Red [h. styles]

Fourteen

14

The first time Jena saw Harry cry, he was crying along with her.

Jena had agreed to come over at noon, but it was five and she still hadn't shown. Harry was getting worried, and after having three calls go to voice mail, finally decided to go to Jena's.

"Red?" He asked, knocking on the door.

Harry heard shuffling inside, the door finally opening to reveal a red-eyed Jena.

"Come in," she sniffled. "I'm sorry, I should have called, but you were the furthest thing from my mind."

"What's wrong, love?" Harry asked gently, sitting next to her on the small couch.

"My grandmother died," Jena said weakly. She was shaking like a leaf, and Harry captured her in his arms, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear.

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered, and a fresh bout of tears sprang to Jena's eyes.

"Me too, Haz, me too."

"Want to tell me about her?" He asked after a moment. "That always helps for me."

Jena nodded, face screwed up in a mask of pain.

"My dad left before I was born, and my mom isn't the stablest of people. She has trouble making smart decisions, and so my grandmother had to help raise me. My mother would forget to feed me for long periods of time, not knowing what having a child would entail, and so my grandmother eventually got full custody of me. She taught me everything I know, making sure I wouldn't make my parent's mistakes. Her name was Marie, but I called her Nana. She taught me how to make informed decisions, how to weigh every option before deciding. She impressed upon me the importance of education, of knowing what you'd be getting into. I guess that's why I enjoy drawing up contracts so much, it means I'm helping people understand exactly what they're signing up for. Everything I am I owe to her. And now I don't even get the chance to thank her."

Jena cut herself off with her tears, they were streaming down her face and clinging to her jawline. Her sobs wracked her body, like she was trying her best to stop but just couldn't. Her sobs went through Harry like physical pain, and she clung to him like a lifeline.

"Let it all out," he murmured against her skin, pressing kisses where tears once fell.

"You couldn't stop me if you tried," Jena laughed, tears coloring her voice.

"I'll never try." Harry whispered. "Your grandmother sounds like a beautiful human being."

"She was," Jena nodded against his chest. "I'm sorry you'll never get to meet her—you'll never find out why Jenavieve is spelled with a J."

"Doesn't matter," Harry brushed it off, "I love the name either way. And... I love you."

"I love you too." Jena smiled through her tears, kissing his lips with desperation. She needed to feel something, anything, anything but the emptiness that currently resided in her.

A tear ran down Harry's cheek, and Jena wiped it away with a slight smile.

"Why are you crying?" She whispered, and Harry looked down.

"I don't like seeing you upset. It makes me upset."

"You're such a softie," Jena tried to tease, but her voice caught on her tears.

"It's allowed," Harry said, running a hand through Jena's hair.

Jena held onto Harry as tightly as she could, as if she was scared that if she let go he would fade away.

Harry extracted himself from her as carefully as he could, and she looked up at him in despair.

"I have an image meeting in twenty minutes," Harry said reluctantly, "and I really need to be there. I'm so sorry to leave you, but you know how to reach me if you need me."

I need you now, Jena wanted to say, bust instead she nodded, resigning herself to silence.