completely.

“Yes, yes - Can we just leave? it’s fucking cold in here.” I shivered, spreading the hem of my flannel over my stomach.

“Hold on, what was that Korean drink you had?” He turns on his heel, inspecting the line of chillers displayed in front of us.

“We already have beer--”

“No, No, I want to try it.” He says, narrowing his eyes as he scanned through the contents of the fridges, tapping his index finger on his chin. “I heard they have a high tolerance for liquor.”