I left the tea to steep and I walked into his room, lightly knocking against the door frame to wake him up a little bit. I sat on the bed on his side, and he frowned when he felt it dip, snuggling into the blanket.

"Wake up, or else you won't sleep at all tonight" I said shaking his shoulder lightly, hoping that he had got the sleep he needed.

He turned until he was lying on his back, and I knew he had woken up.

"Come in the kitchen when you're up, alright? I made some tea" I told him before disappearing out of the door.

I didn't have to wait long before he came, sitting down in front of me, wiping the sleep out of his eyes with his index. He took the cup of tea I had slid his way, wrapping his fingers around it and soaking in the warmth of the cup, not making an actual move to drink it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked him, after having let the silence in the room persist for way too long.

He looked down at the table, not really doing or saying anything that could've at least proved me that he had heard me at first.

"I saw..." he said after a while, glancing at the spot on the counter where I had put the report, letting his sentence fade away before having to pronounce the word he had deliberately ignored for years. "I, uh, I didn't really expect that. I... I freaked out, said some things I shouldn't have said. She left."

I nodded slightly, automatically glancing at the report as well. Maybe I hadn't made a wise decision by letting Grace take it home. Maybe I should've just kept it, and given it to Louis at the first chance given. "What did you say?" I asked him.

The short reply came right away. "Don't ask me that."

"Then tell me something else. How do you think I can be of any help to you if you don't talk to me?"

"I, uh, I think she's done" he said shakily pushing the cup of tea in the middle of the table, passing his fingers through his hair and leaning against his hand, hiding his face from my view.

I put my hand on his forearm, caressing him lightly before letting go. "Harry, I know that this is your first relationship since that and that you're scared, but I can assure you that relationships don't end for little arguments like these."

He winced at the words. "It wasn't little. I'd never fucked up that bad before." He blinked fast to keep himself from crying again.

"I think we both know that you didn't mean it, and I'll tell you something more, I'm quite sure Grace knows you didn't mean it as well" I replied, hoping to reassure him.

"What if she doesn't want to take me back?" He asked, and his hesitation broke my heart.

"I don't think she's let you go at all."

"How can you know?" He fired back.

"Well, for starters, because I'm here. And because she waited for me to come here before leaving. She cares about you, Harry. And apparently everybody can see it but you."

He looked down again. "I don't see how. I'm a fuck up."

"Harry" I said, trying to refrain from scolding him, "You know that's not true."

"Do I?" He rhetorically asked, "Have you taken a good look at my past seven years?"

I sighed. "What happened isn't your fault, you should know that by now. She cares about you, because you're an amazing person, and everybody who gets to spend some time with you can see that."

"You don't really mean it."

I stopped myself right before snorting, or letting out any other sound that would've made him retreat in his shell and end the conversation. "Listen, you want to talk about the things you did wrong? So be it" I said, and he looked up in surprise. "I don't think you're handling your relationship in the right way."

He seemed completely taken aback by what I had said, sitting up straighter on the chair.

"I know that it's the first time you try in years" I continued in a sweeter way, to let him know that I wasn't against him, "and I also know that the idea of accepting someone else - and opening up to them - can be really scary, trust me, I know. But not doing any of that is not a solution." He tried to say something, but I stopped him before he could. "I don't know what exactly you expect, but talking to her and talking to me are two very different things. I'm your sister, I've been knowing you my whole life, I don't need you to voice every little thing that goes through your mind, because I understand you, and I know how to tell whether you're sad, or upset, or whatever. She's been knowing you for only some months, it's not the same thing. Unless you talk to her, she won't know what's up. She's a smart girl, she might sense that something is wrong, but how is she supposed to tell what it is if you don't give her any clue? Do you understand what I'm saying? Your entire relationship is based on secrets. I know that there are... some... that are hard to voice" I said, trying with all I could not to glance down at his arms, because I knew he would've seen, "but you can still tell her the little things. You're not having a good day? Tell her why. You're feeling sad? Tell her. And so goes on. These may look like little things to you, but it helps build trust, and it'll also help you to be more open. The truth is, you wouldn't have freaked out like that at the sight of the report if you had been less closed off since the start. I'm not telling you to tell her everything, because that wouldn't be right of me, and I know that there are some things that should be told only when you're ready, but at least the little things, Harry. They may seem irrelevant to you, but they're really not. She's a good person, I'd hate to see you two break up because of the lack of communication."

He frowned. "I don't see how anyone would be interested in that."

"Harry" I breathed, "I'm not the only person in the world that cares about how you're doing. I know that you've had some of the... people that should've been on your side turn their backs to you, but it doesn't mean that everyone else will. She cares about you so much, and I know you care about her as well, I can see it in your eyes. Besides, I hadn't seen you that happy in years. Don't ruin it because of something as little as that. Just talk to her tomorrow, alright?" I told him, and he nodded slightly, taking into consideration my words.

He reached out to grab his cup of tea, that had grown a little colder in the middle of the table, and started sipping the warm liquid.

"How are you feeling?" I asked him, letting my long nails tap on the table a little tune of my invention.

"Sad, mostly" he replied, "I think I hurt her."

"You'll talk to her tomorrow, and hopefully make it right. You should relax a little bit now, you're way too tense." I stood up and turning around, pouring myself some more tea. "What are you thinking about? You look concentrated."

"Just..." he hesitated a bit before replying, "Do you still have the number of Dr Thomas?"

The question took me aback, and I frowned while trying to remember. "It's been a while, but somewhere probably. Why?"

He shrugged, trying to play it off as not that important. "I've been thinking about it a bit. I don't... I don't think it will get better unless I try."

I nodded. "I'll search for it and send it to you. Maybe you should go to sleep now, something tells me you haven't been sleeping properly lately. I'll settle into my old room until morning."

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