Perspective

Chapter Forty Nine.

He then stole my towel, tore it from my body and threw it across the room from where I stood next to the bed, gasping in shock like the bloody towel had thrown itself and he pulled the covers back; shuffling underneath them to lay on his back, smacking his hands against his cheeks with a worried look and went "Oh my god! Where did your towel go?! You're naked! Quick! Better get under the blankets!"

I can't stand the fact I couldn't even be pissed at him because it was so fucking cute.

Adorable green eyed smirky son of a bitch.

I gave in and got under the covers because I couldn't bare just standing there naked, and I could have slapped that coy little smirk off his face when I laid my head on his chest and he wrapped his arm around my back to pull me closer.

Needless to say, I never ended up getting clothes because that cuddling lead straight to falling asleep.

Two. This is the very moment I was scared of.

There was that foolish part of me that hoped after we had sex it wouldn't change how I felt.

That I wouldn't feel closer to him, that I wouldn't want to get ever closer to him. But I do. There's absolutely no stopping it and this is exactly what I told Harry happens in these situations when we first met.

The story goes the same every time and as usual, I'm the one that's far more attached than he is. I'm not absolutely brain dead, I realise Harry must have some kind of feelings towards me even though I can't understand why the fuck he would.

I think he does care. But I just don't think it's the same way for him, as it is for me.

I really think I could fall in love with him, if that's not the rabbit hole I'm falling down already.

I think the thing with Harry is that he's always keeping one foot out of the door, even when he does care. My issue has always been that when I care about someone, I not only stand with both feet inside the house - I lock the damn door behind me.

I trust that he doesn't have bad intentions, I do genuinely think he's a good person. But good intentions and a good heart can still break someone else's, even if they don't mean to.

But I've been miserable for that long, I think the most selfish thing I've done in a long time is holding onto this feeling with him. It really does feel too good to be true and it probably is, but I'd like to savour it until it hurts me.

I just wish he'd stop giving me that false hope, with the way he behaves like this means more to him than it actually does. I'll catch myself thinking that this could be different. My brain just won't let me fully believe that someone could really want me.

I wish my mind was kinder to me.

It's not all his fault though, it's mine too. Because even if there was that chance, my brain would ruin it. I'm too damaged.

I'm like a car that's a ticking time bomb waiting to break down. Just because I run okay some days, doesn't mean there isn't still that mechanical problem under the hood that's going to cause the whole thing to blow up someday.

Maybe that's why I cling to moments like right this very second with a death grip, because I know how fleeting and temporary they are. I may be getting a brief respite from the suffering but I know it's around the corner somewhere.

Falling in love doesn't fix that.

I told Harry before, a pretty guy with nice words doesn't take away all your problems.

They can sure feel nice for a while though. I should count myself lucky I can at least experience this for the moments that I do.

I continue laying there, unable to fall back asleep after my mind went on another one of it's treasure hunts for the worst possible outcomes for situations that don't even exist yet; but found myself getting brought back to reality and distracted by Harry.