Eucatastrophe ~ h.s.

✗ twelve ✗

I drop my bag down on the floor and kick my shoes off to the side of the foyer so they aren't in the way. The house is silent as we stand still in the entryway. Harry simply closes the door and leans back against it, resting his eyes. I, on the other hand, am staring up at my boss and friend with concern in me. He looks exhausted to say the least.

"What are you staring at?" Though his eyes are closed somehow he knows I'm looking at him.

"I'm worried about you. Harry, you look exhausted." I point out. There are dark bags underneath his eyes and he can go no longer than five minutes without a yawn escaping. He needs sleep. He opens his eyes, looking down at me with a small smile on his lips.

"Shouldn't I be the one worried about you?" I shrug. With a grunt, he pushes himself from the door and walks further into the house with me trailing behind. "You seem oddly, calm, if I may say. I'm not complaining, just concerned." I lick my dry lips and enter the kitchen, taking a bottle of water that Harry was extending to me.

"I don't know; the mind is a weird thing." I hop onto one of the bar stools and lean against the countertop. "I should be a hysterical mess and part of me really wants to if I'm being honest. There's part of me that wants to crawl into bed and just cry, but I also don't want to move backwards. If I go back to how I was before I wouldn't like it. I see now how you saw me those three weeks and I'm ashamed."

"Shay-"

"No, Harry, I am and there's nothing for you to apologize for. I should be the one apologizing." I don't know what came over me this morning, it could be the sneaky visit from the hospital psychiatrist or the meditation she had me practice whilst Harry was getting breakfast, but I feel better, mentally. "And you're right, you should be concerned why I'm acting like this." Worry immediately etches across Harry's features as he approaches me.

"You're not bottling everything up inside like you did the last time, are you?" I can't help but chuckle lightly.

"No, I'm not going to do that again. From now on I propose a no secret household." Harry raises his eyebrows at me and a small smirk forms on his tired lips. "I, Shay Nichols, promise to speak the truth from my mind, no matter how harsh." Harry laughs and nods his head.

"Okay, I, Harry Styles CEO," I roll my eyes, shaking my head at him, beginning to wonder why I even tolerate him, "promise to speak the truth from my mind, no matter how harsh." I raise my hand above the surface of the island and outstretch it for Harry. He follows in suit, shaking my hand and keeping ahold of it. "Shall we start now?"

"Why not?" I say, leaning back in the chair and opening the water bottle. "You first."

"No, you."

"Okay, when am I going to return back to my apartment?" I wonder. We've spoken about how long he expects me to stay, but I'm running low on clothing items. I'm beginning to wear sweatpants and t-shirts all day, everyday.

"Honestly?" I nod my head, that's the deal. "Hopefully, never." I quirk my eyebrow upward; I can only imagine what he's getting at. "This is going to sound incredibly unprofessional and maybe a bit crazy, but I don't want you going back to that apartment. There's too many bad memories there, plus a very large vodka stain on your carpet, which also probably ruined the paint on your wall too. It's also too far away and if anything happens to you I'd never forgive myself. That being said, I think you should move in with me."

"What?"

"You heard me. I think you should move in with me. Actually, I don't think, I know."

"Do I get a say in the matter?" I ask, a small smile tugging on my lips. I know that we've only become "friends" about a week ago, but I have known Harry for almost four years of my life. And I'm basically living with him already.