#( and every attempt at defending myself i make is met with complete and total gaslighting ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

newyorkbaby · 7 years

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@fondleeds here u go

Something settles in the pit of Harry's stomach; nerves and fear are washed away by that undeniable feeling of home, of yes, and she can feel every cell in her body buzz with electricity as she brings her hands up to gently touch Lou's jaw. She places one hand on each side of Lou's face, and hazy green eyes lock with vibrant blue just briefly before closing. She surges forward and kisses Lou.

It's just a press of dry lips, just a shift of skin and a change in the arrangement of two beings in space, but it feels like time is suspended. Lou is frozen, completely rigid under Harry's lips and hands. Harry briefly wonders if time really has stopped, if her mind is moving faster than what is actually happening, if she's dreaming.

She's not dreaming, she realizes, when Lou's tight grip on her waist slackens infinitesimally.

Harry takes it as a sign. Eureka! Lou finally realizes - she realizes how Harry feels, and she likes her back! Her lips press a fraction harder, her tongue pokes at the seam of Lou's lips as they start to relax. Her heart hammers away in her chest, propelling her thoughts as they spiral away into maybe and yes and finally and Louise-

The whole exchange lasts for what must be fractions of a second, and it ends even faster.

Lou jerks back, as if burned.

Harry's eyes flash open, confused yet determined, and she barely has time to react when she sees Lou's fist pulled back in striking position.

In the seconds before fist meets face, Harry sees the tinge of pink dusted over Lou's face, making her seem more delicate than she has in the entire time Harry's known her.

In the seconds after she's hit, Harry only sees black.

Niall has a bag of frozen peas pressed to Harry's face.

It's not the most annoying thing Harry's ever dealt with, but it isn't pleasant either. Even less so is the way he's worrying his lip between his teeth, eyes pooled with the words he's too afraid to say.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Harry deadpans.

"Fuck if it isn't," Zayn says from the yard. He hasn't stopped fuming since Harry came crawling home, tail between her legs. Blades of grass are bent out of shape in the yard, revealing the circuit he's been pacing. "I'm going to kill her."

"I'm fine," Harry replies, slightly more confident. She catches Niall roll his eyes before worry overtakes his features once more.

"What exactly brought this on? Not that there's any excuse," Zayn grumbles, "but this is too much, even for her."

"It's not too much," Harry sighs. "I deserved it."

Niall scoffs beside her. "Fuck off, Haz. You deserved it? Biggest load of shite I've ever heard come out of yer mouth."

"What kind of gaslight bullshit is this? You deserved it? In what universe?" Zayn has stopped in place, halting his assault on the topsoil. His arms are crossed across his chest, giving him the appearance of a child mid-tantrum.

"Well," Harry huffs, grabbing the bag of peas from Niall and pulling them into her lap, "I kind of..."

"You kind of what," Niall presses after a moment of silence. His fingers twitch in the direction of the gash over Harry's eye, where the skin had busted, bled, and dried.

Harry looks at the cracks in the wood of the front porch, adjusting her position on the steps so that her knees are pulled up.

"I kissed her."

The words hang around them, stuck in the fog that's been lingering all over town for days. Harry doesn't risk looking up, but she can imagine the way Zayn's brows shoot up, the way Niall's mouth hangs open. Rather than confirming her imagination, she picks at her peeling nail varnish, causing little black flecks to fall like snow.

A car passes; Harry glances up to catch Mrs. Hanson's pearl blue sedan cruising down the street towards her house. It's enough to break the silence.

"You what?" Zayn asks, incredulously.

Harry doesn't reply, opting instead to move the bag of peas from her lap and set them down, quite emphatically, on the porch.

"Lou? The same girl who's been giving you shit since the day you moved here? The same girl who's done everything in her power to make your life a nightmare for the past ten years?"

"One and the same," Harry answers, voice laden with irritation.

"Is she even... y'know?" Niall asks gently, attempting to conceal his shock. Is she gay, is what he means to ask. The fact that he can't even say it makes something in Harry's stomach twist uncomfortably.

Harry is suddenly swamped by the overwhelming feeling of utter stupidity. Of course it sounds fucking outrageous. Of course Zayn would be completely mystified. Of course Niall would be treating this in the same regard one might treat a ticking time bomb. Harry hasn't even really come out to anyone, aside from a few comments here and there about girls she thought were pretty, or her total lack of interest in boys.

More than that, Harry doesn't even know if Lou is into girls or not. If anything, the blood stains on Harry's shirt suggest the opposite.

Harry's eyes start to burn. Why the fuck did she kiss Lou, anyway? What could have possibly led her to think that it would ever be alright?

She stares at the ground resolutely, focusing on holding back every tear that threatens to spill.

I kissed her, Harry thinks, and she pushed me away just like I knew she would.

"Hey," Niall says, pulling Harry out of her own head. "Look at me."

Harry looks over at a blurry image of Niall and feels his hand spread gently across her cheek. His warmth is seeping into her face, making her cold skin and bones tingle. The pressure change causes a few tears to escape, allowing more to well up in their place.

Before she can stop it, the tears are freely falling. She's aware of Niall pulling her into a tight hug, and soon after she can feel Zayn crouching down and hugging her from behind. She's pressed between her two best friends, shoulders shaking, voice breaking as she tries to apologize.

"It's alright, love," she hears Zayn whisper in her ear, barely audible above her own sobs. "We've got you."

Niall's hands rub over her arms, taming the goosebumps that dot Harry's skin as the sun begins to sink. Harry lets go, allows the warmth and sadness to overtake her, just for a little while.

When the tears have dried and the sun is gone and they've all moved inside to burrow under the quilts that accent Harry's shitty couches, she finally gives in.

"I've known for a while, I guess," Harry says. Niall, like the most faithful of golden retrievers, is pressed against her side. His fingers pull on her springy curls gently as he listens. "I know it doesn't make any sense."

"No," Zayn says from his spot on the recliner. "It does. You're not the first person to want someone who isn't right for you. You're certainly not the first person to want someone you can't have."

"It's just hard to imagine," Niall adds. "She's been a complete terror."

"I know," Harry answers. Her hands are wrapped around a mug of shitty instant coffee; it tastes disgusting, but it's keeping her warm. "I didn't want to believe it myself. It's just," she pauses, "hard to explain."

"You know you can always come to us," Niall says, as if it's a question.

"I know."

"Okay. Well. What are we going to do about it?"

"More importantly," Zayn pipes in, "what are we going to do about that?" He gestures towards the crusty scab over Harry's left eye.

"We're not going to do anything," Harry says. "It doesn't matter. Lou wants nothing to do with me. I shouldn't have kissed her. I just want to forget it ever happened and move on."

"What about school?" Niall asks. "We've still got six months until we graduate."

"Avoid her," Harry answers around another mouthful of bitter warmth. Her instant coffee's down to the dregs, leaving specks of coffee beans on her tongue. "We only have one class together anymore, and it's not as if we ever talk during biology. I'll stop going to the diner on the weekends, and it's not like Lou would ever be caught dead in a book store."

Zayn snorts. "Does she even know how to read?"

"Doubtful," Niall laughs. Harry allows one corner of her mouth to lift and fights down the unexplainable need to defend someone who's just knocked her out mere hours ago.

"See? It won't be a problem," Harry says with an air of finality.

Niall stops toying with Harry's curls and moved to lace his fingers with hers. Harry looks over and, once again, is met with his sincere look of concern.

"What if she tells people? What if she comes after you?"

It's not that Harry hadn't considered it. Louise could easily tell everyone they know. It's a small town, not exactly known for it's friendliness towards people who are different. When Zayn's family had moved here, it took years for most people to let their prejudice fall away and begin to include them as part of the community. Even still, some of the more rigid people in town had tendencies to ignore the Maliks completely.

Regardless, Harry isn't inclined to believe that Louise would ever tell. Harry vaguely remembers taunts from years ago, when Lou first started wearing her hair short for football. Check out the dyke bitch, Harry had once heard a boy in their grade yell from the sidelines, a quiet blend of panic and disgust building up in her throat. Fortunately, the taste had been washed down with the thrilling terror of watching Lou tackle the boy to the ground and hitting him until he cried.

No, Harry doesn't believe that Lou will tell anyone what happened. Coming after her, though, is a different story.

"Let's just cross that bridge when we get there, yeah?" Harry asks hopefully. "Like I said, I don't think she's in any rush to see me."

Niall nods. Zayn holds his tongue, which is about as much as Harry could hope for.

"Either way, y'know we're here for you no matter what happens, yeah?"

"Thanks, Nialler." Harry presses hard against him as Niall tightens his grip on her hand.

"Anyway, if you think we've finally stopped the blood and tears, I need to be off," Niall says, pushing himself up on his feet. "Mum's likely wonderin' where I've gone off to. Not like me t'miss a meal."

Harry laughs, "all right," and hugs him goodbye.

"Call me if anything comes up," he says as he walks over to Zayn's chair and pulls him up into a hug.

"Get on, you big oaf," Zayn says with mock disgust. He's rewarded with a wet-sounding kiss on the cheek.

"I'll see you both tomorrow," Niall says, and he's out the door.

After she hears Niall's car start up and drive off, Harry stretches out on the sofa. She notices Zayn still standing, close enough to the recliner that he might sit back down but close enough to the door that he might leave.

"Stay," Harry says without hesitation.

Zayn looks briefly as if he might argue, but ends up moving towards the sofa and settling himself under Harry's legs all the same.

They spend a few hours watching television, letting the digital noise fill the space between them. Zayn absently rubs his thumbs over Harry's ankles every now and again, almost as if reminding her that he's still there.

"You should get a cat," he says eventually.

Harry yawns. "I don't need a cat."

"You're lonely," Zayn says over the sound of some supermarket jingle. His voice implies that he wants to discuss it further, that he's worried.

"I've got you," Harry replies, choosing not to take the bait. "You're basically a cat."

That, at least, pulls a smile out of Zayn. "We're getting you a cat."

"We'll see," Harry says.

They eventually go to bed when Zayn complains of his neck hurting. He falls asleep first, his back to Harry. The moonlight makes his ratty t-shirt glow, and illuminates his silvery strands of hair.

Harry finds herself thinking that maybe Zayn is full of moonlight. Maybe, instead of blood, moonlight runs through his veins and fuels his beating heart. Maybe, at night, he soaks up energy from the moon through the whiskers that dust his chin. That's why his eyes are so silvery and full every morning when he wakes.

As sleep takes her, Harry distantly wonders if there's anything special inside of her.

Sunday passes quickly, with Harry, Zayn and Niall driving around in Niall's car. The three of them sing along to a throwback playlist loaded with 90's hip hop and rock power ballads.

Come Monday morning, Harry's nerves regarding Saturday's altercation of completely dissipated.

Unfortunately, they come back full force halfway through the day, when Harry finds herself standing outside of the biology classroom.

As luck would have it, her usual lab partner, Perrie, was absent from their shared English class earlier in the day. Additionally, Lou's usual lab partner, Emma, was missing as well.

Harry walks into the classroom with the following scenario playing out in her mind: Mrs. Ingles notices that Harry and Lou are both without partners, they end up having to work with each other, and Lou inevitably murders Harry with the nearest available object (a pencil? a scalpel? perhaps a butterfly net?).

When Harry takes her seat and the bell rings for class to start, Mrs. Ingles calls everyone to attention.

"It seems," she bellows in most dramatic fashion, "that a number of your peers have decided to take a conveniently-timed leave of absence from school today."

Harry looks around the classroom and notices that more than just Perrie and Emma are absent. In fact, almost all of the girls from the class are gone. Harry only counts herself, Eleanor, and Lou, though she's careful to only glance in Lou's general area as she takes inventory.

"Be that as it may," Mrs. Ingles continues, "we will still continue on with dissection. If your partner is absent, find someone else. If there are any problems, please see me."

Oh. Dissection. That explains the absences.

Harry stands up from her seat, as does the rest of the class, and the scramble to find a partner begins. Most of the boys have no problems pairing up, after the brief fight over working with Eleanor is won by Max. Harry sees her options dwindling as the seconds roll by, and she's briefly filled with terror when her eyes meet with Lou's, who is also still partner-less and looking nearly as scared as Harry feels.

Fortunately, Harry's life is not a teen movie, and Liam Payne tugs on her arm just as she's swallowing the dry lump in her throat.

"You wanna work with me?" Harry tears her eyes away from Lou's to find Liam's handsome grin.

"Sure," she nods, instantly breaking out in a smile. She could kiss his expensive-looking shoes, could drown them both in the relief that floods out of her.

Liam laughs loudly, presumably at the look of maniac relief on Harry's face, and pulls her towards his side of the room. Harry doesn't mean to look back as she's picking up her things and moving to Liam's bench, but she has a bad habit of doing things she doesn't mean to do.

All she sees is Lou, staring out the window with a barely-contained grimace on her face. For a moment, Harry wonders if Lou actually wanted to work with her. One of her teammates is moving towards her, though, and the idea of Lou actually wanting to be near Harry is ridiculous, especially after what happened, so Harry forgets about it and moves on.

Biology passes faster than she could have dreamed, and by the time the final bell for school rings, Harry's on her way home, safe and sound.

Zayn and Niall are both busy on Mondays, so Harry decides to use her alone time catching up on household chores.

Dressed in her grungiest flannel shirt and holey leggings, she spends a few hours scrubbing down the bathroom and sweeping the floors. It's the most cathartic thing she's done in ages, blasting music and swinging her hips as she stretches to dust off surfaces that haven't been touched in months.

As the sun starts to set, Harry realizes she has absolutely nothing in the fridge or the pantry, and makes the executive decision to spend the remains of her last paycheck on groceries. She leaves her hair, as frazzled as it must be, held back by a ragged bandana and doesn't bother changing out of her cleaning clothes. She grabs her keys, locks up and starts walking.

The store is basically empty when she arrives, save the usual gang of cashiers who are huddled up and chattering away at the checkout. Harry grabs a basket and meanders through the aisles, humming along to the adult contemporary tunes that play over the store's sound system.

She grabs a few of her usual staples (cereal, bread, cheese) and adds in a couple of splurge items (eyeliner, organic carrots, strawberry milk) just because. She stocks up on a few household necessities while answering a text about a homework assignment from Liam, and is on her way to checkout when she remembers that she's dangerously low on tampons.

She darts back towards the health and beauty section of the store, finding her way to the back wall where pink, purple and green boxes line the shelves. Harry finds her brand, tosses them in her basket and turns to head back towards checkout.

She collides with something solid, nearly sending herself and said object to the floor.

Harry's eyes widen, because of course it's Louise.

Harry's life is a bit more like a teen movie than she thought.

"What the fuck," Louise exclaims, shoving hard at Harry's shoulder as they both right themselves. Harry stumbles further back, allowing a wide gap of space to open up between them.

"Sorry," Harry mumbles. She tightens her hold on her basket and starts walking away, already feeling her cheeks start to heat up. This is so typical. Before she can escape, she feels a tight grip on her elbow, keeping her in place.

"Why don't you watch where the fuck you're going?" Louise hisses, taking a step closer. Harry feels her frustration building, mixing with the surprise and humiliation that have already coated her insides.

"I just said I was sorry," Harry replies, her voice only slightly raised.

"Bullshit," Louise spits. "You following me, now?"

"I didn't even know you were here," Harry answers. She tries to pull away from Lou's hold.

"Sure, Harriet," Louise says, pushing even closer. Harry feels her back meet a wall, but it's somewhat of a distant feeling. Every nerve in her body seems to be focused on the way Lou's fingers dig into her arm hard enough to keep her in place, but not hard enough to hurt.

"Nobody's called me that since primary." Harry's anger is slowly bleeding out between them, being replaced by something much scarier, something she'd rather not think on. Instead of trying to name it, she focuses on the way Lou's brilliant blue eyes are shining brighter than should be possible, despite the heavy grimace on her face.

When Lou doesn't reply after a healthy number of ticks, only breathing in the space between them (when did that space get so small?) and keeping her fingers in place on Harry's arm, Harry dips her head forward.

Lou's eyes follow Harry's movement, her wiry eyelashes fanning out across her cheeks as Harry brings her face level with Louise's. A pale pink blooms under her skin, and her scowl softens until it's gone, leaving a look of hesitant surprise.

Harry keeps her voice as level as possible when she speaks.

"Now, could you please let me go?"

#tw for physical violence homophobia and internalized homophobia #i wrote this in jan. 2016????#and never touched it again #it's kinda interesting tho omfg #i wish i had motivation to like... finish things

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