sign {h.s.}

kapitel vierundzwanzig

n. trigger warning for attempted sexual assault, and a reminder: what you are wearing is NEVER equated to or indicative of consent.

"HOLY HELL, YOU look good," Lana makes no effort to hide how giddy she is as she studies me in the angel costume that Harry had bought for me. Complete with the clapping hands and a couple of bounces up and down, I'm immediately able to recognize that she has started drinking. Something that I would have been able to tell anyway, if not for the stench of vodka coming off of her in radiant waves.

Clad in a devil's costume, the irony is not lost on me. "You look bad," I tease, moving into the apartment as she opens the door wider—Harry hot on my heels. I hadn't invited him explicitly, but I couldn't imagine going without him. Not after he played such an integral role in assuring that I had a costume to wear.

Lana's apprehension of him is not lost on me. A virtual stranger to her, I attempt to ease the tension: "You remember Harry, right?" I sweep an absent hand in his direction, gesturing to the man who is dressed as a lumberjack behind me. For the first time since I've known him, he's not clad in exclusively designer, luxury fashion. He stands instead in a red flannel with jeans on his legs. There's something so perfectly mundane about him in this attire, it's almost jarring. For the first time, he doesn't stand out because of his fashion, but simply because of the fact that he looks good.

In a matter of seconds, the hesitancy melts off of her features. A smile graces her lips. She tilts her head, only just barely, as a form of recognition. "Obviously I remember you," she allows, a flirtatious sway to her hips as she steps in closer to him. A red fingernail drags down his chest, his eyes following the movement with a burning intensity. "You look hot as hell, too."

Harry doesn't verbally answer her; his face remaining stoic. Instead, he offers a solemn bow of his head.

My friend seems to accept this as the best she will get. With that same smile on her face, she ushers us into the apartment to shut the door behind us. For the first time, I realize that music is blasting. There's already a group of people inside; none of whom I recognize. I study them, looking to see whether I recognize any of them. A frown etches into my features as I realize they're all strangers. Lana notices. She waves a dismissive hand, "They're Bea's friends. You can ignore them."

I nod my head as I follow her into the kitchen, away from Bea's friends in the living room.

Once in the kitchen, I start to see two identical girls there. They're in the middle of their own conversation, not seeming to have noticed that Harry and I had entered. It feels impossible to me that someone could have missed our entrance when I feel like we are leaving a flame in our wake with every step. Such is the feeling of Harry's proximity behind me as I make my way through the small apartment.

Only Lana saying my name breaks me from my trance. "Isla and Freya," Lana introduces the twins to me, unnecessarily punctuating her statement with, "They're twins. This is Cassidy and Harry. Take a seat." Lana brushes over the introductions, gesturing for Harry and I to sit at the table that is covered with bottles of alcohol, mixers, and tipped red solo cups.

At the table, there is only one spare seat. Harry doesn't waste a second to slip into it. My jaw drops for a second, about to tease him for how remarkably un-chivalrous his actions were, though, within a second his fingers pat down on the exposed skin of his thigh. His eyes dip there, the implication increasingly apparent.

I think he expects me to fight him on it. I don't.

Instead, I remain smug as I perch down on his lap. Without even turning around, I can tell that he looks equally as smug. Maybe he views me as a prize. Maybe he is gratified that he is breaking through my walls, that I am comfortable enough to collapse down on his lap—especially in a costume that leaves so little to the imagination. The dress on my thighs hitches up, exposing my skin to him.