Human

Chapter 34: A filler
(Harry's p.o.v.)


After finally falling asleep pissed last night, I had a surprisingly good amount of sleep last night. Although normal I can only go maybe four hours, last night I slept almost all the way through. Maybe I was so worn out with anger that it just put me to sleep, who knows?

But just when I got into a dream for the first time in years, a soft flvijce whispered something into my ear. "Harry... Harry sweetheart, it's time to get up." A soothing and tender voice rubbed my back, causing me to squirm at the touch. "C'mon sleepy head, the sun is shinning and the day is a waiting." She put on a southern accent.

"Get out Paris." I grumbled into my pillow. I was in no mood for childish games.

"How'd you know it was me?" She pouted. Seeing i hadn't even moved and was still able to have control, uplifted my spirits.

So I shifted and lifted myself up to face her. "Only you would try to wake me up with a pathetic southern accent." I smirked and wiped the sleep out of my crusty eyes. "Now what do you want?" Groaning, I laid back down.

"To go on a road trip. Today, just you and me on the road." Paris had a goofy smile. This hunger and passion in her eye. "All things aside for a bit, a fresh road. An unplanned uncharted adventure to wherever."

A road trip? This is done sneaky shit, I bet. "Why?" The idea never really came to me.

"I've always wanted to go on a long road trip to somewhere interesting. A ride with a bit of character and memories made." Paris trailed off a bit.

Normally I'm not one to push things on, but I want to know really why she wants this. "Where is our stopping point, what route?" I crossed my arms, stilling laying in bed.

"I have it all mapped out. There is this nice beach house we have for the night. I already packed lunches and other materials we need. All you have to do is pack a bag of clothes, and get us a car." I smirked, by "get us a car" I knew exactly what she wanted.

The Trip...

Somehow she got me to do it. We've been on the back roads for about ten minutes and she's already glowing. Her smile is huge and beautiful, this trip waking up something inside of her.

The top down on our convertible, hot sun shinning on us. It was a perfect day with a perfect scenery. "So, are you gonna tell me why you wanted this trip all of a sudden?" I snuck a glance at Paris.

"Things back at home are dark and things seem to be rough. Out here it's just you and me. Any problem or issue we have we can work through it out here. We don't have outside influnences. Plus, look around! It's beautiful out here!" Paris laughed and stood up, carefully gripping the window not to fall with the force of the wind.

I safely place one of my hands on her lower back to keep her steedy. "Does that mean we are all good?"
Paris sat back down, messing with her wind blown hair. "Depends... Are you having fun?" I couldn't resists smile. And soon enough her lips were pressed to mine. The passion and fireworks exploding.

"Defiantly." Smirking, I turned my attention back to the road. Placing my hand on Paris's lap so could play with my rings, like a child.

We laughed and jokes for hours until our luch stop finally seemed to be necessary. Paris chose a picnic at lake shortly off the side of the road.

"You know, I'm not that hungry. But I'm feeling kind of hot. Maybe feverish?" I waiting for Paris to feel my forehead. As soon as her delicate hand touched my skin, I snatched her up. Throwing her body up and over my shoulder. Into the water we went. Clothes and all.

"Harry!" She screamed and splashed me. "You-" Paris started again before I leaned in to kiss her lips. She didn't even fight them. But slowly gave in to my control.

"Now what were you saying?" I grinned, knowing it would embarrass her.

"Let's go eat." Paris played it off and dragged me to the picnic blanket she had laid out. Which soon became her personal towel. "Uh, judging by this map... We're not going to make it there tonight. It looks like we have possibly half a day tomorrow if we continue on at this rate." Her words went in one ear and out the other. All I could focus on was Paris. Openingly marveling af her while she tried to brush the state off.

It took us another fifteen minutes of our lunch break before heading back to the car. It was now well passed 3:30 pm and we aren't even beyond the median mark.

On the drive, we carried on with the hood down. Trying to dry off our wet and sticky bodies. Wind and radio so loud we couldn't even hear other cars zooming by us on the winding highway. I felt the need to hold Paris's hand or something. In my mind, this is all fake. She's a great actor just pretending to like me because I'm a lost cause, a charity case. And I keep trying to convince myself it's not true. But sometimes it's just easier to except it, and play along. Other times I can't tell what is actually reality.

"You're having fun, with me, right?" I quick glanced at Paris. "Like you're still okay we me being here, right?" My anxiety was always present.

"Of course! Why? Do you think I don't like you or something?" Paris laughed.

There's the dreaded question. My conscience doubts she actually does while my heart hopes so. So what am I suppose to tell her? I couldn't figure our anything clever, so instead I just laughed it off.

For an extremely hot autumn day, the nights for sure were nothing like summer. The sun started setting earlier and the chilled air set in pretty quick after the sun set. Paris had slowly started drifting off to sleep as the sky turned pink. All her energy had clearly been worn out. I drove a little bit longer in silence until I found a clearing off of a side road. A perfect place to spend the night. The top up, and blankets and pillows lining the back seat, our bed was set. Spooning Paris and falling asleep under the stars was truly grand.

Morning

I awoke to an unusal cold feeling. Whether it was the fact that I was under a single blanket, or that Paris was missing. I shot up, a little too quickly, before realizing the car was moving. "Good morning." Paris chirped from the drivers seat.

"Ah, you too." I was confused and tired, a bad combination. "Why are you...?"

"It started to rain a while back, And I couldn't sleep anymore so I drove to the nearest gas station and filled her up. Also got us some breakfast on the road from the additional diner. It's raining pretty bad now, and we still have a ways to go, so I thought I could drive." I loved the way she refered to my car as a her, like she already knew. "Omelet?" Paris took one hand off the wheel and handed me a to-go box.

Crawling up to the front seat, while still being wrapped in a blanket proved to be a little difficult. "I can drive if you want." I offered and took a seat in the passenger side. Paris denied my offer and insisted I eat. But I smiled, placing a kiss on her cheek. "You're wearing my sweater." Her little frame was hidden in my over sized crew neck.

"It keeps me warm." She defended. "I grabbed our bags from the trunk and this was the first thing I saw of yours." Her grip on the wheel was tight. To the point where her knuckles were turning white. Meaning that driving in This weather wasn't easy, or good.

"First thing of mine? You didn't bring anything for yourself?" My omelet was delicious. Truly a work of culinary art.

"It's warm and cuddly, and smells like you. As weird as that sounds." I just poked her cheek and smiled.

"Let me drive." This time she didn't protest. She just sort of hovered over the seat. Giving me a little space to menauver myself into the seat under her. A very risky move while driving in the rain. But I couldn't say I didn't enjoy it when little Paris plopped down on my lap before struggling over the middle counsel.

"Stop looking at me like that, it's dangerous outside." Paris slapped my arm. But I couldn't help it, the grey color of the wet tinted windows. The water tapping on our metal car. Our journey to nowhere. The fact that we are in a compact place together. The idea that she thinks I'm not the person I am... Wonderfully beautiful with a twisted bit of sadness.

It's like she forgets I'm tattooed and pierced, carved and burned. I'm not the leader of a gang, or the one who has said all the dreaded things to her. She doesn't see the broken and shattered human I am. She skips over the fire and glass, just to see her Harry. Or the Harry she thinks she wants and knows. That's why I hate when people ask me about myself. They Don't really care if they hear the truth, they just want a reality they can cope with. And It scares me to think that you never know what someone is thinking or feeling towards you. The fact that everything they say could be one massive lie. That's why each day I trust less and less.

Being a pluviophile, the sloppy water and peace that comes with it, was perfect. My mind is free from its harsh enclosure. But behind all this rain, there is a sun. And we'll just have to keep driving towards it.
Paris had already fallen asleep, confirming my hunch. She could have slept through the rain, but she didn't want to. This was her time to take control. But now, as she lay restless, I see it. The beauty aside, I see her. Hollow cheeks, red eyelids and nose, white face. Paris had been crying. And it hurts me to think I sat so close while she cried and I didn't do anything to help. I learned at a young age that when a woman cries, she's either very passionate about something, or hurting. And I pray to God, Paris wasn't hurt. Cause I know, more than anybody else, what pain truly is.

About two hours later she awoke. Hair tangled and sleep clear in her face. "Hello beautiful." I smiled down at Paris before she became fully alert. A soft moan escaping her mouth before sitting up and regaining conscienceness.

"Are we almost there?" She yawned and snuggled closer to me.

"I wouldn't know, you have the directions." I teased. Paris seemed a little flustered, clearly jokes were not the best right now. "Are you alright?" She really wasn't herself right now.

"Yeah. I'm just a bit of a mess right now." Paris hastily started to "fix" herself. Adjusting her long ponytail, rubbing her face and eyes.

"You look gorgeous, please stop." I may be a dick and a tattooed asshole... But my mother used to tell me two things. You can never compliment a women enough. And one slip of the words and she's forever broken.

Thinking back at it, she told me a lot how to treat ladies. Probably because she never got the respect she deserved. My father being abussive and greasy. I've always tried to be the exact opposite. My mothers tips being very useful.

"I just don't know about this anymore..." Both her hands concealed her face.

I pulled over at that point. An anxiety attack while driving in the rain isn't exactly ideal. "Tell me." I removed Paris's hands from her face and took them in mine. "What's stressing you out? I'm hear for you." Hugs as a child could fix anything, so I really hoped this was no exception. Her heart was beating so fast, and she felt too warm. "Please just tell me Paris. This isn't good for you." I actually pleaded.

No words were spoken. But a gesture, colliding both hands. And I knew, this was truly a bad post dramatic stress reaction to the roads. "It's okay baby, I've got you." I took Paris in a tight hug, rubbing circles in the back of her head. "You honestly are so warm Paris. You are giving yourself a fever." Believe me when I say I've never taking a first aid or nursing class in my life. "I think you need to cool down in the rain. I'll come out with you." I suggested.

It all makes sense now. My huge sweater keeping her warm with her fever. The white knuckles. Hollowed out checks and puffy eyes. The hunger to drive to prevent another incident.

Surprisingly Paris stripped like I insisted. We both proceeding out of the safety of our car and out into the rain. Paris dressed in her bra and underwear, myself in jeans and white t-shirt. I held her body. Inside I knew she was cold, but on the outside she was radiating heat. Paris seemed limp and stiff while trying to stand by herself. I sat down on the muddy grass, allowing Paris a warm spot to sit and recover. Arms wrapped around her waist, I could monitor her breathing and heart rate. Determining whether or not it was back to normal and we could advance on.

For about ten minutes we sat out in precipitation. I was muddy and gross by then, completely saturated. Paris seemed to be doing better. Her skin feeling almost the same tempature as mine. Returning to the car, we faced a little problem. "Do you want to change?" Unfortunately, being sodden and adorning, would prove the be a huge soppy mess in the back seat.

Paris just let go of me for the moment. The rain droplets purging her of any mud. I tossed her one of my clean shirts to dry herself off. Barely depleted, she slipped back into my sweater and in the safety of my car. I chose to stay in my clothes, water logged and all.

The slow journey countinued. Driving under 50 miles an hour at all times. After what seemed like ages with never ending rain and missed directions, we turned onto a little gravel road surrounded by trees. And all of a sudden the tress stopped, and was replaced by sand. A lone beach house standing on the shore. Equipped with a large wrap around porch,large balcony, fire pit, and a beach side location. "How did you know about this place, again?"

Paris just shrugged and grabbed her duffle. Rain and all, this place was great. Paris, dressed in only her undergarments and my sweater, was the cherry on top. Hopefully there are no lurking neighbors in these trees.

"Isn't it sad that fire and rain will never meet?" Paris sat on the coach, overlooking the open glass wall. The ocean waves cracking with the thunder. Ocean spray drizzling with rain.

"Hmm?" I stopped where I was in the kitchen to give her a look.

"I mean... The fire has to die in order to meet the rain. They can't ever communicate without a death. Isn't that sad?"

I take it that she's mourning over her brothers' death. She's the burning fire. And they are the rain. Grief is not as heavy as guilt, but it takes away more from you.

Paris requested to go to bed. And frankly, without being even her boyfriend, I was in no place to object or interfere. Helping her frail body up the loft stairs and into our shared California king sized bed seemed heart wrenching. Tucking her in the warm blankets, she spoke again. "Why?"

The crashing waves outside the window wall, the memories I have. "Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous possessive love that grabs what it can." (Yann Martel)

Changing to dry clothes and a waterproof shirt, i headed for a walk down the water. Rolling up my jeans I paced. I'm getting so done with this gang. "I want my father dead, is that too much to ask!" I shouted at the sky and continued on. My life has been a struggle, finding Paris was like finding an angle in hell. And I don't know how much more of this I can handle. I act as if I know what to do with Paris, but I don't. This is all me trying to be something she needs. I'm on a route obscure and lonely, haunted by ill angles only. (Edgar Allen Poe)

So many times I've realized what I'm doing is wrong. Someone else is going to be killed, a new distraction will occur, and soon that has become my life. A death circle pulling me into its current until one day it's my turn. I've got to get out of this habit, The vortex. Sucking people in, bringing them down until It finally drowns them. But the worst part is, it just happened. People blown into my range of fire and I try not to hurt them. I try to be a good person...It's only a matter of time before I break someone special like Paris, and I don't want to see the ugly monster I created.

"Harry," Paris tapped my shoulder. "I-"

"Did you ever think about the significants of lightning? It's fire in a bolt, a thousand times stronger. And it hits water, even falls with it too. And yet it still dies off after a mater of seconds. So is it really that sad that fire and water don't meet? Or was is just suppose to be that way?" I spit. "Like some twisted piece of reality." Hit and sunk.

"You've lost tons of people, yet you have the audacity to mock me of a death?" Paris was not gonna have anybody this.

" I had to fight through hell, and fighting through hell has made me who I am." I gritted.

"Well going there is easy, seems like for the longest time I've been making visits." Paris reminded as If she knew.

"Try spending your whole life there. Try watching all of your loved ones get injuried everyday and eventually die, fighting for you. Try living with the guilt that you killed your own friends and family, they gave up their lives so I could live mine. And then not even living the life I'm lucky enough to have. Not even doing anything special with it because I'm in hell. I've always been, and I always will be." Sometimes I think she believes she's the only one who has ever lost someone. Normally I can bite my tounge and hold back, but other times it's just too much for me to stand. "Try watching your life crumble before your eyes, like a brital wall in a hurricane. Get back to me once you lived a life like mine."

And in that moment I think I broke it off. I think that's when I finally came to my senses to make the decision. I'm no longer acting or pretending. And if who I am is an asshole that deserves all this shit, then that's who I'll be.

... And so sat, a large empty and quiet house on the shore, waiting. A couch harnessing a wicked mess. An overlooking bed with a small divot holding the weight of a hurt girl. But that was it. No words, no sobs, no tears. Rain and rain.

"Kill him, I'm done. Do whatever you want, I'm not apart of this anymore. I couldn't care less." My phone had dialed Niall.

Twenty seconds to change, twenty seconds to take a chance. With my watch ticking ,I approached the ghostly Paris. "You know, I've made so many mistakes in my life. And I have yet to determine if this is one... Cause why on earth, would this work out? Everything against and nothing for. However, it works. The connection and bond somehow, fit. And I'm not so sure I'm ready to give this all up, because of things being against us." I paused, took a deep breath, and ended the last two seconds.

"You know, each day is gonna be harder. It's fresh right now, current. But what's going happen to me when I'm homesick for him? When I realize it's been too long and it's only gonna be longer? That's when I'll break down. Not now." Paris sat up and wiped her face. "I'm not about to just throw this all away, I've invested too much."

"Listen, I'm not entirely comfortable being human." I paused. "And I think the reason we will never have peace on this Earth is because of our inability to accept differences. Most people don't listen with the intent to understand, but to reply. I think we all need to wash ourselves again. To hide all the dirt and pain. Cause I'll be scared that there's nothing underneath." Paris took note. "I began to think our air has been poisened, it just takes sixty to a hundred years to kill."

In that moment my lungs grew tighter, and my shoulders felt heavier. Sleep seemed inevitable. Crawling into the dry bed, my brain became flooded with stories.

Notes

Early Thanksgiving gift. Hope you all have a great turkey day!

Xoxo
E