Two Ghosts // h.s

CH. 10

I froze and internally groaned. Fuck. I turn to face him, something I haven't been doing but maybe doing it now could throw him off his confrontation on me about avoiding him.

"What are you talking about?" I force out, crossing my arms. He's still sitting, staring up at me casually like he didn't just ask the most awkward question.

The corners of his mouth tilt slightly upwards. "You've been avoiding me today, yesterday. Ever since the beach. And I want to know why."

"No one has been avoiding anyone." I lie. "Nothing has changed. We're not friends so I don't have to speak to you-"

"There it is!" He moves himself up a little. "We took a couple of steps forward and you try to run backwards."

"I didn't move at all!" I defended myself.

"Fine line, Sophia. We moved to the fine line, you opened up the tiniest bit but it was something. And I'm assuming you realized that on the beach."

It's like I'm made of glass. I felt myself get even more defensive. "And I don't do that! I don't move forward-" I let out, he was right. "I should never have done that!"

"And what's so wrong with that? " He asks right away.

"That!" I point at him. "It's questions like that. Questions that give too much information are all that you-" I'm cut off by the arrival of Jeff and Adam. They didn't seem to pick up on the almost-argument Harry and I were having by the look of their smiles. I composed myself by fixing myself another drink to cool off.

"Cheers," Harry stood up and had his drink in his hand. I looked up to him and back down at his drink and I raised my drink to him. We downed the drinks and I think this meant, from him, we forget about the conversation we just had and hopefully he'll just accept what I was doing.

We sat there for a while, watching the dancing and drinking a little bit more. I was definitely feeling drunk, not too drunk, but drunk nonetheless. Jeff was gone, I don't think he'll remember much tomorrow. Harry was getting more and more drunk by the minute and it was somewhat entertaining to watch from a distance. It almost tempted me to go against my intellect and talk to him, missing how much fun our conversations could be. It was the alcohol, it's starting to get to me, and this belief was solidified when I was starting to think about how I regretted my distance vow on Harry because life was so much more fun before it. I tried to think about how sure, it was fun, but it was also invasive, more invasive than anyone had ever been before and I did not like it. I decided I had enough and I needed to dance again. I got up on my own and walked off. I was fine with dancing alone.

The liquor didn't help much in my coordination so I almost tripped a couple of times but I was able to keep myself up. I was alone for maybe 10 minutes when I started to jump to a song and I nearly fell until I felt hands grab me from my torso and set me straight again. Strong hands. Strong but soft hands. Hands that caused my skin to burn and my stomach to flutter. His hands. I turned around, looking up at him. His hands lingered for what felt like hours and I allowed it. I couldn't bring myself to stop. I wanted to take in the feeling for the first time completely. I wanted to drown in it. I hated it but I did. And I was drunk and he was drunk and chances are he wouldn't remember this. I wasn't doing any damage to him, I could let this happen and he wouldn't remember and I could go back to being distant without a second thought. But would I be damaging myself? I would remember this...

I look away from him, knowing this wasn't smart. He needed to take his hands off now. I needed to tell him too. But what he did instead made me lose all sense, once again. He moved his hands down my torso to my hips. It was almost like a grip now. My whole body was burning up at this point. I looked up at him again, a desperate but questioning look in my eyes, wondering what he was doing. He looked at me with almost longing. It was all on me. I'm telling him what to do. It felt like all sounds around me were muffled out, like they didn't exist. Like the fucking scene in pride and prejudice when they're dancing. That's what pulls me out. This isn't a movie and standing here, with his hands on me, will lead to consequences. I start to move away, lowering my head, and his hands start to loosen until they're completely off. I regretted it, I missed his hands there, and the regret scared me. What is going on with me? I looked back up to him, not able to come up with the words, trying to say that I needed to go. I struggled for a second but looking at him was just making the regret grow. I turned and walked away, not being able to take it. I found myself back at the table. It was empty and I drank. I drank because I needed to cool off and because I wanted to cloud my brain, forget what just happened and how I felt. How I so desperately wanted him to find me again and grab me the same way. There was a small, very, very dark thought in the furthest part of my head that wanted to drink more so I could go back to him and do things I would never do sober but forget that it all happened the next day. That was a very dark thought. I looked at the bottle of tequila, what the fuck was this doing to me? I let out a humorless laugh as I poured my next shot, knowing exactly what I was going to do. I drank it quickly, stood there for a second as I processed it, and left.