the journal - h.s.

63

“You shouldn’t be,” I observed how he dared to move his thumb over my hand softly, sending a wave of burning sparks up through my wrist, arm, shoulder, chest, heart. It was such a careful and soft move I had barely even noticed it, if not I had seen and felt it with my heart.

“I’m the one who should say sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just wasn’t ready as I thought I was and,” and I had made the utter most horrible mistake backing away from you like that. But I knew it was something more that bothered him. It had to be. I couldn’t have brought him down like this right? Had I? Was this entirely my work?

My eyes briefly searched over the room, as I remembered Jenny’s voice over the phone telling me Harry had thrown something against the wall in here. On the floor in the corner of the room lay a black apple laptop - the one he had picked up at Aria’s. It had to be the object, which he had torched; the screen was cracked and it was laying in an unusual position for an expensive laptop like that one.

“I’m such a fuck-up,” Harry mumbled and leaned his head against my hand in his. His forehead was burning against the skin of my palm.

I couldn’t help let a smile settle on my lips as I realized that was probably why we clicked. Of all the things we had in common this was probably the most significant key; he needed me, and I needed him. Whether I was brave enough to admit it or not - I needed him just as much as he needed me. Because we were both ‘such fuck-ups’ as he had called it. It scared me - the amount of feelings, the amount of trust, the amount of vital importance - there were combined with well a relationship and maybe even love. But I was pretty sure I had once heard that love was about putting others’ needs before your own. And that was to be honest the way I had ended up here.

“You can’t possibly beat me in that category you know. I think I’m scoring highest point in messing things up on extreme levels actually,” and then he did that thing - without knowing - where he looked up from his hide in his arms and looked down at me. With his green tired eyes looking over me with wonder in his gaze. Like an out of place lost angel still managing to look over you in a protecting manner. And that missing piece in my heart felt perfectly into place as if it had never been gone.

“I don’t believe you,” he stated with that slow raspy voice, as he narrowed his eyes at me. I could see how tired he was; his eyes were darker both the iris and the spaces around his eyes. His skin was lighter than usual everywhere but around his dark eyes too - creating an even stronger contrast to the dark circles. And that lively blush which usually danced over his cheekbones was far gone, instead replaced by patches of lightly pink irratated skin - probably signs left behind by salty tears.

“Well you should just know. First thing,” I looked into his eyes then. My heart beating faster than ever, as I was about to say the words I had been meaning to tell Mr. Calvin about, but had been too afraid to. Too scared to state them out loud. But even with perfectly-messed-up Harry looking down at me like that; I still felt safe. And I still felt as if I could say anything to him.

[harry’s pov]

“First thing,” she stopped before continuing. I feared immediately she would disappear then. That afterall this was just me losing my mind. But her eyes remained still to look at me, her slightly cold hand remained in my grip, and the side of her body as close to mine as she could get it was still there.

“I think I might be afraid to … you know fall in love?” As usual she took me completely by surprise. And my heart did a thing I had practically forgotten it could - it started beating warmth out into my body, so I was actually able to feel those butterflies which always followed along when she was this close to me. Fall in love?

“I know it sounds stupid. And it probably sounds really pathetic too. But I’ve thought about it - and I think that has to be it. I’m afraid to… to fall in love again simply. Isn’t that messed up? I’m so fucking scared that I’ll end up hurting myself, or you, or I don’t know. I just… this is crazy. I’m insane I know that, please don’t let this scare you off? Oh gosh it probably will. But I really think I am. And I'm so sorry. Because it’s not you Harry. No you’re… you’re. You’re perfect, you’re like some lost angel at a crossroad unsure of where to go. I mean I know you’re a mess-up too, but we both are - you see?” Suddenly the words burst from her like a waterfall.

But all I could do was just watch her amazingly beautiful eyes, which I were determined never to forget the sight off.

How they had that perfect almond shape, how dark and thick her eyelashes were, how the color of her eyes seemed to change depending on whether a car was driving by down on the street or not - making the lighting different in the room.

I could understand her words but not comprehend them. My mind had just completely shut down; all I could think off was merely the fact that she actually was here. And if I started thinking about it, I knew I was acting selfish right now. She shouldn’t be here with me. She would end up hurt. I knew that. But my mind was utterly and finally just quiet for awhile watching her. I forgot about the email from my father, about my mother, about my mistakes, about the chance of hurting Amber somehow again.

And therefore I didn’t think it through either what I said or did next. It just happened like was it some deeply buried natural reaction; a move for survival really.

 

[amber’s pov]

I had barely finished my speech before his lips formed the most perfect whispered words; “I think you’re afraid of falling out of love actually.”

And before I could even get a chance to object or merely understand his lips sealed his words with mine as witness. Kissing him this time felt different. It felt deeper, more filled with unspoken cravings, and buried feelings. It whispered a promise, which I couldn’t hear at the moment because of the screaming need for him. But I didn’t care about anything; it felt right. His feverish warm lips against my cold ones felt perfect and just so right.

I would probably even have teased him with how he had obviously been chewing mint gum recently, but not even that could make me break this connection I had needed more than I had feared. Nothing could dim this, nothing could.

I pushed his hair gently back and buried my hand in the area at his neck. I could feel his pulse against my fingertips and the heat from his skin, which was almost burning to the touch.

Tensions started building up in my stomach - but not like last time. They weren’t based on fear this time. Not entirely anyway. I had missed him more than I wanted to admit. Missed the light scent of smoke he had, the way his skin was perfectly smooth, how his body reacted to mine.

I could feel he held back even though I felt as feverish as him; I couldn’t stop thinking it felt like he was kissing me as if for the last time. As if something was about to change. Or maybe he hoped I could drown out everything else, which had occurred these past days, and months, and years, and lifetimes, that could manage to leave an angel like this.

It was almost too warm with his grey hoodie, heated kissing, and the radiator. But I couldn’t focus on that. Only when Harry suddenly moved his lips down my jaw did I managed to focus a little.

I couldn’t stop smiling, “Harry? Did you just hiccup?”

He kissed his way down my neck making me dizzy, "no."

But there it was again.

A giggle escaped my lips at the adorable sound and his denial, “you are aren’t you?”

I managed to cup his wonderful heated face and lifted it gently to look at me. I watched him carefully, while his wild green eyes with that new more intense spark flickered in his eyes. I watched his lips, having to control myself with all I had not to attack them again. And just as I didn’t think I could keep away any longer - he hiccuped again and broke into a smile following.

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a/n: this early update is for you guys being so absolutely amazing and sweet - so thank you for that :)