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Clara.

Fighting wakes me up. And when I say fighting, it's shouting.

My hands grip the door and I open it wider, walking to the railing of the stairs. The noise gets louder as I move further down the stairs, so I stay hidden.

"I'm not going to let you," Anne states firmly, my head peering around the corner. The only thing I see is Harry's tense back as he looks away from me.

"She won't live if you keep her locked up here, mom. Let me take her to England and I'll help her with whatever she needs," Harry fights back, and I feel my stomach drop.

They're talking about me and where I'll live. It really hasn't mattered to me if I stay here with Anne or go with Harry, but I feel like if I went with Harry, I'll have more of a distraction.

I'm torn. I really want to be with my parents again, but Harry has me thinking. And I really didn't want to think.

"Harry, she's sick and needs care 24/7. She could cut when you aren't with her and you might walk into a situation you never thought you'd be in," Anne disputes, my heart clenching. My jaw drops, suddenly shocked at the fact Harry could walk in on me potentially killing myself. And my stomach turns as well.

Just thinking about Harry finding me, just wanting to be with my parents again, it makes me nervous. He doesn't deserve that, but now I'm rethinking myself.

"I'll take care of her. I want to mom, and she'll be with me," Harry refutes, and I freeze at the feeling of tears falling down my cheeks. I didn't even realize it was crying.

"You can't, Harry. No. She's in need of care, and from a nurse who has seen more than a fair share of suicidal patients, she stays here. I'm not going to change my mind," she says, and I choke out a sob. My head falls into my hands and I curl up, my mind reeling.

I'm not that bad. I just cut when I feel really bad. It's getting better, the past week helping. Harry's been with me every day and I find myself...happy. He's making my smile and laugh when I didn't want to ever again.

"Shit," I hear Harry, my arms taking in his hands. He forces me to wrap my arms around his neck and he grabs my waist. I feel like a child as he lifts me up, my legs moving around his waist to secure myself to him. But I'm close to him and I feel safe.

"I got you," Harry says, my body shaking because of my crying. He moves us into his bedroom and I cling onto him, not wanting him to let me go yet. He sits down and I curl closer to him, my head in his neck and his arms wrapped around me securely.

But he does something he's never done before when I've cried.

He sings.

I don't recognize the song, but it must be one of his. All I do is listen and feel my heart melting rather than clench, his voice angelic. His voice is amazing.

Then I feel his plump lips kiss my temple and I just about melt, dissolving into mush. It's almost unreal how much I like Harry, but he's...Harry. He deserves someone else.

"I didn't mean for you to hear that," he tells me, my hand resting on his chest.

"It woke me up," I tell him, his lips releasing a sigh.

"Today, well, it's the last possible day I could have bought you a plane ticket on the same plane. I didn't think I needed the private jet so I left it in England. I-I promise you, I'll talk to you whenever you need," he tells me, my head lifting. He looks into my eyes and I only find it in me to nod, his lips curving.

It comforts me to know he'll want to talk to me, because I feel like I need that kind of support right now. He's the first person to make me feel okay.