Drifter | (Harry Styles AU) • COMPLETE

Chapter 70.

[A/N: Read my new Harry Fanfic CANON, I'll be updating it everyday.

Let me know what you think in the comments below.

Anyway ENJOY BECAUSE ITS ALL DOWN HILL FROM HERE.]

Harry's POV

The flight to Italy was hell. Okay, it wasn't as bad as the flight to Greece but it was still bad.

The hit from my hand did nothing for me, making me spend the entire flight feeling like shit, wishing I could just shoot up in the plane's bathroom. I spent most of the nine hours pretending to be asleep so I wouldn't have to talk to Zayn on my right, or Delores on my left.

When the plane finally landed I couldn't have felt more relieved. Now all I had to worry about was finding some place scummy enough to have dealers.

"Are you sure you don't want to..."

"Yes," I say to Zayn, tossing my bag into the cab with Delores,"I'm sure that I don't want to go with you."

"Alright well the meeting is tomorrow at noon, don't over sleep," Zayn says gripping his luggage handle tight looking at me nervously,"I'll see you then, don't do anything stupid."

"Yup, see ya."

I throw myself into the cab feeling beyond exhausted, the lack of circulation in my hand now bothering me after that nine hour flight. I unwrap the ripped t-shirt strand from around my hand to reveal a gash of dry blood, the surrounding skin, red.

"Is this your first time in Italy?"

"I came when I was like ten," I answer dryly.

"You'll love it here. There's so much history and culture," She smiles staring out my window.

"I doubt it."

"What happened?" Delores asks looking down at my wound with the same wide puppy dog eyes Mariano has when he's asking questions. It's like Mariano with a wig...how disturbing.

"I scratched myself," I respond, covering it with my other hand, resting my head on the window.

"Doesn't look like a scratch."

"Well it is okay?" I snap.

God this girl is even more annoying then Elizabeth.

"Did it happen when you were shooting up?" She asks sweetly. I lift my head back up from the window and look into her eyes , shocked by how sure she sounds of herself.

"Excuse me?" I say, playing dumb.

"I know you use," She answers.

"I don't..."I begin to say before she gives me a look, raising her brow at me.

"How?" I ask wondering if it's that obvious.

It doesn't feel like it is, but then again when you begin to feel like you need to use it every day nothing feels obvious, especially when you start to become addicted. That's how it gets you addicted.

"It was obvious," She says slyly,"To me of course, because I use too."

She then pulls up one sleeve of her sweater, revealing clusters of green spots just like mine to prove her statement.

"Did you bring any?" I ask unable to fight the itch I have for it.

"No, I didn't want to risk it at the airport," She says,"But I can get some Z's easily. Cheap too."

"I have money. Money isn't an issue. I don't want any cheap shit," I tell her. I know how much more dangerous heroin can be when it's impure, dealers can throw all kinda of poisonous shit in there just to add an extra gram.