Chapter Eighteen

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Chapter Eighteen

*Hunter*

"Niall what the fuck are you doing?" Reina yells.

"Yeah man you need to stop." Louis interjects.

"No. He's right." I speak up, "You don't have to pick up the pieces anymore Horan. You're off the hook."

The hurt turns to anger as I stand there, thinking about everything falling apart this quickly. The best part is- I can't stop any of it... not my mother dying of god knows what. Or my boss being... him. Or my sister being self- absorbed and all alone. Or just being me... I can't stop being me. Even if I'm dead, I'm still dead as me.

My feet pad towards the kitchen, opening the fridge and grasping the neck of the half drained bottle of vodka. Grey Goose. The semi-good one. A swig just isn't enough.

The living room is a mess as Niall yells and Reina yells and Louis- well- Louis sasses but that's normal.

My room is quiet but Harry is sitting there on the end of my bed with his head in his hands.

"Sorry. There was a problem... but it's fixed now." I vaguely state as I fidget with my hands around the neck of the bottle and try not to listen to the shit show that the door is separating us from.

"I heard." He mutters, "Are you alright?"

And I just nod because there's nothing else to say.

"Want to talk about it?" His question somewhat catches me off guard as the man I usually see who fucks my coworkers and berates me sits here asking to be my pseudo therapist while my life becomes a soap opera.

Plus, it's like one of those old soap operas where characters come back from the dead and babies get switched and shit that you never thought would happen just goes boom... or something like that...

"Hunter?" And then he's standing in front of me with his green eyes and his brown curls and those hands that seem to have a thousand rings but really have like three.

Another drink.

"What?"

"Wanna talk about it..." A finger points towards the door.

"No. It's fine." I force a smile at him and down a mouthful of vodka that bites my throat as it sets in.

And he just nods because he knows there's nothing left to say.

It's not like he would want to know anyway. It's just a moment, just a second where Harry is here and Mr. Styles isn't, a flash where he cares, truly cares. But it's only that- a moment.

My eyes wander from his, grasping at straws as I try to keep my composure along with my sanity. And trust me both are fleeting fast as I stare at this man with long legs and broad shoulders and green eyes that every time I stare into them have a different effect on me.

"Kiss me." The words leave my lips unintentionally.

"What?"

"Kiss me." Mistake.

"Hunter."

"Harry Jesus Christ you've tried to get into my pants since I met you." I exclaim, a light laugh pouring through my lips, "You know what forget it I-,"

His body brushes past mine as he walks towards the door. My heart thumps wildly in my chest like I've been shot. No, fuck, I shot myself I just killed any shred of dignity I have.

Nameless // h.s. auWhere stories live. Discover now