Strawberries and Cigarettes ~ {h.s au}

chapter five

There is nothing anyone can do to get him out of this state of mind, he is just emotionally and physically exhausted, with his mind wandering a thousand miles a minute, he can't even put the words together he would want to say out loud.

He is always embarrassed by the actions of the night before, hating that he had even been in a situation of such vulnerability in the first place. Knowing that someone has seen him at his lowest, dazed and confused as tears stream down his face faster than rain falling from the heaviest cloud.

"Harry, honey," he hears a voice hum.

His head shoots up quickly for the second time that morning and sees his mother standing on the other side of the island, facing him with her hands pressed onto the table, leaning down to be eye level with him.

He hadn't even realized that he had moved to sit at the island. He thought he was still standing at the toaster, but now he is sat on one of the stools, with his plate in front of him, having no idea how he had even gotten there.

He feels a careful hand rub his burning cheek, causing him to slowly make eye contact with her, not sure if the tears he is seeing are actually in her eyes or if he is simply seeing his own. Much too tired to pull away, he finds himself melting into the embrace, completely forgetting about his toast.

He closes his eyes and seconds later he feels arms wrap around him.

This is the most affectionate he has been in years and confusion builds inside of him wondering why this nightmare has had such a hard effect on him.

"It was so bad mum," he says quietly before tears make their way to the surface.

He snaps his eyes open as he quickly looks up, not allowing anymore tears fall.

She just hums softly into his ear while holding him close, rocking slightly back and forth as they had just a few hours ago. She rubs his head lovingly and kisses his hair comfortingly, secretly happy that he is letting her hold him.

He lets go of his mother, before taking a deep breath and saying, "I'm going to shower."

Anne holds on just a few seconds longer, knowing it was probably going to be a while before he lets her hold him again.

"Alright love," she whispers quietly.

She lets go before stroking his check on last time as she takes his plate and places it onto the counter.

She is about to throw it away as Harry turns his body from the stairs calling out, "Mum?"

Quickly turning around, she finds Harry standing at the end of the stairwell while wiping a few stray tears with the bottom of his shirt. His hands on the banister as his left foot is on the first step as he mutters out a, "Thank you."

His voice is almost quiet, not even sure if she could hear him, but when her lips form a small smile, he knows she heard.

Before she even has a chance to respond, he turns and heads up the stairs, ready to scrub last night away.

~

Showers are one of the only things to help Harry when he is like this.

Maybe it's the warm water hitting his body as he stands facing the shower head, his curly locks being soaked by the water as he looks down at his feet. Breathing deep breaths.

In and out, he says slowly, in and out.

Or maybe it was the way he could stand for hours scrubbing every inch of his body. Erasing the pain that found its way through his inner subconscious and onto the surface of his porcelain skin.