Ready To Run // h.s

forty

  "I believe you," I said, not sure if I truly did or if I was just trying to make him feel better. 

  "I call bullshit, because you still look as concerned as before. It makes me feel awful that no matter what I say, I still can't get through to you." 

  "I'm sorry, okay?" I almost laughed. "I've been through a lot these past few months that have made me rethink a lot of things, and I'm going to be worried about this no matter what. You can promise me things, but at the end of the day, neither one of us can be completely certain of what will happen in the future. So yeah, I'm a bit worried."

  I felt bad for snapping at him. He didn't deserve it, especially when he always risks himself and puts me first, but I felt like if I didn't speak my mind and vent then I would eventually completely explode. I groaned loudly and grabbed fistfuls of my hair, dropping my head and closing my eyes. What started out as a peaceful morning was now becoming complicated and a perfect recipe for a headache. 

  He stayed silent, so it was difficult to try and comprehend what he was feeling. I didn't stick around, turning back around and going through the sliding glass doors and back into the bedroom. From there, I flopped into the unmade bed and laid with my face buried down in the pillow. How was it possible that we did a 180 in not even five minutes? That must have been a record for us. 

  I heard the door opening a few moments later, then the opposite side of the bed sinking down. Harry turned toward me with a grunt and I could practically feel his eyes on me, but I didn't look up at him.  

  "Hey, woman, look at me." He was smiling. 

  "No, I'm annoyed with you." I said stubbornly. 

  "Annoyed with me, huh? How am I so annoying?"

  "You're annoying me right now." I complained. 

  "I'm annoying? How am I so annoying?"

  "You know what you're doing right now. Trying to get me to laugh." 

  "Well, I think it's working," Harry smirked. "Is it working?"

  I glared at him and gave him the middle finger. To that, he only laughed even harder and wrapped his arms around me, barricading me completely so that I had nowhere to go. I squirmed and struggled against his arms and then finally stopped struggling once he started to tickle me, giggling as he realized that he had won the battle.

  "Fine, fine! White flag!" I surrendered. 

  "That's what I thought." He said smugly. "Now, c'mere, I wanna show you something."

  Hand in hand. Harry led me through the house back into his living room. He was wearing a blue and white striped sweater and I was in another sweater of his. We sat in the living room on the leather couch and he rummaged through a storage chest, pulling out a few magazines and setting them in my lap.

  "What are these?" I asked, glancing down at them. To my shock the cover of all of them were beautiful portraits of Harry- ranging from ones where his hair was luscious and long to when his hair was cut short. I opened the one magazine and began flipping through the pages, amazed at all the beautiful shots they had gotten of him.

  "It's the Another Man magazine. Back in late April I did an interview for them, and my first shots. Then as time progressed and my hair changed, we did some more shots. It took a lot of time... but it means a lot to me. These copies are the first ones that went into print." He explained.