They met at the wrong time under the wrong circumstances, in a world that was not theirs. They had no choice but to move on from each other.
Five years later, Griffin Walker and Harry Styles meet again. How will it end this time?
LOVE BUILT ON LIE...
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HARRY E. STYLES October, 2014
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Over the years, I made that bench my own. It had my initials in it, I carved it there with my keys one time. It was kind of the most constant thing in my life, something that always reminded me of the fact that I wasn't truly alone.
I know, it's weird.
Thinking of a bench as something important, something that symbolises that I'm not as lonely as I think I am? Yeah. I may be a fucking weirdo. But at least I had my bench.
I spent one too many nights on that thing, drunk and sober. It held all my thoughts through the conversations I've shared with myself and the trees around me. This park is so much calmer than it is during the day. Which is probably because every sane person is sleeping at night and not having a heart to heart with a bench.
This time around, a bottle of Jack Daniels accompanied me. That was the first thing I saw when I went in the shop so that's what I got. I walked and drank until I got to the park, glad to find my bench empty.
Unlike the last time, I now sat there with my head empty. No thoughts. Just the drink, me and the bench. The trees looked bare, the air was crisp cold and it made my bones shiver. Once the mouth of the bottle touched my lips, the familiar taste of the alcohol overtook the control and became the focus of every one of my senses. Under the bench, I locked my ankles into each other, my thighs apart and flat as I rested the bottle on my knee, holding it around the slim top. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes as I felt the liquid flow down its way until it stopped in my stomach.
I was beginning to get warm and feel less of the cold air. The wind still blew my hair around and carried the leaves that fell from the trees. It smelled of rain and snow, a combination which I loved. It was fresh and never ending, it calmed my mind and thoughts.
Movement against the asphalt and the scent of a person I knew too well. I sighed and took another sip of the alcohol to keep my mouth from moving. I didn't want to talk, nevermind argue over something stupid. Keeping silent was my best option, the only option I wanted. Other than being alone, which was already taken from me.
My intruder sat down next to me without a word. That was new. I think I heard her thoughts, all of them asking the same confused questions—why is this so awkward? What should I do? Should I say something? At least that's what ran through my head.
So, I just passed her the bottle. I knew she had a black hole for a stomach and she was pretty much like a sponge. I knew a sip or two wouldn't hurt her but rather, put out her thirst.
And she took it. Of course, she did. I don't know why I expected her to decline. It was stupid of me to assume she wouldn't take it. I should have prepared for her to not give it back. Because she held onto it. At first, I was ready to fight it but then I didn't care. At least she held it for me, which I had to do since I bought the damn bottle.
