He Is Broken. // H.S.

12~Sloppy Handwriting

"It was...," he trailed off, blush returned to his cheeks. "It was about you."

My lips parted and my eyes widened. About me? I remembered that day when we went to the meadow, he had told me he had nightmares about his family and the boys. But the most common ones he had, were about me and I haven't even known him for that long. We are in the fourth week of Summer, and I'd met him on the first day. Seems like I've known him much longer than that. Its a good feeling actually.

I cleared my throat, still processing every word he spoke to me. "Um, do you remember what it was about?" I asked sheepishly, a little bit of fear lingered around in my voice.

He snorted. "Like the back of my hand," he said, shaking his head. He waited a minute or so before speaking again. "Let's just say... I lost you, again."

My heart ached, my body shook, eyes saddened. He avoided my gaze, leaving me completely speechless. I honestly don't know what to say.

I began to open my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it. "It all felt so real, so I guess that's why was screaming for so long. But, it was all just a bad dream, right?"

I nodded. "Right, just a bad dream." My stomach was all knotted, making me feel queasy, but not to the point where you want to throw up. I still wish he could tell me what it was about, but I know it's too painful for him to explain. His mind his so dysfunctional and uncertain of everything, it's hard for him to comprehend anything now, if that makes any sense. It's like his mind is telling one thing and his heart is telling him another, where to the point he's completely and utterly confused. "Harry, do you still think that I would leave you?"

"No, not anymore. I mean, you made that pretty clear to me last Friday," he teased, a small smile tugging on his lips. I laughed lightly, which made him do the same. I have to admit, I did slap him a tad bit harder than I had expected.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that by the way," I sheepishly said, feeling the guilt rising inside of me.

"No, I kind of deserved it," he reassured me, sending me a wink.

I smiled in response. "So, are you okay?"

He simply nodded. "I'm fine," he said, shifting his body over to where his legs dangle out of bed. "I think I'm gonna go take a shower now." He stood up, dragging his feet over to his bathroom. "I'll see you later."

I nodded, smiling. "Yeah, that would probably be best," I teased. "See you later."

He sent me one last time, closing the door slowly. "Wait!" I said, grabbing his full attention which is now on me. "Uh, tomorrow I'll have to film all day, 'cause we're doing this Summer Finale thing, so do wanna have lunch with the other boy's?"

"Sure, sounds good," he said, nodding.

I smiled, relieved he said yes. "Okay, see you tomorrow then."

He ran a hand through his hair, nodding. He waved a small wave and closed the door, locking the lock behind him.

I still sat on his bed. I shifted my eyes towards the clock on his nightstand and it blinked seven-fifty a.m.. I began to stand up, but my eyes caught on something familiar that laid upon his nightstand, smothered with glass cups and beer bottles. I widened my eyes, stepping towards it to make sure that my eyes weren't deceiving me. I let out a sharp gasp.

The journal.

Has he really been writing in it? I thought he would just leave to dust upon an old bookshelf, never to be seen or written in. But, perhaps I was wrong.

My hand slowly snaked towards it absent-mindlessly, but I jerked it back.

'I can't read that!' I scolded myself. 'That is his business, and his business only!'