Disarray [H.S.]

Chapter Eleven

Secondly, I wrote one damn thing so what's the point in telling him? I still felt slightly embarrassed, so I just decided to keep it to myself for now and keep the topic of our conversations in and out of school away from that.

Speaking of, Harry made it a habit this week to walk with me from physics to my next class, English, every day and I was getting used to the routine. I was also relieved that I hadn't seen Charlie or Zayn in the hallways at all. I don't think I was ready to face them yet, hear what they might have to say.

I was still struggling to accept what Harry told me, that he doesn't hate me for what they said, and that not even Charlie or Zayn hate me. I wanted to believe Harry, I really am trying to, but there's still that voice in the back of my head, fighting its way to the front, screaming at me that there's no way in hell I should trust him. But, I'm ignoring it the best I can.

Another habit Harry had developed was texting me each night. At first, I was confused because it was just a random fact about the solar system, but then he explained how he just wanted an excuse to text me after just having seen me a few hours before. So, that's how he began texting me random facts each night, not just about the solar system, but about everything really varying from space, to history, to music.

It was also a really good way for me to keep my mind distracted, not be left alone with my thoughts for too long. I appreciated any moments of peace my mind gifted me, and Harry also seemed to be present, over the phone if not physically, each time I was given that luxury. I wish I could tell him how grateful I was for those moments of peace, but I'd have no idea what to say. He wouldn't understand the absolute turmoil that is my head to be able to grasp how truly thankful I am.

Now, I was sitting in my last class of the day thinking about the plans that Harry had for us today. Yesterday as we were walking to class, he invited me over to his house to watch a movie. I immediately tensed up, wanting to say no. The thought of going over someone's house made my insides turn to cement. Like I was bolted to the floor and forced to watch as someone carved open my chest and squeezed my lungs, cutting off my oxygen flow and not letting me breathe. I couldn't breathe. The feeling scared the shit out of me.

Harry took notice of my fear, and grabbed my hand to get me to give my attention back to him.

"Hey, it was just an idea, I'm not forcing you to do anything. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. I'd never want to put you in that position. I mean that," he cranes his neck down and bends his knees slightly so that he's eye level with me. He placed both of his hands on each of my shoulders, almost like he was afraid I'd just turn and run away.

I didn't know what to respond with, my lips may as well have been stapled shut since it was impossible to move them. I felt paralyzed. I could feel my palms becoming clammy and my heart rate was increasing rapidly and the inside of my cheek was becoming raw from how aggressively I was chewing it.

I find it really hard to meet his eyes so I keep my focus on his chest, memorizing the patterned shirt he wears. It was white and covered with outlines of dainty feminine hands. They were all making plenty of different gestures.

Ooh! That one's even holding a cigarette, how fascinating. That one is-

"Macey," his deep voice cuts me off, and his soft hands grasp my cheeks very delicately, like if he puts too much pressure on them I'll shatter. His hands cover the entirety of my face due to their size, and he slowly tilts my head back so I'm being forced to look at him.

"You stopped breathing, are you alright?" His voice was laced with worry, genuine concern for me, and I couldn't help but slump my shoulders as I released the breath I was holding. I felt myself relaxing under his touch and even tilting my head slighting so I was leaning into his hand that still rested on my cheek.