The Perfect Machine: Kingdom Of Glass (GxG

21. Seriously, Harlow?

I watch the sun go down and the calm wind began to pitch up as I sit thinking about every decision I have made. Harlow never pressured me to go with her, and she didn't expect me to do so. I don't know why I feel obliged to go along with her. The thought had never occurred to me before. Why haven't I run away from her and gone to find my parents?

As time elapses and food was served indoors, I peacefully find my way to the table. Strangely enough, Harlow is as calm as me. It's just Mary and Harry who were picking up the conversations around the table.

Harry has countless questions for Harlow about his dad, and Harlow kindly answers all of them. Harry's dad was a good man, but he changed too much when he got through the program. Noah was no longer the same man; he did not have empathy, sympathy, or concern for this spouse and child when he returned.

Mary shows us to her room after supper. She has an extra mattress that we could use on the floor. Harlow takes it and lays it down, leaving me with the bed. Mary said she would be on the sofa. She's spent most of her time thereafter her husband came back, and even when he left.

It feels like forever since I laid down in bed, staring into the air, deep into my mind.

"I think it might be time for us to split," I hear Harlow say, but I remain quiet.

"You should find your family and run away with them," She says.

"I'm not going to be here much longer, and I'm sorry I wasted your time," Harlow clears her throat.

"You haven't wasted my time," I say, a little irritated that she thinks so.

"I am not going to wait until I hurt you before I leave," She tells me. I clench my jaw.

"You're not going to hurt me," I say stubbornly.

"I'm dying, River," Harlow blurs out, making it more real. I swallow deeply while I feel myself well up and I shut my eyes. I feel my tears drain down my cheeks. I can't help it for some strange reason. I try to reach for air as quietly as I can, so I can't hear, but deep down, I know she can hear me. The quietness continues on.

I open my eyes when a certain noise keeps repeating itself in the bedroom. My eyes look for it in the dark. Then decided to turn on the light next to the bed. I stare down at Harlow, who's tossing and turning in her bed. Sweat is streaming down her forehead and she can't stop moving.

"Harlow," I whisper, but there is no response. I begin to get out of bed and bend down next to her.

"Harlow, you've got to get up," I say, concerned.

"Harlow," I almost shout as I shook her shoulder, but before I realize it, she wrapped her hand around my throat.

"H-Harlow," I try to say as I search for air. Her dark eyes gaze at me with anger. This can't be happening, not now and not here. I'm trying to release her hand from me, but she's just too strong. Her hold tightens as she gets up on her feet and presses my body against the door. I haven't been so helpless before. My head begins to feel dizzy. The oxygen can't get into my lungs.

"Harlow, I can't breathe," I try to say but turn to my right to see a bat leaning against the wall. I don't hesitate to get it and smack Harlow right in the head.

She's losing her grasp, and I'm taking a big breath as I hold on to my throat. It felt like she is going to break me. Harlow turns to me again, but I'm rushing to the other side of the room.

"Harlow, I need you to come back," I say, my voice is trembling more than an earthquake. She leaps to the top of the bed and I run for the exit as she came for me. Mary comes in with a gun in her hand.

"No!" I scream, but it's too late. She fired the pistol in her possession and blood splatter on the wall behind Harlow. I run after Mary and head out of the bedroom to lock it together to prevent Harlow from coming out.

"What did you do when your husband came to be like this?" I ask Mary, out of breath, as we try to hold the door locked.

"He wasn't around much," she says as Harlow punches a hole in the door.

"Okay," I say, but then the door crashes on both of us. We're trying to lift it off, but Harlow's weight on top of it makes it more difficult.

"Mom?" I turn to Harry, who is standing at the door to his bedroom.

"Hide!" Mary screams at him, and he shuts his bedroom door in front of him, but Harlow has already pointed her attention to him.

"Harlow!" I shout after I have lost the weight of the door. She looks to me as if I am her next meal. Harlow speeds towards me, so I race to the staircase, but I slip down the last step. I struggle but get back on my feet.

She keeps trailing me, so I round the table to keep the distance.

"I know you don't want to hurt these people, so please come back," I beg her, but it's like my words fly away from her.

She throws the table to the side as if it were weightless and she comes to me again. I'm about to turn around fast, but she managed to get a grip on the back of my top, pulling a piece off when I dropped to the floor.

I watch Mary go down the stairs with a pistol in her hand again.

"No!" I exclaimed before she could make her aim. Harlow darts for Mary, but I tripped her with my legs and brought her down on her belly. She turns around and lets me face her as I lay on top of her.

"Let me put an end to it!" Mary yells.

"No!" I scream out as Harlow wraps her arms around my waist, clutching me so tightly that it feels like my ribs are going to break.

"Harlow," I plead out of breath as I struggle to get out of her grasp.

"Harlow!" I scream as loud as I can, and for a moment, I felt her arms open, but it is only a short second. I raise my chin, looking straight down into her dark eyes—Battling myself on how to get out of this.

"I can shoot her!" Cries Mary.

"No," I tremble. Harlow is not going to die, not now, and not tomorrow. I lean forward, potentially making the stupidest and most unwise decision of my life when my lips meet hers. The warmth and softness of her lips make a wave of complex emotion flow from head to toe.

The warmth of her breath and the firmness of her lips make me shiver, and the grasp she's got around me loosened to a soft hold. I'm pulling away from her face, looking at a pair of black, wide-open eyes.

She's waiting for me to say something, but I don't have any words at all. I panicked that she was going to let me draw my last breath. Why did I do that? I don't know why. It seemed to be the only choice I had.

"Are you serious, Harlow?" Mary shouts as she lay down her gun.

"A kiss?" She shook her head. "You just needed a kiss? Hell, I could have done that," She shakes her head with a loud breath, then disappears up the stairs for her boy.

I look down at Harlow again, feeling the heat on my face as I get back to my feet from her body. She's sitting up, looking around at the mess she's made. Then quickly, she's staring down at her right arm.

"Who shot me?" Harlow asks as she lifts her eyebrow at me. I point up. She nods as she knows who I'm talking about. She's been staring at the bullet hole in silence for a moment.

"Did I hurt anyone?" She asks as her voice cracks.

"No," I shake my head on the way to her, but she lifts her hand to stop me in my tracks. She gets up on her legs and makes her way over to the sink, taking a cloth to keep the wound under pressure.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask her, hoping that she will, but she shakes her head. I'm sad that she doesn't even want to talk about the fact that I kissed her. It made my emotions more complicated for her, but I know she's feeling something totally different.

"Okay," I manage to smile at her as I make my way to the stairs.

"River?" She says my name, and I turn to her.

"Thank you," She gives me a tiny smile, and I nod as I make my way back to the bedroom, trying to sleep despite the chaos that my state of mind is in.