Eucalyptus & Honey |H.S.|

Chapter 12 - Tastes Like Strawberries

This is a ride...buckle up bbys<3

Mitch sat on a chair in the corner of the room, tuning his already tuned guitar as we all waited for Harry's return. He hadn't said a word since Harry left the room.

After Harry had taken the call, Mitch picked up his guitar and headed to the corner of the room he was currently sat in. He hadn't moved since.

There was something in the way Mitch stared after Harry—the clenching of his typically relaxed jaw, the shoulder length hair curtaining his face, the obsessive tuning of his guitar—that put me on edge. I didn't understand what was bothering him so much. Unless he knew about whatever Harry was involved in. Which was likely, considering their closeness.

I studied Mitch during those fifteen minutes, staying equally as silent as I sipped my coffee on one of the couches that faced him. None of the others seemed to notice my observations or Mitch's sudden silence as they continued their own conversations.

However, it had been about fifteen minutes since Harry left the room, and the conversation was beginning to die down.

Before the silence could become too oppressive, Charlotte rested her head back against the couch cushion and groaned loudly. "For fuck's sake, where's Harry? We were supposed to start twenty minutes ago."

My attention shifted to her when she spoke, but I said nothing. I was hoping Mitch would speak up, possibly giving a hint as to who he was on the phone with, and I wasn't disappointed when his voice grumbled from his spot in the corner. "Who fucking knows. He's on the phone with her, so it could be—"

The sound of the door opening cut off Mitch's angered words, leaving me with limited answers. But at least I had something, which narrowed it down to about half of the fucking population.

Before I could begin wracking my brain about who she could be, Harry spoke as he shut the door behind him. "What the fuck have you all been doing while I was gone?" he asked, voice filled with irritation. He wasn't speaking particularly loudly, but the lowness of his voice almost made him more intimidating.

Well, as intimidating as a man in a blue sweater with a duck and the words, 'mon petit,' on it could be. Which, apparently, was pretty intimidating.

"Waiting for you, mate," replied Sarah, a firmness present in her voice.

He scanned his narrowed eyes over everyone, until they landed on me. His jaw clenched, all of the warmth that had been in his eyes not twenty minutes ago—gone. He held my gaze for a few moments, seeming to be having an internal debate with himself. However, he must've decided not to say whatever he was thinking, because he spoke again, addressing everyone in the room, but eyes never leaving my own. "You need me to fuckin' spell it out for you? Get the fuck off your lazy asses so we can practice. I'm not in the mood for this shit."

"Clearly," I said, under my breath, but I was sure everyone could hear me when Ny coughed to cover a laugh, and Harry's gaze turned, somehow, even angrier.

He ignored my comment, however, because Mitch spoke up. "Jesus, what the fuck did she say to you this time?"

Harry's glare shifted from me to Mitch, and it seemed that we had a talent to piss him off more than anyone else could. He chose not to respond to Mitch, either. Instead, he grabbed his guitar and walked into the recording studio, not looking back to see if any of us followed.

As Sarah walked by, she stopped in front of me for a moment, saying, "Just ignore him, Stevie. He gets like this sometimes, it's nothing personal."

I plastered a tight-lipped smile on my face, nodding in understanding. She gave me a genuine smile in return, and it made me feel a little better. Before she could enter the studio with the rest who were already in there setting up their stuff, I stopped her. "Uhm...what was Mitch talking about? Who was Harry talking to?"