bleeding hearts [h.s]

twenty seven

There used to be a time that I would long for sleep so that I could dream of him.

I would see the boy I loved and go on adventures that seemed too grand for my life, I would wish that I could sleep forever. I heard an old myth that led me to believe that when I couldn't sleep at night, it was because someone was dreaming about me, and for the longest time I never had trouble sleeping.

Dreams became an escape to a life that was far better than the one I was living. Now, my dreams had become my reality and I did not have to sleep at all.

I had fallen asleep after an hour or so of packing my suitcase. It was late, just a little past midnight. I had been out all day with Rebecca, Malcom, and Harry; we had gone on a sailboat and it was beautiful. It was strange falling asleep on the peach and yellow bed that smelled like lemongrass and sleep. I could still feel the motion of the boat as I laid motionless in the dark. I didn't dream and it was peaceful.

I wasn't in a deep sleep; in fact, I was very aware of my eyes flickering under my eyelids. The sounds of this town were softer than that of the city's, and that I would miss. I was prepared to leave tomorrow; I had said my farewells and see-you-soons; and I was ready. It was my last sleep in this place, and I couldn't take it for granted.

A banging at my door woke me up. I rolled over in the yellow and peach covers and glanced at my watch. It was three in the morning. I leaned over and turned on my bedside lamp; a yellow glow filling the room. I rolled out of bed with sleepy eyes in a sloth-like manner. I shuffled to the door as the pounding knock continued. I opened it to revealed Harry standing in the hall.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, my voice raspy with sleep.

"Lily!" He cheered, falling through the threshold into me. He smelled like amaretto and oranges. My face was buried in the crook of his neck and I tried to shut the door softly. I pulled away from him.

"Harry it is three in the morning," I grumbled. I crossed my arms over my chest to hide the fact that I had no bra on--even if I hadn't done so, he was probably not sober enough to notice.

"Is it?" He asked with a stupefied expression on his face.

"Did you drive here?" I questioned, sitting on the bed.

"No," he said bitterly. "I would never drive when I am drunk, you should know that."

"I'm sorry," I told him. "I just wanted to make sure that you were safe."

"I walked," he said.

"From where?" I asked.

"A bar," he sang. "Two streets over."

I stood and put my hands on my hips, staring at the disheveled boy with curly hair. His grey button down was untucked from his pants and his hair was a mess; his cheeks were red--from the sun or the alcohol, I couldn't decide.

"All right, Haz, let's get you to bed then." I told him as I helped him out of his jacket.

He turned and gave me a cheeky grin, "Already trying to take me to bed? At least buy me dinner first."

I snorted. "I tried, you made me let you pay."

"Right," he chuckled. He fell back into the bed and allowed me to help him with his shoes. "You know; I usually sleep naked."

My cheeks darkened. "Not tonight.

"I like that I can make you blush," he said, smiling lackadaisically. "You look cute when you do."

"Thank you," I told him.

He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the side, before he kicked off his jeans, which left him in his boxers only. I helped him get under the covers. I walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled underneath the covers. I leaned over and turned off the bedside lamp and allowed my eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness. Harry turned towards me, burying the side of his face in his pillow.