Desolation [h.s]

Chapter 7

The hallway is nearly as dark as my room, the only source of light being from the window in the living room. Keeping the door open, I take timid and calculated steps. If I woke Harry up I think I would be murdered, literally.

It's empty in the living room, everything in its usual spot. The pillows lined the couch, the books tucked away in their homes on the shelves. It was so organized, everything placed so precisely.

Shuffling into the kitchen, I grab one of the clean glasses from the drying rack, bringing it over to the water dispenser that was built into the fridge. Placing the empty glass underneath the dispenser, I press the button and a steady stream of water pours out.

I watch in silence, arms crossed over my chest. The small light shines onto the glass and a small beep rings through the kitchen once the water flow has come to a stop. Grabbing the glass, I bring it up to my lips, taking a large sip.

Gently placing the cup onto the counter, I take a deep breath scanning the room. Once my eyes lock on the window of the terrace, my breathing catches. A dark silhouette is outside, leaning against the metal railing. Strands of curls are fluttering in the slight wind, flying out from the messy bed hair.

I purse my lips, contemplating whether or not to go over to him. I could just go back to sleep, completely ignoring Harry. It's not like he was a joy to have a conversation with. But I didn't want to go to sleep. I didn't want to risk the chance of seeing and experiencing that night again.

So, with tentative steps, I walk over to the window keeping my stare on the broad back of the silhouette. Grasping onto the slim handle, I tug open the door, stepping out onto the small balcony.

Harry's back stays turned to me as I close the door behind me, making my way to stand next to him.

It's quiet. Other than the occasional car passing or the soft whisper of the wind, there's no other noise. It's serene, peaceful.

Resting my forearms on the railing, I allow my eyes to close, taking in the tranquil feeling. Harry makes no move to talk nor do I, the two of us simply standing in each other's presence.

Briefly, I allow myself to steal a glance of him from the corner of my eyes. His hair is all over the place, chocolate strands standing up every which way. Dark circles are under his eyes, a purple undertone mixed in. However, despite the lack of sleep that Harry seemed to be experiencing, he seems to be more relaxed. His shoulders aren't tense like they seem to always be and he just simply seems at ease.

Returning my attention back onto the city, I rest my chin in the palm of my hand as I close my eyes once again.

"Don't go falling asleep."

The right side of my lip tugs upwards as Harry's voice cuts through the air. It's soft, not as loud and prominent as it usually is.

"I wasn't," I replied, still keeping my eyes closed. Harry lets out a huff of air through his nose.

"Certainly appears that you are."

Slipping open my eyes, I turn to face Harry whose attention is still ahead of him. His lips are the faintest bit turned upwards and I can see the twinkle of smugness in his eyes.

"I was simply enjoying the silence which was wonderful before you decided to start speaking."

At this, Harry turns to face me, his gaze peering down at me. He gently shakes his head, more of his curls falling out of place.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asks, turning back to face the skyline. My eyes stay on him for a second longer before returning back to the urban scenery.

"Not really? What about you?"