perspective | wroetoshaw

Chapter 26

I feel like I've been sobbing into Dylan's shirt for what feels like hours, but in reality it's only been about twenty minutes. I don't know why it's hit me so hard this time, they've let me down so many times before, but for some reason it just hurt that much more this year. 

Dylan had gotten up a few minutes ago, I wasn't sure where but I'd been too caught up in my own thoughts to pay much attention to it - that was, until, I heard voices in the corner of the room. 

"She's over there," one of them said.

"Thanks mate," the other spoke, his voice becoming louder. Was that - 

Harry. 

He slid onto the sofa besides me, making himself comfortable, looping an arm around me, pulling me into him, rocking back and forth gently. 

"Eds...I'm here now," he whispered, his spare hand rubbing a soothing pattern on my back, a grounding technique I found very useful. "I'm here."

I knew I was too hysteric to tell him what was wrong, but I tried anyway. Through big, separated sobs, I managed to blurt out some random sounds, in an attempt to string together a coherent sentence. "My parents - t - they're not gon - gonna be able to vi - visit me on m - my b - bir - birthday," I cried, making useless patterns with my fingers in an attempt to distract myself. 

"Oh, Eddie, I'm so sorry," he mumbled, I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was talking into my hair, his arms still coaxing me, making me feel safe. "What do you need me to do? Do you want anything? Need anything?"

"No," I whispered, giving my head a small shake. "Just you. Just stay here for a little bit longer."

"Of course...I'm not going anywhere, Eddie. I promise you."

-

We ended up staying on the sofa for another thirty minutes, before I started to get cramp in my legs, needing to walk around and shake it off. It woke Harry up from the daze he'd been in, sat up straight like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Wh - what, are you okay?" He asked, he sounded so confused, it was almost endearing. 

"I've stopped crying, so I guess that's something," I sniffed, forcing a smile on my face as I stand up bending my legs to loosen them up. Truth was, I probably felt just as shit as I did when he had arrived, but he didn't need to know that. 

"But how do you feel?" He asked, propping himself up. Damn, maybe he was better than he let on...

"Fine, I guess. Hurt that they can't come up to see me, but what can I do about it?" I ask, shrugging my shoulders, trying to act as if it wasn't a big deal, trying to convince myself I didn't care. 

"When is your birthday? We'll make it your best one yet," he tells me, his voice eager, excited. 

"August nineteenth, not too far away now," I tell him. "But you don't have to make a fuss, just being with you is good enough for me," I smile, my legs feeling alright so I make my way back to the sofa, back into my original position. The blanket was still a tiny bit damp so I ended up folding it over, not wanting any reminders of the last hour or so. 

"I'll make it a good one, I promise," he grins, his arms finding their way back round my waist, gently pulling me closer to him, his chin resting in the crook of my neck. 

"I'm sure you will," I agree, grabbing hold of one of his hands, squeezing it a little. 

"Can you believe it's been two months, nearly?" He asked suddenly, changing the subject moments after I finish talking.