Whispers

Every hit of Rae’s fists was like a rhythmic beat. One, two, three. She kept going ducking and striking up. One, two, three. Her entire body was covered in sweat, her sports bra drenched in it as she savagely landed a solid punch to the punching bag, making it swing. She hadn’t boxed in a very long time, but she certainly wasn’t horrible.

Self-defense classes were nothing new to her. She had taken them when her mother had passed away, and she had started them again just a few days ago. Now she was standing in the gym, placing furious punches on the bag late at night, waiting for Trystan to get off of work.

Done taking out her rage on an inanimate object, she undid the gloves, tossing them on the shelves that they belonged to. She took a swig out of her water bottle, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes. It was absolutely silent in the 24 hour gym, no one else gracing it with their presence at eleven on a Friday night. Everyone was either out with friends our staying in out of the cold.

Checking her phone, Rae saw that Trystan had finally gotten off of work and that she was heading home. Grabbing her duffle bag and pulling it over her shoulder, she headed towards the door, swiping her flashy card on the way out.

Frigid wind blasted past her. She shivered, the sweat on her arms instantly drying and growing cold as she dashed to her car, opening it and ducking in. Rae hadn’t bothered with a sweater; the door to car distance was roughly five yards.

Halfway on her way home, her phone rang. “What, Trys?”

“Harry’s um, waiting inside for you.” It was the way that Trystan said it that set off all of Rae’s alarms. She could hear something. Her foot pressed harder on the gas as she went down the road. “He asked me not to call ahead but that’s proper bullshit. I’m going to Louis'.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s absolutely wasted, Rae.”

Rae inhaled a sharp breath of air through her nose. It wasn’t surprise that made her make the noise, but rather frustration. She felt as though she should have known it was coming. It had only been a few days since his father’s funeral, but she couldn’t watch his every move at every second. She also didn’t want to smother him.

That day had been the first full day she had been away from him. She had gone to class, worked a short shift, and then gone to the gym. It had been the perfect amount of time for him to get car-parked drunk.

“Is he violent?”

“No,” Trys muttered. “That’s why I’m leaving. He’s completely reserved. Nothing like normal drunk Harry. It’s actually rather terrifying.”

“I’ll be there shortly. Just… make sure he doesn’t leave.”

No tears fell from her face. No frustrated sounds left her mouth again. All Rae did was tighten her hands on the steering wheel, her knuckles going bone white as she gripped the leather, twisting her hands along it. She wouldn’t panic and she wouldn’t get upset. She was going to listen to him an consul him. She was done panicking over things.

Trystan was sitting in Louis’ car when Rae arrived. Louis rolled down the window as Rae arrived, getting out of the car calmly and walking to his car. He made a straight, firm line with his mouth, hand bouncing up and down on the steering wheel. “I went inside to see if he was alright. He said he was fine, just waiting for you.”

“Does he look fine?”

“What do you think? Of course he doesn’t look fine.” She scowled at him, disliking his tone. He made a face, sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, just go in there and talk to him. He looks- well he looks like his father has just died.”

Without saying anything else, she walked around the front of Louis’ car. She wondered when it had become so normal for Louis to just be sitting outside the house to get Trystan. Rae remembered the very first time she had ever met Louis- really met him. She had thought that he was a world of trouble and wanted nothing more than to escape the bounds of his house.

How far they had all come.

Rae remembered that first day she met Harry too. He had been sitting in a bathroom alone, throwing up. He had thought himself a comedian, making snide comments to her. But he had known her birthday, something almost no one else at the party had known. She had never asked him how he knew, or why he knew. But now she knew that he just knew things, tiny details.

Harry did not look unlike that first night. Instead of taking up a seat on the couch, he was sitting in her hallway. The lights were out, but the TV in the living room was on, blue light and shadows dancing across the room. He was pushed up against the wall, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up, elbow resting atop his knee, hand holding his head.

The first thing she did wasn’t going over to him. Instead, she walked to her kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with room temperature water. She threw her keys on the counter and set her gym bag on the floor, making a mental note not to trip on it. When the glass was full, she walked into the hallway, walking to him and crouching down, offering out the glass.

Harry accepted it without a word, taking it and bringing it to his lips. He took a few swigs out of it before silently setting it down on the ground. He had yet to look up at her. “Aren’t you going to yell at me?”

She was surprised. “Do you want me to yell at you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe.”

“That’s quite a few answers you’ve got there. Why should I yell at you?”

“Because I’ve spent all this time trying not to drink and now I’m sitting on your hallway floor with my blood drowning in whiskey.” Tentatively, Rae reached her hand out and brushed a strand of hair from his face. He didn’t flinch like she thought that he would. Trystan was right- this was different. “I thought that you might break up with me.”

A million thoughts went through Rae’s mind. She was so surprised that she made a sound, sitting down- or falling, rather- and just staring at him. They were both on the floor then. He was studying his shoes. “Is that why you came here? Did you want me to get mad and break up with you? I hope that isn’t what you think of me.”

“No, I just… tried so hard. But I’m not angry drunk, or anything.”

“Then what kind of drunk are you?”

He looked up at her then. His eyes were rimmed in red. Right there, Rae saw everything in Harry that she had felt when her mother passed. It was like someone stuck a chisel in her heart and struck it with a hammer. She fought the urge to cry then as she waited for him to answer, trying to be patient. He looked like he was fumbling for words.

“A guilty drunk,” he muttered. He wiped a tear quickly as it escaped his eye. He sniffed and looked up at the ceiling. The TV was still casting shadows down the hall, leaping in shapes and different sizes. “One that doesn’t feel very good about himself. I think I wanted to be angry, but I’m not.”

Rae gave him a soft look. She shifted so that she was sitting with him, her back pressed against the wall. Their arms were touching, heat radiating between them. “You’re not the same person anymore, you know?”

“You sure of that?”

“The Harry Styles that I met at that house on that night of my birthday wasn’t the one sitting next to me now. When I walked into the bathroom that day, you looked up at me and told me that I would be guilty if I left you there to drown in your own vomit. After I sat down next to you, you made a comment that you could see up my skirt.”

“You were wearing lacy underwear,” he agreed. He glanced at her with a weak smile. “They’re still my favorite.”

“Regardless, you were a complete ass that night. Now here you are again, drunk and sitting in my hallway, waiting to get yelled at. Waiting for someone to say that you should feel the guilt that you do. Would you have done that, back then?”

“No.”

She ran her hand down his arm and took his hand. “Then don’t ever think for once that I expect that sort of behavior from you, or assume that I think the worst if you’re drunk. Now would you like to tell me why you’re so upset?”

“I loved him.” Harry nodded his head, looking down at his lap. His features contorted. “I fucking loved my dad, and for what? To cry over him when he was dead? What kind of person does that make me that I still wanted him in my life?”

“A normal one.”

“I don’t think so.”

“And why not?”

Harry looked at Rae. “Because that’s exactly what Leon wants with me, isn’t it? Despite everything, he feels cheated by our friendship, like we never really ended correctly or on his terms.”

Rae was stunned to silence. “I don’t know.”

“Hmm.” Harry didn’t say anything for a while. What he had said was dangerously close to what Leon had said before. They had been like brothers. And though they had gone sour before Rae came in the picture, she was some sort of catalyst, she was the hairpin trigger. Harry gestured to the wall. “Don’t think I don’t know why you’ve gotten a new alarm.”

“What? I just-"

“Spare me.” Harry stood up, dropping her hand. She remained sitting on the floor. “You don’t need to be afraid of him,” he said with finality. “It’ll be taken care of.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Harry walked away from her, heading up her stares. She remained sitting on the floor, confused as ever, looking up after him. “Harry? I don’t know what that means.”

He never answered her.