Harrison Avenue // H.S.

Boxed Wine and the Actual Truth

Hiiiya! - this is also from an earlier time, before they were married, before Dylanne. Sorry the timeline is ALL over the place.

[Harry]

I think it's fair to say that I practice a near extreme form of patience when it comes to Ellison. However, there are moments that I am certain she's entirely lost her mind.

I'm in love with the girl, but she's off her rocker.

"Harry, I actually cannot believe this," Elle says with a voice that grows louder with every word, staring at me like I've done the absolute worst thing possible. "How could you do that? And not say anything about it for years now?"

The look in her eyes is this mixture of hurt, anger, a little bit of shock, and then a lot of confusion. She's across the island kitchen counter from me, with dirty plates from our dinner in her hands, the glow from a candle sat in front of her warming her face. I can see a little of the exhaustion that's in her just by the way she's standing, the way her shoulders slouch as though she wants to lean over the counter instead. The anger is bubbling in her though and rather than the exhaustion of her long day tiring her out, I have a feeling it is only going to add to this argument that is unraveling.

I already feel myself growing annoyed with the fact that a disagreement is about to happen, and it overwhelms my thoughts that were previously centered on thinking about how pretty Elle is – even with her anger, even with her exhaustion, the thoughts are still there, but fading. Her hair is a little wild, as it almost always is by the end of the day, pieces pulled together toward the back, but wavy strands still falling over her face. Her eyes are as intense as always, the gray in them lighting up with her own annoyance, and even though I can often get distracted just by looking at her, I am more ready to defend myself on this one. So, this argument I'm already annoyed by – it is inevitable.

"Ellison," I say her name right back to her, my voice gaining volume as well. I was able regulate myself at first, almost laugh it off, because I didn't think she was genuinely mad. That was about three cycles ago, of this loop of Elle ramping up more and more, revisiting the same lines again and again. "You cannot be serious right now."

It is now that I've accepted the reality that I'll likely be sent to the couch tonight because I can tell neither of us is going to back down. If you ask me, it's entirely unfair. It is always me who gets banished to the couch despite Elle being the one who is far more consistent is starting an argument. Though, we both share the tendency to prolong it.

I learned quite a few fights ago to prepare for this however, because it is bound to happen with her. I even learned to stash an extra pillow and duvet in the hallway closet, because the first few times I was sent to the couch, I was stuck with throw pillows and thin blankets.

That is, until, hours later, when Ellison always shuffles out of our bedroom and down the hallway to sleep with me on the couch instead.

It never fails, and she always comes with a warm blanket in her hands.

Elle's moved a little closer to my side of the island counter, setting the dirty plates in the sink to instead grab a kitchen towel and squeeze onto that instead. I'm sure she's about seconds away from ripping it to shreds and I am feeling a little thankful that she no longer has something so breakable in her possession.

There was no indication that this is where we'd end up this evening, we were only cleaning up from dinner, and neither of us seemed to be in a mood that would make an argument easy. Sure, Elle was exhausted from her day and said as much. Sure, I had a long one as well – but I was feeling happy and cheerful. Maybe you could say it was my fault for bringing it up in the first place. It isn't a secret that Elle has put a lot energy into dissecting every last moment of that summer we spent together in South Dakota. It can be risky to make any mention of it because even after years, Elle can fall into a tendency that is too critical of that time and her role in it.