( ─── :: “ well then ── great. you’ve already looked at them, you can show me where the best ones are. “ harrison never enjoyed being on the receiving end of anybody’s anger, let alone eleanor’s. it always caused them to get defensive, immediately putting themselves in fight-or-flight. growing up, harrison had been a picture perfect son, with all of the accolades a child could get under his belt. but cracks began to form around the edges of his perfect life and soon the entire picture had shattered, leaving them with nothing but jagged shards that were all too easy to cut himself on. anger, at that point, had meant pain ── it meant his brothers pushing him down the stairs, or the cold shoulder their father would give them when they had done nothing but disappoint him, or the cruel criticisms his mother would offer in place of the support they so desperately needed. they had turned to themselves as a comfort ── they had to become selfish, in order to survive.
but harrison had yet to figure out that there was a difference between self-preservation and being an asshole. his illness and childhood trauma wasn’t an excuse. they had fucked up ── this had been important to eleanor, and they should have treated it as such, but of course, they had casted it aside the moment they thought there was something ( or someone ) better to do. eleanor should have meant more to them than that. her anger was justified ; but harrison couldn’t stop the way that her cold words felt like knives against his skin. fidgeting on the spot, his gaze stayed locked on her, watching as she poked around on her phone with a frown.
his tongue touched against the back of his teeth as she turned his words back around on them, and they felt his hands come up to tug on the collar of the sweater he was wearing once more. her last words hit like a bullet ── and although harrison couldn’t call them wrong, he physically took a step back from her. “ are you kidding me, eleanor ?! “ they snapped, the tone of voice they took harsher than they meant. harrison wasn’t good at controlling their emotions. anger, although they tried to keep it under control, wasn’t any different to the unwavering positivity or the deepest despair when it finally broke free. “ are you bitter that i like spending time with them ? i’m sorry ── it’s not my fault you pick boys that are drier than a saltine cracker while trinity is actually interesting. doesn’t mean you have to go after my relationship like that. “
eleanor hummed a noncommittal note before giving another shrug. “i think i’d sooner just go home,” she muttered. she knew exactly what she was doing - because this was her part in the relationship, wasn’t it? it was the role she was born to play: the stodgy wet blanket, over-sensitive and excessively anxious, who wouldn’t know a good time if it materialized beside her at a museum in a flurry of pixie dust. might as well play into it, give harrison their cue to upstage her. if she was lucky, maybe they’d remember to prompt her for a meek bow at curtain call.
he snapped at her, and though every muscle in her body immediately tensed her first impulse was to quickly look around and make sure that no eyes were on them. though it had been over half a decade since she’d spoken to either of her parents, she heard her mother’s voice in her ear, clear as day: don’t make a scene. even now she felt obliged to follow that blueblood principle, keeping anything other than a sunshine-and-roses facade securely behind closed doors. it had worked for her parents, hadn’t it? the st. james recipe for conflict resolution, handed down from one generation to the next: mix together anger, resentment, and general unhappiness; soak in alcohol; bring to a simmer until the guests leave and everything catches on fire. bon appetit.
eleanor convinced herself that none of the other party-goers had caught wind of the brewing situation, and etiquette survival mode reluctantly gave way to registering the full extent of harrison’s harsh words. she sucked in a quick breath as the sharp teeth of them sank into a tender area, immediately drawing blood. he had never spoken to her like this, never raised his voice at her, and she felt more than a little at sea. familiar alarms were ringing in her mind, blaring buzzers telling her that she must have done something terribly, horribly wrong.
she swallowed a slight lump in her throat and with great effort pushed past the anxiety and intrusive thoughts to remind herself that she wanted to focus on being angry - because she had a right to that anger, thank you very much. she looked back up at harrison, drawing herself up to her full - if not exactly foreboding - height. “yeah, maybe i am a little bitter,” she replied, a distinct edge in her own voice now. “bitter because tonight i realized just how little my best friend must respect me.” she shook her head, rubbing at her temples. “let’s just leave trinity out of this, ok? i’m not upset because you were spending time with them; i’m upset because you ditched me.” all right, fine, maybe there was some jealousy at play, but harrison bailing on their plans was the thing that agitated her most.
he mentioned andy once again, and a threshold whose presence eleanor had only been vaguely aware of was decidedly reached. “we’re leaving andy out of this, too,” she replied through gritted teeth. “you’ve already made your opinion of him obnoxiously clear. we can’t all be you, peter,” she retorted, almost wincing at the harshness of her own tone. she’d only ever uttered harrison’s nickname with fondness, even if it was often tinged with exasperation. it felt a bit wrong to twist it back on them like this - but even eleanor, doormat extraordinaire, had her limits. harrison had seemed strangely fixated on the man she’d been seeing, and all at once her confusion had shifted toward immense frustration, especially given the context of the conversation - the fight.
