"That's good," Clara responded, but she was still looking at Harry, trying to gauge his mood. It was difficult to read him now, a contrast to how evident the emotion had been in his bloodshot eyes when he had shared one of the deepest, most hidden parts of himself to her. Clara licked her lips before reaching her hand toward him and brushing her fingertips against his elbow, a silent beckon for him to come closer. Harry looked at her with a hard gaze before his face softened and he sighed, sitting beside her on the bed.
"Did they say when you can leave?" Harry looked at his dad. His palms were flat against his thighs, an uncomfortable action of his that Clara had noticed him do once or twice before. She pushed her luck, hoping that the intimate, hour long moment they had comforting each other on her couch was a true sign that he was beginning to feel more comfortable with her, and let her hand cover his. Harry snapped his head towards Clara and she could feel his father's eyes on her, too, but she simply ignored them and let her fingers slip in the slots of his. There was nothing wrong with her giving comfort to him, especially when she could sense his unease.
"Tomorrow," Des answered after a moment, looking away from their hands. His eyes were even brighter than before. "I told them I was ready to go today, though. Maybe I can convince-"
"No," Harry narrowed his eyes. "Don't argue with them, Dad. They know better than you do."
"Sure they do," his father smiled.
"This isn't a joke," Harry dug his short nails into his thigh and Clara responded by rubbing her thumb into the back of his hand. "Please, just... Listen to them."
Des laughed under his breath and looked at the girl seated beside his brooding son. "You've got to teach him to have a good laugh, Clara."
"I'm going to try, but he's a tough one to crack." In more ways than one.
She saw Harry's eyes roll and the hint of a smile tug on his lips. "It's not my fault that neither of you are funny," he muttered. Clara gasped, placing her hand over her heart to feign hurt; she parted her lips to deny his insult but it was right when the nurse returned to the room to supply Des with a fresh IV.
Clara and Harry stayed for about an hour. Clara found a deck of cards in one of the waiting rooms when she left to get a drink of water, and brought it back so they could play, a way to pass the time and lighten the tension that was practically radiating from Harry's body. She pulled up a chair by the bed and dealt the cards as Des told them about one of the nurses who he suspected had a crush on him. Clara smiled at the stories he shared as they played a few hands, and eventually Harry's lips twitched up, too. She loved watching him around his dad; it made her heart ache at the thought of how he would act around her if he ever loved her.
After giving their goodbyes, Harry drove her back to her apartment. Clara was surprised for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours when he parked the car by the curb and leaned over to plant a kiss to her cheek.
"Thank you for coming with me," he murmured softly, then pulled away. Clara bit down on her lip and nodded her head, not able to find her voice as a soft blush painted her cheeks. Harry watched her intently as she got out of the car, his lips parting slightly as though he wanted to say something else. He didn't, though. Clara stepped out into the chilled air and glanced over her shoulder to watch him drive away. Her mind raced over the thought of how their relationship would be now, a small sense of hope fluttering around despite her conscience's warnings. It's not going to end well, her mind told her, but somehow her heart knew better than to listen.
YOU ARE READING
Till Dawn (HS)
Fanfiction"To have her in his bed, in his arms, with her breath on his neck and her hair tickling the corners of his mouth -- he was finally able to think of his life as not only just a dark hole of violence. Maybe, just maybe, his life could mean something m...
