redamancy • oneshots ✓

Apology

Written by: loveinslowmotion on archive of our own

Posted on: September 8, 2016

Description: Sometimes all you need is to kiss and make up.

Official Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7992934

Warning: This chapter contains mature content. Please read at your own risk! :)

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The fight was stupid. It wasn't a fight in the grand sense of the word, but rather a... disagreement, of sorts. Nothing major, but enough to upset and make them want some space from each other for a while.

The apartment they shared didn't seem big enough for the two of them when they were like this. Tension hung too thickly in the air, the quiet after raised voices so stark, almost alarming. Neither of them could stand to linger around ignoring each other as if the other weren't even there; it was suffocating.

Harry was the one to leave. Without so much as a goodbye, he was grabbing his keys and heading out the door, god knows where to or for how long. Taylor told herself she didn't care, that she didn't give a damn for even a second, not when he was going to give her attitude like that.

Harry always came back. Always. Until one day he wouldn't – Taylor was terrified of the day he would walk out that door and never come back.

Attachment was a wonderful and painful thing. Being together was like – well, it was the greatest feeling in the world. Having someone who listened, who laughed, who understood, who knew exactly what to say and exactly what to do, who was there through the highs and the lows, who could always bring a smile, who was fantastic in every conceivable way – neither Taylor nor Harry could imagine having anything more incredible than the bond they shared. It was a beautiful, awestruck feeling, which made it all the more awful when things dipped south between them. They couldn't bear to part for good. They just couldn't, not after they had grown together like they had.

Taylor milled around, unsure of what to do with herself. Her nail polish was beginning to chip to an unsightly state, but she didn't feel like fixing it right now. She didn't feel like doing anything. She hated fighting. It drained her, and it was only killing her more that the one person she wanted to curl up with until her mind subsided was the one person she was upset with.

Even both of the cats were asleep, curiously close together on the bed Taylor had neatly made earlier in the day. She cautiously laid down near the edge of the bed – on Harry's side, since they were occupying the middle and most of hers – just watching them silently, not having the heart to disturb them just so she would have some company. Maybe a nap would do some good: she could sleep off the doubtful feeling in her stomach, look as sweet and relaxed as the two pets next to her, and when she woke everything would be fine again.

It was nice in theory, but Taylor couldn't sleep with Harry's scent embedded in the pillow she was resting her head on, a waft of the mix of his shampoo and detergent filling her nose with every breath. There was a hint of the cologne he had been wearing yesterday, too, and she wanted to go back, desperately wanted to go back to last night when Harry had wrapped her up in his arms, kissed her on the forehead and wished her sweet dreams. She wanted to hear him say "I love you" again. What if she never heard him say "I love you" again?

A small stray droplet escaped her tear duct and slipped down her cheek, and Taylor's hand instantly shot up to her face as she cursed herself for being so stupid. Harry loved her, he was going to come home, everything would be okay, their argument had not been that bad. Occasional disagreements were healthy in relationships; she shouldn't be so overdramatic about it. She. Would. Not. Cry.