Silk || hs

Hope in Humanity Restored

My eyes widen as I take in his bruised and bloody knuckles, seeing them clearly for the first time, "Oh my– Harry, I'm so–"

"No," he sighs in frustration at having to keep me from apologizing again. "No, it wasn't your fault. He had it coming to him when he stepped into my house thinking he could get away with it again. I told him to get out, but he wasn't having it and he attacked me. The fool was too drunk himself to put up a real fight, but he still came at me and I was forced to defend myself."

"Did anyone else see?" I ask, hoping that Harry wasn't stupid enough to have this fight in private. If he did, then that boy can say whatever he wants to make Harry look like the villain. Harry nods solemnly and I release the breath I didn't realize I was holding. Thank God.

"Wait, so if you're not in trouble with the cops or anything like that, why are you telling me this?" The silence returns as Harry sits there contemplating his response and I can't help but get more and more nervous with each passing second. But more than that, I wonder why he even came back. He did what would have been expected of a decent human and then left like anyone else would. Why would he come back here when I'm not his problem?

"Well," he begins after a long silence, "I guess I came back because you need to know that it's not your fault; it's his. If it weren't with you, he would've done it to someone else. He proved that with the other girl, and I thought you should know that."

As Harry finishes, he looks up at me and I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude wash over me. This guy, who I've only spoken to a total of three times, not only physically rescued me, but also came back to make sure that I was mentally okay. I don't know if it's my emotions catching up with me over this whole thing or what, but I begin to feel the stupid prickle of tears in my eyes. I'm not a cryer by any means, but Harry's words get to me in a such a way that no matter how hard I try to blink them away, I can't keep the tears from falling. I try to wipe them before they begin rolling down my face, but to no avail. The first warm drop of liquid crawls across my skin and I turn my face away from Harry so that he won't see. This too, fails.

"Hey," Harry mumbles quietly, moving from the chair to the space on the bed beside me. I turn further away from him as the tears spill relentlessly down my cheeks. If there's anyone I don't want to see me cry, it's him.

I expect him to try to get me to face him, but he doesn't. Harry just sits there silently, his knee brushing mine every few seconds. Though he doesn't say or do anything, his presence alone brings me a degree of comfort that I couldn't have hoped for. It is this side of Harry that I have seen. Sure, he's a bit of an ass sometimes, but this caring side of him is who he is. I just know it is. All that stuff that John told me can't be true. Surely, that's the act and this Harry who sits with me now is the real him.

Regardless of who Harry is or was, right now I couldn't be more thankful for him. It saddens me to think that he won't be a part of my life anymore, but after this night, I can't expect him to ever want to see me again. I acted like a fool in attempt to make him jealous or something, and now I have to face the consequences. This thought makes me cry even harder. I am now full-on sobbing shamelessly and Harry is seeing every second of it.

I don't know what makes me do it, but I find myself looking at Harry. Though my tears make seeing somewhat difficult, I can still make out his sharp jawline and his full lips, the sight of which, though blurry, makes me want to smile. When he sees me looking at him, Harry leans in just enough for my shoulder to brush against his. With this smallest touch, my chest feels like it's about to cave in and I can no longer even think coherently.

I don't know how or when it happens, but at some point, I come to find that Harry's arms are now wrapped tightly around me as I weep into his shoulder. My brain starts to freak out at my lack of recollection, but my body tells my brain to shut the hell up because this is the warmest and safest I have ever felt in my life. Eventually, the tears stop, but he doesn't make a move to move away from me, and neither do I.

So that's just it then, my last encounter with Harry is going to be him holding me to his chest in a hospital bed while I listen to his steady heartbeat through his plain black T-shirt. The whole situation is regrettable, yes, but this moment right now is one that I will hold onto for a long time. I guess I just like the idea that some people really do have goodness in them, even if they seem like they don't. It's hopeful to me, and right now, I could use some of that.

•••

Harry hugging me is all I want tbh

Thanks for reading and please vote if you can! :)
-kate🖤