Adore [H.S.]

42

Into The Flood - As Tall As Lions

HARRY

I wake up before her. Her arms are wrapped around me. Cautious to not wake her, I unwrap Isabella from her strong hold on my waist. She stirs in her sleep, her eyes fluttering but do not open. "Shh, don't wake baby girl." She hums in her slumber. I manage to disconnect her body from me.

The duvet falls off her body. She shivers instinctively. Her hands grab out for me, searching for my absent warmth. Carefully I slide my pillow into her arms. Isabella wraps her arms around the pillow, hugging it to her body. She murmurs in her sleep; a content smile on her face.

I check the time: six am.

My hands grab the first pair of pants that I can find, pulling it up my body quickly. I walk out my bedroom door, shutting it after I leave. A long sigh escapes my lips once I am out of the room.

There's a door beside my bedroom that leads to a small balcony. I walk outside, the cold air hitting my bare skin. The sunrise is halfway up the sky, it's colours of orange, red, and yellow painted across the sky. I pull out the pack of cigarettes that I stuffed into the back of my pocket. Once the stick touches my lips, the anxiety that has seemingly embedded itself within me dissolves.

I inhale the sweet taste of nicotine. It's potent tar coating my lungs. My lungs fill itself with it's smoke. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. My body leans over the rail of this small balcony. Everything always seemed quieter out here. The realities of this world seemingly disappearing once I've walked past these two french doors. It was as if I've found Narnia. A secret escape from all of my troubles and issues.

My mind wanders to last night. The hurt and embarrassment that rimmed Isabella's eyes. The way that she looked at me, pleading me to ease her of this embarrassed state caused by my dickhead of a step-father. Step-father. The word left a bitter taste on my lips.

With thoughts of last night, comes memories of Isabella's confession. The feeling her few wet tears that escaped her eyes was a feeling that I never wanted to feel again. Her eyes, brown irises that held so much wisdom and admiration, pleaded with me. Persuading me to open up with her. Give her a piece of my heart that, a piece that was reserved for her and her only.

A loud creak emits from behind me. I don't have to turn around to know who it is. Her rose scented shampoo floats over to me. "Harry?" Her soft voice cracks, remnants of sleep still evident. "Why are you out here? It's cold."

She walks over to me. The large duvet wrapped around her. Isabella's hair is a matted mess on her head. Pieces of hair stick out from her bun. Loose strands sticking to her forehead. Even with messy hair and sleep-deprived dark circles, she still looked beautiful.

"I couldn't sleep." I take another drag from my cigarette. It burns my throat but the feeling is intoxicating.

She leans against the railing. The duvet is held up to her nose, her brows furrowed in thought.

We stand out here in silence. The minutes tick away. The sun has completely risen and life begins to awaken.

I take out my second cigarette. Being with my family for long periods of time always caused me to smoke more than I normally would. Stress smoking? I don't even know. Quite frankly, I didn't give a fuck.

Isabella looks over at me. No judgement in her eyes. She watches as I light the end of the cigarette and continues to watch as I take a drag. "Can I have one?" She asks me.

I give her a questioning look. Forgetting for a moment that she smoked. I don't say anything to her as I pass her an unlit one. She thanks me and sticks it in her mouth. I hold up the lighter. My eyes making contact with hers. She watches as I light, our eyes not once breaking contact.