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time to heal

Clara.

"Harry, what is going on? News about you is everywhere. You guys haven't left the house in weeks. What is going on?" I hear Anne say, my eyes watching the scene at the front door from the top of the stairs.

"I can't...explain. I know you're worried but I have to help Clara with things," Harry explains, my hands letting go of the rail to sit down on the step.

"Why can't you tell your own mother? What is going on? I haven't heard from either of you in weeks!" she nearly yells, my lips sucking in a breath.

"Mom, I can't tell you!" he yells at her, her hands grabbing his shirt.

"If you don't tell me this instant, she's coming back with me where the police told me to keep her," she says, and I feel my stomach drop. I'm in more pain than I could ever imagine, but Harry has helped me through everything.

"She miscarried," Harry barely says, my lower lip taken between my teeth. She has a right to know. We were just worried about publicity due to me being 18 and him being older.

"Harry Edward," his mother sighs, my hands running over my face.

"So I stayed here to make sure she was okay. I didn't want that to get out. You're the only one who knows aside from the doctor I called in to make sure everything is okay," he says, my eyes looking over at them.

"You impregnated a mentally unstable young girl, Harry! I am so ashamed of you," she says, my heart breaking even more.

"I didn't impregnate her intentionally mother! And so what, if she stayed pregnant?! I'd never leave her side, just as I showed her these past weeks," he stats firmly, my tears falling down my face. I've cried too much lately.

"Now, please go. I need to check on her," Harry says, Anne and him saying things I drown out as I cry.

It's not long before I feel two hands lift me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. He carries me to our room and I stay on him as he sits, his hands holding me close. My eyes squeeze shut and I let the tears fall again, wetting his shirt with the little droplets.

"I'm here. I'm always here," he whispers, my hand grabbing the back of his neck.

"Can you sing to me?" I ask, his lips curving against my cheek.

"Of course," he whispers, kissing my cheek a few times before I hear him start to sing.

It's not a song I'd expect, but it's none the less amazing. Only One by Kanye West, a song meant for his child but it means the most to me. I'm his only one.

Harry sings to me the rest of the night, continuously switching positions. Now, we lay beneath the sheets, my head resting in the crook of his neck. His fingers run against my back, my relaxation growing and sleep overcoming me.

I wake up in the middle of the night, the bed empty. My eyebrows furrow and I sit up, looking around to see if Harry is in the bathroom. When I see the darkness, I grow confused and I get up. My feet pad against the floor and I walk downstairs. I hear sniffling and I walk towards the kitchen, seeing a shirtless Harry leaning his hands against the counter. My heart breaks hearing him cry, not knowing exactly what has him so sad.

My body steps beside him and I set my hand on the small of his back, his body jolting upright. He quickly wipes his face, ridding the tears.

"Harry," I whisper, reaching up and cupping his face. "What's wrong?"

He sucks in a breath, my thumbs swiping away the tears that still fall. It's the realization he's been holding in his feelings; letting out the pain he feels.