❝ I WAS A FOOL BACK THEN,
TAKE ME BACK TO YOUR ATOMS. ❞
'THE SOCIETY' NETFLIX ORIGINAL FANFICTION
LOVE TRIANGLE
HARRY BINGHAM VS. CLARK
RATINGS
#1 on 'KELLY ALDRICH'
#1 on 'CASSANDRA PRESSMAN'
...
CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 🥀 EPISODE THREE fate , fools and (bad) best friends
• • •
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JULY 28 . ' SUMMER ' — 12 : 31
A funny thing about love, that Harry Bingham has learned, it hurts a lot. For such a word with such gravity, held down by (mis)conceptions about soulmates and fairytales, prince charmings and the lovely princess that they were meant to be with, it truly was, to Harry Bingham, a fucking shit show.
Take his mother for example, Kelly Aldric had stormed into his room, ransacked his mother's drawers and proved to him a theory he longer thought held any significance. A theory that claimed his mother's relationship with Kelly's father. Even though her own husband, his father, hadn't even been in the ground for six months. He wasn't one to tell his mother how to grieve but it made him wonder, had it been going on when they were married? Had their family been broken long before their trip? Had he been fed with lies?
Yes, love lies.
And he was absolutely infuriated about how he let himself get caught up in the magic of it, in the forehead kisses and hair ruffling and affectionate nicknames. So blinded by the sweet, sweet smoke of love that he had forgotten that he wasn't her boy. Her, of course being Phoebe Beckett. He never was. Not in the way that he wanted.
The Bingham boy realised this as he looked through the gap in the ajar door of Phoebe's bedroom window, her little figured crawled up against Clark's large athletic frame. He watched as Clark reaches up his fingers and gently traced it along the strands of hair. He clenched his jaw and looked away.
He took a deep breath. He didn't come here for nothing. He wasn't going to endure this torture for nothing. He needed to at least know that she was okay. He slowly pushed the door open and the squeaky noise grabbed the Beecher's boy attention.
"Hey." Harry whispered and gave him a small nod.
Clark slowly unwrapped his arms from Phoebe, carefully not to stir the Beckett girl and sat up.
"I heard what happened." Harry swallowed thickly as his eyes darted to Phoebe. He hated how he wasn't there for her. As soon was word got around to him—well not really to him directly, most people in his shift ignored him completely, but he had heard the did you hear about Jasper Beckett? Apparently he was strangled to death— he took off that stupid hair net, dropped the fucking soup ladle and sprinted off. The consequences of it wouldn't be half as bad as not being there for his best friend. "Is she okay?"
Clark nodded. "Yeah. I think. I don't know," he raked a hand through his already messy hair. "She was pretty shaken up about it."
"Well," Harry clicked his tongue. "Good you were here then." He said with fake amicability.
