above is a picture of rosie :)
I get out of the bed, hoping I don't disturb the sleepy boy next to me. I ever so slowly walk to the door, I must resemble a zombie right now. I rub my eyes as the light of the bathroom overcomes me, soon adjusting to it. I shut the door.
"Shit." I say, looking at Harry's watch that was sitting near the sink. It was 1:30 a.m. And I still haven't gotten five minutes of sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about Harry's mom, her face when she woke up and realized Harry was gone and only to find a simple note on the countertop remarking that he'd left. Or my mom, getting a call from dad saying id gone missing and he has no clue why, when he knows he was the reason all along. I'm sure by now the families have joined forces on trying to find us, asking everywhere and everyone if they'd seen us.
I cringe at the thought that I had just realized. My father is a police officer, so he has the right to demand camera footage. The train station, bank, airport, lax. Everywhere we had gone, he could manage to see.
I change my thoughts again, and I think about my little sister, how I was an inspiration for her, how I taught her how to braid recently and took her to the playground. She was the only thing that took my mind off of my dad, besides being with Harry. She was filled with joy and happiness and she has only cried when her beta fish died 3 days after she fell in love with it. I remember her screaming down the stairs into my room, jumping on my bed sobbing.
I can't imagine what her reaction was to me missing. Gone. Forever. Never even said goodbye.
"Fuck" I whisper to myself, sitting on the closed toilet with my head in my hands as soon as I realize I was crying.
Memories pass through my head as I cry and cry, thinking about the time we went to Disneyland. When we went to New York, and i carried Melanie down the streets because she was terrified of all the people walking around.
My eyes come out of my hands, and focus on a curly haired, tall figure slowly cracking open the door. Harry's eyes squint against the bathroom light, his green orbs finally adjusting as he kneels down in front of me. "Rosie, what's wrong."
"Nothing. Just frustrated. that's all."
"Come on now." He says, taking my hands that were moist with tears, and holding them in his. As I direct my eyes downwards at our hands, his were darker and more worn. He had soft palms, but his knuckles had crinkles and his fingernails were butchered. .
I look at him, admire his features as he kneels in front of me. His hair was straggly from sleeping, his tattoos peeking front underneath his black shirt. And his eyes, oh his eyes. They never fail to amaze me. Even in this moment, they are glossy and dark, a bit bloodshot from the bright bathroom light, but still gorgeous. I refocus, realizing what I've done.
"Why are you in here." I say.
"I woke up when I heard a noise, so I looked over to see if you were okay but you were gone. I got up, and then realized you were in here because I saw the light on." I look anywhere else but towards Harrys green eyes that were burning a hole through mine.
"But I guess I could say the same for you." He finishes.
"I'm sorry, Harry." I apologize.
"It's okay." He stands up, holding my hand as he walks me back to the bed, gliding slowly under the covers as I follow, still holding onto his warm hand as comfort. He looks at me, my eyes probably red and puffy.
"Are you scared?" He mumbles. I could feel his warm breathe hit my face as he slowly breathes, relaxing.
I don't respond.
