blind. | styles (hariana)

LXIX. Play Me a Memory, The Whispers in Your Head

A/N: Hell yeah survived my first week of school! Sorry for not updating yesterday, the weather was shit and literally I felt like I was in a rainforest. So here it is, please vote before ya read, thank you :)

-

~ Ariana ~

               It's been a very difficult couple of days for Harry and I. The wound on my hand still stings every time I move an inch of my fingers, but it's healing surprisingly faster than I expected which I suppose was the only well off news I received.

               As far as I know, Harry never confronted Jace again about his sleazy actions but I know Harry better than that and the Harry I know wouldn't have backed down without a proper fight.

               I don't know what it was about men and their instinct to feel pride; to fight, to seem like the 'bigger man' in every situation. It seemed like most men are willing to do whatever they can to have it run through their veins; to feed their reputations.

                Reputations; I built mine up the moment I stepped onto English soil bearing sun glasses and a walking stick. 'The blind girl', the label I was given the first second anyone laid eyes on me. No conversation was needed; no introductions, no second impressions, I was just 'the blind girl'.

               And it's disappointing knowing I will always be known as 'the blind girl'. I'll be never known as 'Ariana, the nice girl from fourth period' or 'Ariana, the girl with a horrible sense of humour' or 'Ariana, the actress'. No, I'll always be 'the blind girl'.

               I would give anything just to have that stupid label stripped from me. It's worst than the voices, because it's the cause of those voices. If I had not been in that accident, if I had not been blinded, maybe I would be living a happier life.

               Not to say I'm not happier now. In fact, I'm the happiest I've been. I have Harry to blame for that. I down say this in spite of him, I love him with every inch of my soul and I don't take a moment of it for granted.

               These labels are what destroyed my self-esteem. Now, labels are what destroyed Harry.

               Harry has never known anything outside of 'the king' or 'the leader', which was his label here in this school. Now he was 'a commoner' a 'nobody', being stripped of his label and position in his- Jace's frat.

               His label was his reputation. Take that away from a man, and you have something that'll definitely need a bit of fixing up, but not too broken that it can't be fixed.

               I don't know what happened between Jace and Harry that night, but something in Jace's words felt like he was warning me about something. What it was, I had no clue, but at that moment when he had burned me I knew their friendship was long gone.

               Something tore them apart, and now the pieces are scattered every which way and I feel like being in the middle of it all, it's my obligation to piece everything together again.

               For the first time in years, Harry was just like me. An exclusion to society; an outcast.

               It brought us closer together, the way I became his journal; filled with his deep thoughts and opinions; that only I could offer him responses. He confided in me, and with every passing moment three cemented walls and metal bearings surrounded our trust, making it stronger than ever.

               I didn't need to see him to know how torn he was about what happened. Sure he'll tell me he's perfectly fine, or that it doesn't matter to him because as long as he and I are happily together, nothing could go wrong, but he makes it seem like he only lost a label; a reputation. He lost so much more than that.