Cheated Hearts

It was a lonely night. I could hear the sounds of cars wailing in the distance, ambulances speeding by. It all seemed to be cutting at my core. I lay in bed, feeling the urge to give up and say, "World. Fuck you. This is supposed to be the prime of my life, but I'm stuck in a big vat of nothing." But I didn't. I just got up and pulled out the cigarettes I'd hidden in the bottom drawer of my dresser and trudged down the floors to the stoop outside.

The cold night met me and I zipped up my grey hoody. I lit the cigarette and inhaled, feeling some tension escape as I exhaled. I leaned back on the brick wall behind me and closed my eyes. Quiet.

This was disrupted, however, by the door banging open and a teary Harper. She was followed by Josh and it seemed they hadn't noticed me yet. I hid in the shadows and stubbed out the flaming cigarette on the wall.

"How the hell do you fucking expect me to react to that?!" Josh roared.

"I'm sorry," Harper squeaked, tears evident in her voice, "I didn't mean it. It just came out."

I felt anger spark in me as she turned and the yellow streetlight hit her face. I saw a bright red mark across her cheek; it was in the shape of a hand.

The street was silent, nobody was around. Harper was desperately looking out, trying to find help. I felt my bones ache. Josh walked right up to her, so close that Harper was hidden behind his frame.

I could hear him hiss through his teeth, "You're nothing but a fucking whore, Harper. I see that now."

He grabbed her by the wrists and the whimper that escaped Harper's lips as he twisted and pulled her limbs made me storm out of the corner and seize Josh by the shoulders, turning him around.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I bellowed.

Josh let go, clearly surprised I was there.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the man of the hour?" he said. He looked like a fucking monster. I was so distracted by my fury that I didn't even take the time to question him about his illogical words.

Harper made a low sound; tears staining her silvery cheeks.

"It's fine, Keaton. You don't have to-"

I cut her off, speaking to Josh. He still held one of her wrists in his hands. I could see the angry red marks forming on her skin.

"Get off of her," I growled.

He lurched at me.

"Mind your own business," he spat, his eyes filling with disgust.

I reached back and heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh reverberate in the darkness before I had even realized I'd swung. Josh put a hand to his bleeding mouth and turned to me. He aimed for my stomach and he didn't fail. I leaned over in pain.

"You think you're gonna be a hero?" he hissed.

I stood upright. He looked like he was gonna say something else. He did.

"She is not worth the effort, my man," Josh muttered.

I scoffed and hit him as hard as I could in the jaw. I saw his eyes roll back in his head for a split second.

"Shut the fuck up and fight," I muttered, annoyed that he was trying to be cool by saying worthless garbage, trying to zone me out.

He spat out blood on the cold pavement and looked between Harper and I with a leering face.

"You can have her," he growled and turned to walk down the street. I watched as he disappeared around the misty corner. I took out a fresh cigarette as I watched him vanish. My eyes found Harper as I lit it.

She looked like a ghost. Her pink lips formed an 'O' and her entire body was shaking. I blew out a puff of smoke as I asked, "You okay?"

"Keaton," she whispered, "Keaton, Keaton..."

It was like a chant. She fell on the stoop steps and curled against the wall. I sat down next to her.

"I don't know how to thank you," she whimpered, placing a finger on her battered cheek. I hissed as I saw a trickle of blood coming from a cut beneath her eye.

"What a fucking animal," I murmured as I put a hand on her cheek. She leaned against it and sighed. Big, fat tears stuck to her long black lashes. I threw another nearly new cigarette on the ground and stamped it with my shoe. She was like a sculpture when I turned back to her.

"I –I," she stuttered, "... He was so angry."

She began to weep, crying into her nightgown. I watched wordlessly as she sobbed into her hands and clothes, salt water was everywhere. Then something clicked in my brain and I reached for her. She clung onto me like a child. Her small hands and arms reached around my shoulders her head buried in the crook of my neck. I felt her red hair, scented with the smell of lavender and honey, tickled my skin as she cried.

"S'okay," I muttered, trying to comfort her.

"Thank you so much!" she wailed and embraced me tighter.

"It was nothing," I muttered, "Really. You should have called the cops."

She nodded into my neck, "I know! But Rory and Reagan are gone! They w-went to spend the weekend with Rory's p-parents. Josh said if I d –did anything, he would–" she broke off.

I felt the urge to go after Josh and beat his brains out take over my senses for a long while. Harper's tears seemed to end and she unburied her head from me and looked up.

"I'm hungry," I muttered.

She laughed despite the wetness on her cheeks.

______________________________________________________________________________

Harper's hands were still shaking as I handed her a cup of coffee. She took a sip and looked out the window. We were in my apartment; I was making food to distract her. She seemed too worn from the fucking disgrace of the night.

I glanced at the clock; it read three in the morning. I moved around the small kitchen nervously, it seemed Harper was in too much shock to notice. I placed the bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of Harper and she sighed and put her mug of coffee down.

"He was such a nice guy, too," Harper mused, looking at the soup.

I gasped at her. "A nice guy?" I repeated maliciously.

"Well. You know what I mean. He seemed to be. But I was wrong. I'm always wrong," she muttered, not looking at me. Her expression hardened.

I stared at her and placed a spoon in between her limp fingers. She didn't look up at me and took a small mouthful of the steaming liquid.

"Don't beat yourself up about it." The words hung in the air awkwardly. I cursed under my breath, realizing that this was the wrong thing to say to a woman who had literally just been assaulted by her boyfriend.

Harper looked up at me sharply. I gave her a horrified look. For a second I thought she was gonna hit me, but then she started laughing.

"Oh, Keaton," she giggled.

"Sorry," I muttered, "I'm just gonna shut up now."

I sipped some of my own soup and felt my cheeks redden.

"You are something, Keaton Miller," Harper murmured, looking down at her food.

"Is that good or bad?" I asked.

Harper seemed to ponder the question. She took a sip of the coffee and I winced as the light hit her now bruising face. Her soft silvery skin had patches of red and purple. I would kill Josh if I saw him again.

"I don't know," her soft voice finally said, "You're in between."

I stiffened. This was not the answer I wanted.

"What does that even mean?" I pleaded.

Harper met my eyes.

"I think your heart is good. It's your brain that gets you in trouble," she muttered sheepishly.

Her chocolate eyes softened. I reached over and placed a hand on her battered wrist. She winced a little.

"He will never hurt you again," I whispered.

Harper blinked. It seemed she was blinking back tears. She took my hand within hers and squeezed it.

"You're making me cry. I've cried so much tonight. And I never cry."