quaint [h.s.]

five

I take a deep breath and firmly press down on the green button. Nothing happens. I press it again, multiple times and still nothing. Tears form at my eyes and I'm suddenly hit with the fact that it's a possibility that I'm here forever.

I throw the black remote harshly at the wall and immediately started crying. I don't care who's watching me or who's not. I feel a hand rubbing up and down my back in attempt to comfort me. I let the tears fall but I don't make noises. I fall into Harry's chest and my tears stain his shirt, I don't think he minds.

I force myself to bring my eyes up to meet his, but he's not looking at me. He's staring out of the window, in the distance at nothing really. The only thing that fills his eyes is confusion. He looks more confused about everything, I would be confused if I were in his place too.

Harry sighs and rests his chin on my head, while continuing to soothe me. I've calmed down enough to stop crying.

"It's okay.." Harry starts.

"It's not okay. It's not!" I say as my voice cracks, my face still buried into his chest.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled and wrapped his arm around me and ran his fingers down my arm, still trying to help me feel better.

I can thank Harry for all he's did so far. He didn't have to do all of this just for me. I feel like I've know Harry for awhile but it's only my second day of knowing him.

Later on, I told Harry that I was fine so he gave in and left me alone. I hate it here. I know sooner or later, I'll have to make him dinner because that's what housewives do.

I don't want to be a wicked housewife and let him live off of bananas. I groan and pull the covers over myself. I'm such a fool for thinking that I could actually go back and meet my father. I'm so ashamed for thinking that it was even a possibility because it's clearly not.

I take my hair down out of it's halo braid. I need to wash my hair tomorrow before it gets greasy and stinky, killing everyone in my path. I take my brush from my purse and brush it down before placing it in a tight ponytail.

It's not how the women wear their hair but I could care less right now. I'm so sick of wearing dresses and skirts already, when can I go back to jeans and T-shirts? I'm not going to be able to make a living here.

Someone knocks at my door again. Harry of course. "Dinner!"

I groan and sit up. "I know, I know. I'm coming." Now I have to make Harry dinner.

"No, I made you supper," Harry says proudly when I opened the door.

"Oh," I say, clearly surprised, "Thank you."

I walk into the kitchen and sit at the table. He's fixed some roast beef and cabbage. How come he can't prepare breakfast but he masters this?

I take my fork and start eating the food that tastes quite great. Harry starts to eat too.

"Harry, I'm sorry for yelling at you the way I did."

He shrugs, "It's fine, I should've stayed quiet."

"Why do you always do that?" I drop my fork.

He glances at me and stops eating and furrows his brows. "What?"

"You always take the blame. You put yourself down. You shouldn't be like that," I tell him.

"Maybe I don't want to be a pain for you..I'm surprised you watch me that much," Harry responds, his smirk evident and still in the growing.

I roll my eyes, that huge ego is quite annoying. "Don't flatter yourself."

Even though he is a pretty beautiful sight. But he can't know that, just so he'll boast all night long.