Four.

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Harry mumbles a cuss as crouches next to me. "This is exactly what I didn't want happening."

I want desperately to hit him with a sarcastic remark but my mouth is full with sobs and air as I try desperately to fill my empty lungs.

I didn't want this happening either. I knew it was too good to be true for Harry and I to speak civilly with one another without something like this happening. I knew this would happen when I saw him, I was just distracted by how he had changed. We still have history and memories together and no matter how hard I have tried to forget them, I can't. They stay with me whether I like it or not.

"Skylar," he says softly, cupping my chin and forcing me to look at him.

I refrain from jerking away when I see the hurt and guilt clear in his eyes. He should be guilty; he's the one who made me this way. Since I met Harry, I've constantly been inches from my breaking point. Reminders of him throughout the years I was away were continuously nagging and tugging at my mind.

"Please, don't do this. I don't want the past to influence the way you look at me now. I want us to be friends," he pleads.

His touch is light on my chin and his eyes hold mine with intensity. The pavement is cold and slightly damp under me. My cheeks are stinging in the cold air because they are soaked with tears. I shiver from the cold and Harry picks up his jacket from the ground next to him and wraps it around my shoulders again.

"You... you can't change the past," I croak as I pull his jacket tighter around me, too cold to be bothered with matters of pride.  His scent that is set into the thin material nearly makes me spill a fresh flood of tears. The minty and musky smell fills my nostrils and images of me once being wrapped tightly in his arms play before my eyes; my head pressed to his chest and breathing in his scent deeply.

"I know I can't," he agrees, sitting down on the pavement next to me. He crosses his legs in front of him and leans back on his palms. He looks at his shoes, picking at them aimlessly. He's deep in thought, probably reliving the same memories I am. "I would if I could, y'know."

I have no doubt that he would. I wish I could wipe away that year as well but it's not possible.

"Me too," I whisper. My breathing has returned to normal and the tears have stopped. I wipe furiously at my cheeks with my hands and wipe the wetness off on my jeans.

"What do you want to do about it then?" He asks suddenly and turns his head to look at me.

"What do you mean?" I question, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.

"We can't keep going on like this especially since it's inevitable that we'll see each other again. I am dating you sister after all," he unnecessarily reminds me.

I agree that this cannot happen every time I lay eyes on Harry, which will be more frequent than I had hoped for. The past is inescapable and I'm beginning to see that it haunts Harry as much as it does me. He, however, didn't leave his home and run away from his problems. He stayed here and turned his life around while I ran away. Me leaving probably made it easier for him, though. One of us had to go and I'm sure that if I didn't, Harry would have.

"Can we start over?" The words are out before I have a chance to process them. All I ever wanted was to start over with Harry, but before it was for a different reason than it is now.

"You'd want that?" He raises his eyebrows, eyeing me with curiosity.

"Why wouldn't I?" I shrug, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear that fell from my pony tail. "I want to forget that year and you do too, I can tell. It wasn't a good time for either of us, Harry."

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