4.4

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'you get mad and you break things, feel bad, try to fix things - but you're perfect.'

(issues - julia michaels)

-
A.

The heat of his body against mine was a sensation I'd missed, but never dared to forget - it was unforgettable. The way his hands traced shapes I didn't bother to take note of on the small of my back, his eyes boring into mine without fail. I'd missed the feel of his curls around my fingers and the silky smoothness of his skin beneath my fingertips, and the way I could reach to kiss the skin whenever I liked.

Over the past six months - you'd expect the wound to heal and the feelings to fade - yet they hadn't. As much as I'd tried to deny it; move along from Harry - it didn't seem to happen. In the time I'd known Harry, he'd pushed me to places and made me think in ways I'd never experienced. Deep down I'd known there was a part of me that would always, always belong to Harry - but I was glad I'd underestimated the part of me that did. I'd yearned for it to be forgettable, due to the false hope that he'd come back one day - but when I'd at last come to terms with the fact he wasn't coming back - he did. Harry came back, and suddenly I didn't care for the long term, for the consequences, or for whatever else. I only cared for the undeniable fact I needed Harry, and now I had him back. That wouldn't be compromised this time.

"Ana Grace," his voice came quietly, almost as if he was scared to speak any louder, while all I did was hum in response, refusing to move my fingers from his hair or break our eye contact, "We need to talk."

"No, we don't," I murmured, snuggling my face tiredly into his neck, "I just want to stay like this." And I did - I didn't want to face the inevitable conversation about what we wanted to do, and how we were going to be - I just wanted to bask in the simplicity of Harry - the ease I felt with his skin on mine.

"We do," he rubbed my back soothingly, lifting my chin gently from his neck to look back at him, our eyes meeting once more, "Where do you want to go from here?"

"I don't want to be without you," I said gently, the close proximity of our faces allowing me to feel his breath fanning against my lips as he blew out a deep breath, "I can't be."

"And you won't be," he returned, "I'm not going anywhere this time, I swear to you, Ana Grace."

"Can I tell you something I've never told anyone?" he spoke again, and I nodded slowly, eyeing him closely.

"Anything."

Harry exhaled slowly, "I have these dreams.." he trailed off, and my face fell as he continued, "I've been having 'em since I was little, but.. they got worse when I went back to England and I was on my own," he bit his lip, "I just.. I see things from when I was younger, with my dad."

"Harry," I murmured softly, unsure of what to tell him as his teeth dragged on his lip, not wanting to push him too far, "I'm sorry."

"I see him hitting her," he continued apprehensively, blowing out a breath, "hurting her; hurting me. Drinking, breaking things.." he trailed off, "and sometimes I realise that that's me."

I gasped, "No. That is not you. You would never hurt the people you love," I shook my head fiercely, "that isn't you."

"I think it is," he whispered, "I think it could be."

"No," I said simply, "you are so incredible, and you don't even know it. I know you'd never hurt me, or your family - I know you're a good person, baby. Don't compare yourself to him."

"I don't want to be like him," Harry said quietly, eyeing me intently, "I want to be good."

"You are good," I assured him "you're beyond good - don't ever compare yourself to him."

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