Ruby ღ

I'm not a bitch,
I'm not a slut,
I'm not a whore,
And I sure as hell ain't yours.
So go ahead and do yourself a favour:
Don't believe the rumours you hear about me.

Survival 101 - You're as good as dead if you try to get into my pants.

(Sequel to 'Red ♥')
Many thanks to: J.K Pansear (Kammy), kelsea (Briella), Musical Megster (Megan) - Love you all guys, thank you ♥ xoxo ~Patch

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9. Teardrops On My Pillowcase

Red's P.O.V

Is it true you can have your heart broken? Yes, it hurt when Zayn left me that day, but it didn't break my heart. I know how I described it - like my soul getting ripped to shreds. But it wasn't literal. I think for Ruby it was.

I watched as Harry ranted; watched my cousins face crumple in disbelief, watch her skin turn from a healthy soft tone, to a pale ghostly white. Her lips stood out, cherry red. Her slate grey eyes darkened with hidden emotion. And then, when she could no longer see Harry's face, when the front door slammed, so did the gates of her humanity.

I thought she would learn to love, as I did. I thought she would learn to trust, too. But Harry left to early. He was supposed to leave later on. And that's what scared me. Because now, she'd gone back to normal. Back to the Ruby she was before I met her. Cold as ice and a true badass.

I felt sorry for Harry at first, but now I don't feel any sympathy for him, only Ruby. Because Harry might've had his heart broken a few times - but he sure as hell never had it torn apart.

 

Harry's P.O.V

Oh fuck.

I didn't know what I did back there. I couldn't think about it. I just kept on walking, even when the rain hammered down on the pavements. It was so dark outside, and I didn't care. I had to clear my head.

Why did I say those things to her? What will she do?

I thought I was trying to protect her from the telepath - but all she needed protecting from was me.

In the end it was always me.

I never told her about the night she got drunk. I told her I found her there, giggling in the tattoo parlour. But no, I was there right beside her, getting an identical tattoo of her name on my ankle too.

But I never told her, and now I'm never going to be able to. Because she hates me.

I know she does.

And if I turn back now, I might be too late.

 

 

Ruby's P.O.V

I had no business with Harry now. NONE.

I tore myself away from Reds' comforting embrace and let out a frustrated growl, trying to make sence of the whole situation.

I guess I'd just shut myself off. I'd made a big mistake letting myself be loved by my own cousin. Then Harry.

Oh, Harry. Why did you leave?

I wanted to pound that stupid fucking voice out of my head!

"He left because he hates me. And he should. Because I hate him."

I whispered these words like a chant, convincing myself that in the end, Harry meant nothing to me.

NOTHING.

I tore of the clothes I was wearing and slid into a pair of jeans. No, these weren't plain black skinny jeans.

Those were mild.

These were ripped, with chains and spike-studs lining the pockets, with 'Fuck You' scribbled in white clothing pen in spiky letters on the right thigh. These were my old jeans. The jeans I vowed never to wear again.

Fuck that vow.

"Ruby?! What are you doing!"

I had a pair of scissors held to my hair. I don't know why I was cutting it, it was short enough already, but I needed a change so badly. If I had short hair, I could get rid of the image of Harry combing his fingers through it.

I whimpered and set the scissors down.

Was I going crazy?

"Red. Help me." I looked up at her and her arm was around my waist, helping me up and setting me back down on the bed. I looked down at my jeans and groaned.

"Why do I have moments like these, d'you think I'm loopy?"

Red replied, and sounded so serious I thought I might puke.

"Yes. Maybe. The same thing happened to your parents."

I was stunned into silence.

"What?!"

"Yes, they went crazy. Do you know why? Because they were telepaths. After a while, maybe twenty years or so, the telepath begins hallucinating, seeing and hearing things that are out of their control. And it scares then shitless. You're mum got put in a crazy home, then committed suicide. Your dad died of natural causes, but was still nonetheless bonkers."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered, tears threatening to fall again.

Stop crying, eyes. Please stop crying.

"Because I thought, if I lied, then I'd stop you from going the same way. Stop the insanity, I guess."

Does Harry know?

"Fuck Harry." I muttered.

Red grimaced.

"Harry doesn't know. But if you do go crazy, then it'll be quiet, subtle. You'll look okay on the outside, and then you'll break down. And lash out. I don't want Harry to be there, as much as I hate the bastard, I don't want him to get hurt."

"I wouldn't hurt Harry." I spoke the truth.

"Yes, you would. When you finally break down, you feel an urge to put something or someone through the same pain you're going through. I'll be there, instead of Harry."

"Why do you hate him? Because of what he said to me?" I know I ignored that bit of information, but I was concentrating on what she said earlier.

Red sighed and looked down at her chipped green nail polish.

"A while ago, before I met Zayn, before any of this happened, I was in love. His name was Scott. But Harry and I were best friends, before his band started! Ha! Imagine that! Anyway, we did everything together - got into jail, got out of jail, swapped 'out of order' signs on the toilets. But then Scott came along, I grabbed the bull by its horns, and Harry faded out of the picture. Jealousy got the best of him, I guess. He ended up tying me up, gagging me, and made me watch as he killed Scott. It was so fucking horrific."

She shuddered. I whimpered.

"But I swore my revenge. That I would murder the murderers. Poetic, isn't it? Anyway, I defended the innocent after that, kinda like Robin Hood. When I was working alleyways one night, I knocked out two guys and found a nineteen-year old boy, writhing in pain beside a dumpster."

I choked back hysteria.

"He looked up at me with those eyes and I felt the same 'in love' feeling as I did when I met Scott. It tore through me, and so I ignored it as much as humanely possible. I took Zayn back to my apartment, tended to him. And slowly but surely, when I got pissed one night, we had sex. It was too good to be true."

I pretended to be grossed out and stuck my tongue out at her, grimacing.

"No more info! I beg of you!" I batted her away with one of my pillows and she laughed.

"But from that point onwards, it was easier and easier to love."

I became serious almost immediately.

"But then he broke your heart." I said firmly.

Red shook her head.

"No, he simply hurt me by leaving. But yes, it felt like he broke my heart."

I ran a hand through my tangled hair and sighed.

Did Harry break my heart?

"Thanks, Red. I needed that little pep talk slash depressing speach." I stood up and she chuckled darkly while I stripped off my jeans and slung on a pair of faded blue slouch jeans that felt so comfortable I was sure I could die happy wearing them.

"Oh godess, it's true!" I cried, prancing round the room.

Red threw a pillow at my head.

Laughing, I slipped on a loose shirt and pulled my hair back into a scruffy ponytail.

"Want me to go fetch Harry?"

"Yeah."

The voice inside me screamed: NO! YOU FUCKING DON'T WANT HER TO FETCH HARRY! HE'S AN ALMIGHTY DICKWAD YOU STUPID BITCH!

But I did what I had to and ignored the voice, scrubbing off my makeup and looking at myself in the mirror for the first time. Naturally.

I looked so much like my mum, it hurt. My cheekbones were perfect, my dark eyes twinkled and my lips were a soft red, my upper lip a little fuller than my bottom lip. My eyelashes were long, and my skin tone was healthy and good. I felt like me again. The five-year old me that ran around my parents back garden naked, screaming Beyonce at the top of her lungs.

Singing.

Something I hadn't done in so long.

Maybe, when Harry came, I could sing to him.

Singing again would expose my soul.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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