Page 54 of Deafened By Silence
Borrowed cash changes hands at the desk, money I’ll pay back to Kenneth later. He was overjoyed I was simply speaking to him again, even if it was for my own gain. I ask for one pair of wireless headphones and explain that I’m the guy who emailed ahead about Harper’s receivers. Ahead of this evening, I downloaded the transmitter app onto my phone, which I now connect to her implants. Harper watches on, giving me time to see my plan through and by the time I hold out my hand again, she’s softened enough to take it back.
We enter an enclosed room that appears dark from the outside, but the contrast to the limp lobby area almost knocks me back. It’s even better than I’d hoped. LED strips light up the wooden dance floor, a disco ball scattering fractured stars across the walls. Refreshments glimmer on a plastic table. A few couples sway, bodies pressed close in complete silence. I turn to Harper before the door clicks shut behind us, swallowing the last of the outside world.
“Now everyone is just like you.” Her eyes follow my lips, catching the words, and something in them shifts. She steps closer, her forehead briefly touching my chest.
“Sorry, Clay. I—” I don’t let her finish that sentence. Harper is used to a world that treats her differently, that mocks and excludes her because she’s different. I relate to that, and it’s something she never has to apologize for.
Handing Harper my phone, I encourage her to pick a music channel and then set my headphones to match. ‘All My Life’ by K-Ci and JoJo filters into my ears, the first notes tugging at something raw and unguarded inside me. In the dark, she cannot see the tiny smile that slips free, but I feel it pressing against my lips like it has been waiting years to escape.
I trail my fingers along the inside of her arm until I find her hand, guiding her into the hall and then to rest over my chest where my heartbeat hammers like a drum. My other arm slides carefully around her back, pulling her in until I can lean my forehead against hers. Her sway is soft, instinctive, and I let her movements guide mine, grateful to give her the lead.
For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel something other than a hatred for the world that swallowed me whole and then told me I’m the blame for the outcome. It’s more than her warmth seeping into me. It’s her presence, the way she centers me without even trying, pulling me out of the storm that never leaves my head.
I spent so many nights in a cell imagining what it would feel like to hold someone like this, someone who made the walls vanish and gave me the illusion of freedom. Not once did my fantasies come close to this reality. This is too sharp, too sweet, too much for me to take in all at once, and my lungs stumble against the weight of it.
When her arms slip around my neck and her lips brush the corner of my cheek, my chest ignites with intensity I do notknow how to contain. My throat tightens, and it takes all of my strength to keep my arms from trembling. She’s too precious for a beast like me to be holding, yet I can’t tear myself away now.
The playlist leaks from one song into the next, each as heartfelt and romantic as the last until Harper has fully melted into my body. The thin cotton of my black t-shirt is the only barrier between her cheek and my chest, her leather jacket long forgotten on a metal chair off to the side. My hands move instinctively across her back, greedy in their need to keep her as close as humanly possible. She smells of vanilla and something uniquely her, and I know it will ruin me forever. Her fingers brush against the edge of my beanie, trailing across the nape of my neck with feather-light strokes that nearly undo me.
I could stay like this forever, wrapped in the illusion that she belongs here in my arms. Too easily I imagine a life with her, a world where I could care for her so deeply that misery itself would never touch her again. A dangerous thought, because I almost let myself believe it.
But I know better. It is a pipe dream. She doesn’t know who I am, what I have done, or the kind of filth that stains me. When she finds out, she will see I am no savior but the very thing she should fear. I have nothing to give her, nothing worth her light. Not money, not power, not even a clean conscience. Rhys may be poison, but at least he can wrap that poison in gold. What do I have offer but meaningless words?
We stay until the disco ends and the lights switch back on. Squinting against the harshness, the silence suddenly presses in. There’s no more hiding who has his arms wrapped around her, who can’t seem to look away. My body screams to keep her here, but I force myself to pull back, creating a space between us. It hurts like hell, worse than any bruise or scar I have carried, but this isn’t about me.
This is about showing Harper there’s better for her out there. Better than me, better than Wavershit. She deserves more. Straightening my shoulders, I jerk my head towards the lobby, indicating it’s time to go. My chest feels even more hollow than when I arrived, void of the peace she carved within me, but I walk her out anyway.
Every step feels like she is dragging her feet, reluctant to leave the cocoon we built out on that dance floor. I keep my shoulders squared, my stride purposeful, but inside I’m fraying with every second. I feel her eyes on me, searching for answers, searching for what changed between one beat of a song and the next. I don’t dare look back at her, because if I do, I’ll crumble, and I’ll drag her into a world she has no business being part of.
Reaching the truck, Harper’s hand lingers in mine a second longer than I should allow it to, and when I ease away, she looks up at me with a furrow in her brow. I can’t quite interpret her expression, but quickly decide it’s not anger. Not quite confusion either. It’s heavier, and lands in the pit of my stomach like a stone. She doesn’t say anything, but the faint downturn of her mouth feels louder than a scream. For a girl who has mastered silence, she doesn’t need words to make me feel like I just took something precious and crushed it in my palm.
Opening the truck door, Harper refuses to get in. She stands there, her head tilted slightly, as if she is trying to piece me together, like I’m a puzzle with missing edges. There’s a challenge there too. The faintest spark that she won’t let me retreat so easily. For a terrifying heartbeat, I almost confess everything just to erase the look in her eyes.
“Did you…did you have a good evening?”I ask weakly, just to divert her attention. It doesn’t work.
“You know it’s not fair when you shut me out like that.” Running a hand over the back of my beanie, I try to sidestep her but the palm slamming into the center of my chest refuses to letme leave. “I mean it, Clay. You can’t bring me here and let me feel all these things, and then close yourself off as it it means nothing.”
“Believe me, it means something,” I mouth back slowly, allowing Harper to read my words by the light tumbling out from my truck. I hang my head, shaking it slightly at the mess I’ve made. I was trying to prove a point, but the only thing I’ve proved is that I’m not worthy of her.
“Since the moment I stepped on campus, you’ve made me swoon and then disappeared. Filled me with hope and then frustrated the shit out of me. This is new territory for us both, but we’re finally here.” Harper holds out her arms. “I’m not going to let you backtrack now.”
“I’m not a good man,” I repeat from the other day, hanging on those words like a mantra. It’s an excuse really, something I say to hold myself back from trying before I’ve had a chance to fail. Harper is the one person I don’t want to fail, so I swallow down the desire to run and keep myself planted before her.
“Clayton, look at me,” Harper demands, cupping my jaw. I spare her a glance long enough to show her my fractured soul. Her eyes are glinting as they bore into mine, leaving me vulnerable and bared. “Everyone has a past and everyone has their issues. But I know a decent man when I see one.”
The sincerity in her steady gaze floors me, a lump rising in my throat as I sift through her words. My mind snags on one part, but luckily her lips capture mine just before I ask if that’s what she sees in Wavershit.
Chapter Thirty Three
I’m happy to report sleep didn’t evade me last night. I passed out straight after Clay dropped me back to my dorm, my head filled with notions of romance and breakthroughs. So much so, that I missed an apparent storm that rolled through overnight, dousing the campus in an excess of slushy mud.
The soles of my boots slip on the slick grass as I head toward the library, intent on hiding myself between silent stacks and over-ambitious notes I’ve been collecting for weeks. Especially as winter break is looming and I suspect a host of lengthy assignments are about to be set.
Reaching the library’s stone steps, I don’t see Rhys until his shadow stretches long across my path, blocking the weak sunlight. He moves with the intent of a viper, slipping an arm around my waist and guiding me back toward the street with a decisive tug.
“No studying today,” he mouths, his mouth tight and eyes hooded. “You’re coming with me.”I stumble once, my protest half-formed, but his grip is unwilling to release me. I’ll pretend that’s the reason I follow without more than a huff, and not that I’m avoiding doing real work by any means necessary. Thehold shifts from my middle to around my shoulders, keeping me closely tucked into his side. Rhys is leaning onto me slightly, the first hint that something isn’t quite right.
Escaping the bleakness of outside, we enter the veterinary medical block and stroll into a coffee house on the lower level. I’ve heard there’s no strict rule that students can only use their own facilities, but it’s implied. Everyone present is wearing a white coat, green lanyard and ID badge, setting them up for becoming real veterinarians one day. They cradle their steaming mugs whilst hunched over textbooks, too engrossed in their work to notice two outsiders amongst them. Their commitment is putting me to shame.
