Disarray [H.S.]

Chapter Thirteen

Don't you see me I
I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you
And don't you need me I
I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you

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The drive to Harry's house felt like it would never end. I didn't know where his house was, so I didn't know how long we'd be in the car for, but what I do know is that it felt like it had been hours already with hours more to go.

The tightening in my chest was a type of discomfort not everyone can explain. It was as if someone had slashed open my body, ripping my ribcage apart in the process, and had reached in, wrapped their fist around my heart and were squeezing with all their might, trying their hardest to turn it to dust.

Something I've found myself feeling quite frequently this past week.

I kept pulling at and adjusting the seat belt going across my front thinking that that would take away some of the discomfort I felt, but of course it didn't so I was forced to sit with this feeling.

I wanted this, though. I wanted to be able to take control of situations like this, like going to someone's house and not be so afraid of it anymore. I wanted to associate new memories surrounding the concept of having friends and having people I could talk to, and going to their houses and other places with them. I really wanted that.

And Harry made me want it even more. He confused me, he really did. My brain still screamed at me every day that it was all a lie, that he didn't care for me at all. That he was using me for something. I can't help what my brain tells me, but I also can't help what I feel in every fiber of my being.

I had no idea how it was possible for someone to make me feel things I hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. Within the short week I've known him, he made me feel like I matter. When I talked to him, he actually listened.

It felt like he could help take the pain away, like he had the capabilities to truly remind me what it felt like to be happy.

I can't help but think he showed up on that bridge when he did for a reason. I wasn't a believer in fate or destiny or fairy tales, but I do sometimes think that things happen for a reason. He very well may be my reason, my why. He quite literally saved my life, that had to mean something, right?

Although the concept absolutely terrified me, I think I've started to genuinely consider Harry a friend. A true friend. I truly enjoyed his company, I liked talking to him, seeing him, hanging out with him, all of it. All of the things friends usually do. So, yeah, I'd consider him a friend. Only in my head though. I wasn't ready to admit that out loud. Admitting it outloud made it even more real, and the thought of that alone had me again tugging at the seat belt strapped across me and adjusting how I was sitting in the passenger seat.

"Are you alright?" The sound of Harry's voice has me immediately relaxing my tense shoulders like it was a reflex.

I turn my head from the window to look at Harry, and I see he's taking quick glances at me through his sunglasses, trying to also keep his focus on the road but wanting to check in with me anyways.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good," I nod my head quickly and try to sound convincing. But I'm sure by my somewhat squeaky voice that I definitely sounded a bit nervous still.

I felt bad that I was so evidently nervous to be at his house. I wish I could explain that I wasn't scared of him, I was scared of myself, of my past. I wasn't sure how I'd react to being at someone's house again for the first time in two years, even if that person was Harry. I didn't want my emotions to get the best of me. The anticipatory anxiety I felt was overwhelming, but I was trying my best to smush and mash it down, ignore it so that I didn't make Harry think I was scared of him.