Nameless // h.s. au

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

*Hunter*

"Mr. Sty-," My words cease as I see a lanky, curly haired, glassy eyed Brit leaning against the wall with a crystal tumbler of scotch in his ring clad hand. Probably the same scotch that his lips tasted of that one time.

"Hunter." He speaks, a drunken smile spreads across his pink lips as he nearly drops his drink, "You're here." His voice is soft. Almost like he actually wanted me here instead of actually just needing me to peel him off the floor and make sure he doesn't accidently fall off a bridge in the state he's in.

"Yeah and you're drunk." I state fidgeting with my bag as I try to figure out a way to make this night end differently than the last. I'm barely hanging on as it is, "How much have you had to drink?" My brow furrows and my eyes flick around the room towards the various broken bottles of liquor scattered across the red carpet.

He just stares at me. His eyes flicking across me lazily like he's picking me apart piece by piece.

I sigh and close my eyes hoping that it will all disappear, and I'll be home with Niall sleeping drunkenly in my bed and the smell of cigarette smoke floating off his clothes and comforting me into this needed state of unconsciousness.

But when I open my eyes all that is left is the sting of running makeup and the phantom feeling of stray tears running down my cheeks.

"Come on Harry get up, let's get you home." I say quietly as I step towards him.

"Have you been crying?" His dark brow furrows.

"No." I reach down to help him up, hooking an arm under his to try and help him to his feet. My hand reaches out to the nearly empty crystal tumbler, feeling the cold of the glass against my nervously sweating palms, as place it down on his desk.

"Yes you have. Your eyes are red and your makeup is messy." His long fingers reach up to gently touch my cheek.

I look around the room and sigh. Broken liquor bottles and red carpets now stained and it's all too much as the hum of the annoyingly loud radiator fills my ears.

"Hunter?" He coos.

"Harry please just stop talking." My voice is hoarse and tired and my movements are slow with his body leaned up against mine.

"Are we going back to your place?" He asks, glassy eyes staring me down as I just try to maneuver his large body out the door, which isn't going well.

"Do you want me to take you to mine?" Mistake.

"Yes."

"A-alright." Mistake.

So many fucking mistakes.

*****

His eyes are shut. He looks like a little boy again. His brow is relaxed as his lashes are fanned out across his cheeks. The only way I know he's awake is the constant tracing of his fingers over the back of my hand as we sit side by side on the nearly empty subway car as the clock in my head ticks slowly.

"Hunter?"

"Yes Harry?"

"Are we there yet?" He slurs quietly with a small line between his brows, green blood shot eyes blinking slowly at me as he opens them.