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stylesonfilms · 2 days ago

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ink & innocence - 12

word count: 3.6k

just a little something just cause lol! please please send me more plot ideas + ways to carry on the story from here. i was also thinking of drafting up 3-4 chaptes at a time to post back to back, meaning i would wait until i had 3/4 chapters, post those, and i wouldn't post another part until i had another group to post! just want to test the waters with algorithm! thank u and enjoy! Kirsten's eyes scanned the coffee shop, spotting the familiar blonde locks that belonged to Isobel seated near the back corner by the window. With an excited grin, she hurried across the room, her boots clicking against the tiled floor. "Hey, girl!" she exclaimed, leaning over to hug Isobel from behind, one arm wrapping snugly around her shoulder. The embrace was quick but warm before Kirsten slid into the seat across from her friend.

"I say we get a cup of coffee before my head actually falls off," Kirsten added with a light laugh, slinging her purse over the back of her chair. Isobel smiled in return, her sunny demeanor always so easygoing.

"We should! Aspen said she'd swing by before her shift. She hasn't seen you in a while," Isobel mentioned, already pulling out her phone to text Aspen and let her know they were waiting.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Meanwhile, Aspen walked along the bustling sidewalk with her fingers loosely intertwined with Harry's. The rhythmic clatter of their footsteps on the pavement was offset by the warmth of his hand in hers. His car was parked just down the block, but Aspen had wanted to take her time, enjoying the crisp air and the gentle press of his thumb tracing idle circles on the back of her hand.

They'd stolen a few moments together before leaving her apartment—a series of kisses that made Aspen giggle against his lips as she tried to protest. "I have to work," she had murmured, though her laughter made it clear she wasn't exactly resisting.

"You've got time," Harry had teased back, his hands firm on her waist, holding her close.

"Not if I stop to see Kirsten first," she managed, her voice soft as her fingers slid into the curls at the nape of his neck.

Now, as they approached the coffee shop, Aspen felt a small knot of nerves bubbling up. She hadn't spent much time with Kirsten since things with Harry had... shifted, and though she trusted him, the lingering thought of Kirsten's connection to him still sat quietly in the back of her mind. She pushed it away with the memory of his lips on hers and the way his hands always sought to ground her, as though she was the only thing that mattered in his orbit.

They reached the coffee shop, and Harry reached out to tug the wooden door open for her, his broad shoulders dipping as he gave her a small grin. "M'lady," he teased with a mock bow.

Aspen laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she stepped inside. The smell of roasted beans and cinnamon hit her immediately, along with the buzz of conversation and the occasional clatter of mugs. Her brown eyes swept across the room until they landed on the back of Kirsten's head and Isobel's unmistakable smile.

She swore her steps quickened on their own, an excited energy bubbling up as she weaved her way through the crowd. "Kirsten! Isobel!" Aspen chirped, practically bouncing as she reached their table.

"Hey!" Kirsten's voice was bright, though her eyes briefly flicked past Aspen to Harry, who stood a few steps behind her, his hands casually tucked into his jean pockets. Aspen leaned down to give both girls quick hugs, her natural warmth on full display.

Harry lingered just behind her chair, a quiet but steady presence as Aspen took her seat. Kirsten's sharp eyes darted between the two of them, her brows quirking slightly. "Didn't realize you two were suddenly... friends," she said, the hint of snark in her tone not lost on Harry.

Aspen, however, missed it completely, her focus already on explaining. "Oh! We just... got over our differences. He's actually taking me to work, so we can't stay too long," she said with a shy smile, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the edge of her sleeve.

Kirsten's gaze lingered on them for a moment longer, her lips pressing into a thin line before she glanced at Isobel, who seemed entirely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension. Internally, Kirsten felt the pang of jealousy coil tightly in her chest, sharp and biting. She hated it—the way the green tendrils of envy wrapped around her thoughts, squeezing and twisting. Aspen was her friend, after all, and she didn't want to begrudge her anything. But no matter how much she tried to shove the feeling down, it was relentless.

The truth was, Kirsten couldn't shake the belief that she could give Harry something Aspen couldn't. She'd known him longer, shared laughter over inside jokes Aspen wasn't a part of, and seen the confident, teasing side of him before Aspen had likely even noticed he existed. There had been fleeting moments between her and Harry—ones she had replayed in her head more times than she'd admit. The way his scent would linger just a beat too long, the spark in his eye when he playfully teased her, and the times his hand had brushed hers in a way that made her wonder if it meant something more.

What did Aspen have that she didn't? Sweetness? Shyness? Kirsten wanted to scoff. That wasn't enough to hold Harry's attention, was it? Not someone like him. Aspen was soft, quiet, unsure of herself. Kirsten, on the other hand, was bold and confident. She knew how to handle someone like Harry, knew what he needed. She could give him everything Aspen wouldn't even think to offer.

But as Kirsten's eyes flicked back to Harry, watching the way his gaze stayed unwaveringly fixed on Aspen, it felt like a slap. His expression wasn't just attentive—it was adoring. There was a softness in his eyes that made Kirsten's stomach churn with something unpleasant and bitter. He looked at Aspen like she was something precious, something fragile and irreplaceable. Like he'd move mountains for her without a second thought.

And that's what made it worse. Kirsten had never seen that look in his eyes for anyone else—not even for her, despite all the moments she'd convinced herself had meant more. It made her wonder if she'd ever really stood a chance at all.

As the thought settled heavily in her mind, her nails lightly tapped against the edge of the table, frustration bubbling under the surface. She hated herself for it—for the jealous, mean-spirited voice in her head that whispered Aspen didn't deserve him. That Aspen would never be able to keep someone like Harry interested, not in the long run. And yet, that voice only grew louder when she glanced at her friend's shy, happy smile, completely oblivious to the storm brewing just inches away.

Kirsten turned her attention back to Harry, her lips curling into a polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. There was still a chance, wasn't there?

But the way he stood there, his eyes soft and unwavering as they stayed trained on Aspen, made Kirsten's stomach churn. He looked at her like she was something precious, something fragile and irreplaceable.

Kirsten finally broke the silence. "Harry, can I talk to you for a second? Before you go?" Her voice was casual, but there was a flicker of something in her tone—something unreadable.

Harry hesitated, his eyes flicking to Aspen. She gave him a small, trusting smile and nodded, silently urging him. "Go ahead," she said softly.

Harry sighed, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the irritation creeping into his frame, before giving Aspen's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She barely looked up, caught in the whirlwind of conversation with Isobel, and he used her distraction as an excuse to leave. His boots clicked against the floor as he followed Kirsten toward the door, the tension rolling off him in waves.

The moment they were out of earshot, Harry's body language shifted. He leaned casually against the pillar, his arms folding loosely across his chest, but there was nothing relaxed about him. His green eyes were sharp, a silent warning gleaming beneath his furrowed brows.

"Is there something I can help you with?" His tone carried a measured bite, enough to get his point across without fully snapping.

"Woah, easy there, tiger." Kirsten's lips curled into a smirk, but her playful tone only seemed to stoke the fire. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and tilted her head at him. "No need to be hostile."

Harry's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation flashing across his face. He didn't bother hiding it, and his brow arched, urging her to get on with it. He had no patience for games, not when Kirsten had already been making her judgment so clear with every stolen glance and barbed comment.

Kirsten sighed, crossing her arms as her eyes darted back toward Aspen and Isobel. They were lost in conversation, Aspen's soft laughter breaking the ambient hum of the coffee shop. The sight made her stomach twist—not with happiness, but with something dark and uneasy. She turned back to Harry, her confidence slipping momentarily before she straightened her shoulders.

"Look, H," she began, her voice low. Harry's expression hardened at the nickname, a flicker of disapproval crossing his features. "I don't know what's going on between you and Aspen, but..."

"But?" Harry's voice had an edge, sharp and unyielding. His eyes narrowed, daring her to continue. He could see where this was headed—he'd seen it all before, felt the same gnawing jealousy she was trying to mask. He recognized the way her gaze lingered too long, the calculating pauses in her words. It mirrored his own restless thoughts when Aspen had mentioned Shawn.

"But," she pressed on, her voice quieter now, as if she were reluctant to say the words. "I just don't know if it's... right. For someone like you."

The words hit him like a challenge, and Harry's lips curled into a humorless smile. He let out a sharp, unamused laugh, shaking his head. "What's that supposed to mean?" His voice was calm, but his eyes burned with restrained anger.

Kirsten faltered for a moment, her confidence cracking under the weight of his glare. "I just mean... you don't need gentle, or kind, or sweet," she said, the words spilling out in a rush. "That's not who you are, Harry, and it's not what you're used to."

His laugh this time was louder, colder, and Kirsten flinched at the sound. Embarrassment prickled at her skin, but she lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his gaze. If he was going to mock her, she wasn't going to shrink under it.

"I know what you like," she continued, her voice regaining some of its earlier bravado. "I can handle you. I can take what you give, however rough it is. Can Aspen say the same? I mean, have you two even done anything besides kiss? If even that?"

Harry blinked, disbelief flashing across his face. For a moment, he was silent, his arms tightening across his chest as if to ground himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and deadly calm. "What I do—or don't do—with Aspen is none of your business. If I'm not interested, then I'm not interested. Got it?"

He turned on his heel, his focus already back on Aspen. He could feel the seconds ticking by, and he didn't want to waste any more time entertaining Kirsten's desperate attempts to get under his skin. Aspen's shift started soon, and he had plans to steal a few more moments with her before she had to leave.

"Wait," Kirsten blurted, her hand flying out to rest against his chest. He barely spared her a glance, stepping back as if her touch burned.

"What?" His voice was clipped, his patience wearing thin.

Kirsten's eyes softened, her lips curving into what she thought was a tempting smile. "Come by tonight," she murmured, her tone low and inviting. "While she's at work. I can show you what a big mistake you're making."

Harry froze, his brows arching as he let out an incredulous hum. He didn't move, didn't speak, and Kirsten's heart raced, convinced for a moment that she'd gotten through to him. Her pulse quickened as his tall frame leaned forward and his head dipped slightly, his lips hovering near her ear.

"No," he said, his voice firm and unwavering. He pulled back, catching the stunned look on her face, and for the first time since their conversation started, he allowed a smirk to cross his lips.

Turning away with a scoff, he walked back toward Aspen, muttering under his breath, "Un-fucking-believable."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

In the car, Harry's hand rested on her mid-thigh over her jeans. He gently patted her thigh to get her attention off the road, glancing over at her when she turned her attention to him immediately. "I wanted t'tell you something," Harry started off. For the last few minutes on their walk back to his car and when they pushed out onto the road again, the conversation he had with Kirsten burned into his thoughts.

He was conflicted on telling Aspen. On one hand, he vowed to communicate with her and to tell her everything, which he had been doing great at so far. On the other, he was hesitant because of Aspen and Kirstens friendship and what could become of it. Aspen tried her best to dislodge the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. If his hand was still on her thigh under her hands, then it shouldn't be anything bad. It was a built in habit for Aspen to worry over the worst case scenario before reasoning with other explanations.

"When Kirsten pulled me aside to talk to me," Harry glanced over to Aspen before he turned back to the road, "it was a little... alarming." His brows furrowed as he sighed, the car rolling to a stop at the intersection. So he took that minute to look at her and once again, he saw her questioning look. He gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze gently.

Harry let out a slow exhale, his thumb unconsciously tracing light circles against the fabric of her jeans. Aspen's gaze flickered between his hand and his face, her brow knitting together in a mix of curiosity and apprehension. He could feel her body tense slightly beneath his touch, the unspoken question lingering in the air.

"When Kirsten pulled me aside to talk," Harry started again, his voice calm but tinged with irritation at the memory, "she said some things that were... out of line."

Aspen blinked, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but she stopped herself, waiting for him to continue. Harry noticed the slight downturn of her mouth, her fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of her sleeve.

"She implied," he hesitated, gripping the wheel tighter as the car started moving again, "that you weren't right f'me. That I should... I don't know, be with someone more like her."

Aspen's chest tightened, and she quickly averted her gaze to the passing scenery. Her mind reeled, the sting of Kirsten's words cutting deep even though they hadn't been said to her directly. She felt small, like a fragile thing in the shadow of her friend's confidence and boldness.

Harry's grip on the steering wheel tightened further, his knuckles whitening as he continued. "And then she had the nerve to invite me over later," he said, his tone laced with disbelief. "To 'change my mind,' she said." He scoffed, the memory still fresh and irritating. "Like I'd even consider somethin' like that. I shut it down immediately."

Aspen's breath hitched, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap as her mind tried to reconcile the words. Kirsten had done that? It was one thing for her to think such things, but to actively say them—and then take it a step further by trying to pull Harry away—felt like a betrayal Aspen hadn't expected. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to retreat into her thoughts entirely.

Harry glanced at her, catching the flicker of doubt and hurt in her expression. "Aspen," he said firmly, his voice softening as he reached over to rest his hand on hers. "It didn't matter what she said. It doesn't matter. I didn't even hesitate to turn her down. There's no way—no chance—I'd ever let her or anyone else come between us."

Aspen nodded slightly, her eyes still downcast but her grip on his hand tightening just enough for him to know she was listening. She swallowed hard, willing herself to push past the ache in her chest as she focused on the reassurance in his voice.

Aspen's chest felt heavy, her mind swirling with Kirsten's betrayal. Her friend—the one she'd confided in, laughed with, trusted—had thought so little of her. Worse, Kirsten had seen fit to say those things to Harry, to try and plant doubt where Aspen had already fought to build fragile confidence. The idea of being compared to someone as bold and self-assured as Kirsten made her feel small, like her quiet nature and shyness weren't enough, like she wasn't enough.

Her heart twisted painfully as Harry's words replayed in her mind. "That you weren't right for me." She knew he hadn't meant to hurt her by saying it, but the sting of those words stuck, a reflection of her own insecurities. She felt raw, exposed, as though Kirsten had picked apart everything she feared about herself and laid it bare.

Aspen's eyes welled slightly as she stared out the window, unwilling to let Harry see the tears threatening to spill. She knew he wasn't to blame—he'd stood up for her, defended their relationship, and shut Kirsten down—but the hurt lingered, deep and consuming. Why would Kirsten do this? Was I ever her friend to begin with?

A part of her wanted to retreat, to bury the feelings and nod along to Harry's reassurances. But the ache in her chest told her this wasn't something she could easily shake off. Kirsten's actions had struck at the very core of what Aspen struggled with—her worth.

Harry's eyes darted to her as they neared the library, catching the way her shoulders slumped. He didn't miss the faint flicker of hurt crossing her features before she hid it, burying her reaction behind her usual shy reserve. His jaw tightened as guilt pooled in his chest. He shouldn't have told her. It wasn't her fault, and now he could see the weight of it settling on her.

When he pulled into the small parking lot behind the library and killed the engine, Harry turned toward her, his hand still resting on her thigh. Aspen stayed silent, her fingers still playing with the threads of her sleeve as she stared at her lap.

"Hey," Harry said softly, tilting his head to try and catch her gaze. When she didn't look up, he reached over, his fingers gently tilting her chin so her eyes met his. His heart ached at the uncertainty he saw there, her wide brown eyes searching his face for answers.

"You've got t'know," he began, his voice low and steady, "that nothing anyone says about us— about you— is ever going to change how I feel." He paused, brushing his thumb lightly against her cheek, his gaze unwavering. "You're it f'me, Aspen. You're what I want. No one else, not now, not ever."

Aspen's breath hitched, her cheeks warming under his touch. She blinked a few times, processing his words as a flood of relief began to wash away the sting of Kirsten's actions. "But... Kirsten—." she started, her voice barely above a whisper, but Harry shook his head, cutting her off gently.

"Kirsten doesn't get to decide who's right f'me," he said firmly. "That's not her place. And honestly? She couldn't be more wrong." He let his hand drop from her face to hold hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're kind, you're thoughtful, y'make me want t'be better... You're everything I didn't know I needed. It's only your place to tell me those things. I only care 'bout what y'think and what y'want."

Aspen's lips parted slightly, and she tried to form a response, but the lump in her throat made it hard to speak. Instead, she nodded, her eyes glistening as she looked at him with a mixture of gratitude and shyness. Harry hummed softly, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

"I mean it," he murmured against her skin before pulling back to look at her again. "Kirsten doesn't matter, alright? You're the one I want, Aspen. Always. I don't ever doubt myself, especially not after I realized you're it for me. I don't need dark hair or terribly designed tattoos or an overwhelming amount of confidence. I's you, always you."

Her lips finally curled into a small, bashful smile, and she nodded again, her fingers curling tighter around his hand. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice soft but full of emotion. Aspen exhaled, her shoulders falling relaxed.

Harry chuckled lightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Y'don't have to thank me, love. Just... believe me, yeah? I promise tha' I mean every word."

"I do," Aspen said shyly, her cheeks flushing deeper. "T-thank you for telling me, Harry."

Harry smiled his lopsided smile, his heart swelling at her words and he mumbled out a small ''f course.' . He leaned in again, this time capturing her lips in a gentle but reassuring kiss, pouring every bit of his sincerity into the moment. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Now, go knock 'em dead at work," he said with a smirk, making her laugh softly. She nodded, her earlier worries now replaced with a quiet sense of security. Aspen leaned into his hands that reached up to cup her cheeks and wipe away at her eyes. Her lips brushed a gentle kiss to his palm with another content sigh.

As she gathered her bag and stepped out of the car, Harry watched her go, a content smile playing on his lips. Whatever doubts Kirsten had tried to plant, they didn't stand a chance—not when he had Aspen, and not when he was so sure she was everything he'd ever want.

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