Tattoos Together || Larry Stylinson

Chapter 31

He laid me gently on the mattress, only to turn away from me afterwards and purposefully walk towards the desk. He rummaged around in the little mess, which mainly consisted of his exercise books and papers, only to triumphantly hold a little, white booklet up in the air.

"Sooo, how about 'Driving Miss Daisy'?"

I sent him a shut-up-and-come-here-glare, which he understood directly. Pouty faced he threw the book back on the desk and sat down next to me.

"Do you want me to hold you?"

I nodded, tucking my smiling lip between my front teeth for a glimpse of a moment and rolled over, so Harry could wrap his arms around me. He pulled me close, his fingertips leaving soft touches along my stomach, his chest flush against my back, his warm breath in the crook of my neck. I could already feel myself falling, feeling more and more sleepy, safe, comfortable and cared for.

-

We were still lying there the same when I opened my eyes again. Harry wasn't asleep, he was watching over me. Attentive and caring and maybe anxious too.

"Hey." I breathed to draw attention to myself. "Hi." He smiled. "You know that you are beautiful sleeping?" I turned to face him. "Thanks, love."

"Is it better now?" Harry asked, a frown drawing deep lines of worry across his face. "I'm alright, darling. Really. Was just all a bit much today."

He made questioning eye contact as he brought my hand up and gently kissed my knuckles. An unasked question hanging between us.

"You know, I had to get up early today. -Because of an important call... The clinic we're...I am going to requires psychological assessments. So that the patient is really sure and has no regrets. If he can even do that... regret it. I mean, if there's even an after, because what if..."

"Hey, do you doubt?" Harry asked, brushing my fringe out of my face.

"No." I let out resolutely. "It's just all so much and I'm scared, Harry. I'm really fucking scared." My voice was shaking and I wanted to hold on to something because I had the feeling that not only my voice but the whole rest of me would collapse into a desolate field of rubble in the next few moments. My fingers gripped Harry's wrists and he just nodded softly. Understanding. He understood that I was dissolving into all the ugly remnants of my original self. He understood and I couldn't understand why.

In his novel "To Kill a Mockingbird", Harper Lee wrote that you never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view. -until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.

Harry was a part of me. He understood, because he felt what I felt.

"It's going to be alright, Loubear. I'm sure it's going to be fine." He whispered and it didn't make anything better, but it forced me to smile, because that's what he always did.

"I spoke to the psychologist. He said that in my case a remote diagnosis would be sufficient. He has my medical evidences. Mark sent everything in and took advantage of his being a medical. I just have to sign, 48 hours before. I will also get to know my medical companion then."

Harry didn't say anything and we both knew that was for the best. I made myself as small as humanly possible and pressed myself against my boyfriend's chest, longingly searching for protection. I wanted to hide. From the world. From all problems and the future and from myself.

Harry hummed sweet nothings into my ear, trying to calm me -and he was my safe-place. He was there, no matter what. If I was the surge, then he was the calm sandy beach where my restless waves ebbed and slowly silted up.

We laid there, on the bed, the room tinted in golden light from the sunset outside and there was nothing, but us, watching the shadows grow longer on the walls until they stretched along the carpeted floor.

"Wanna sit on the roof?" I asked at some point. "Forget this here and be on top of fucking everything?"

Harry smiled tiredly and nodded his head.

-

He had his head on my shoulder, fumbling with the strings of my hoodie. "Lou?"

"What is it, Sweetums?" I turned my head so I could more or less look at him. My nose nudged his hair and I giggled briefly. Everything was different up here.

"I met Eleanor today. She came up to me and asked me about you." I swallowed.

"She asked how you were and what you were doing, where you were and if you were happy. She seemed worried about you, but I didn't tell her anything. I don't really know what happened between you two. I said that you may talk and that I'll tell you about our conversation, but the rest is up to you two."

"She hurt me."