Incandescent | H.S

Part Ten: Sunflowers and Sunday Strolls

Exhausted. You were exhausted and your resolve had depleted. The feeling was sudden, but an overwhelming wave of it was brought on by your outburst at Harry. You never wanted hostility or harshness to ever be factors of your relationship with him.

But he pushed you, and you pushed him back out of reflex. You felt immensely guilty at your comment about his ex and by looking at his face you could tell he was filled with regret about how this conversation had panned out. How it had gotten to a point where you were jittery and anxious in your already fragile state of mind.

You sighed, still too restless to take your previous spot on the couch but wanted to heal your bond. With everything that had happened, you felt ill and on edge with the fact your grip was slipping from him and your peaceful nirvana that had occurred since his existence entwined with yours.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Your voice was soft as you addressed your wrong-doing.

Harry leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs as he fiddled with the rings on his fingers. His gaze was burning holes into the aged wood of his coffee table. "I'm sorry, too. I've got a lot of pent up frustration and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

You were both unsure of what kind of resolve would become of this. Carefully treading around the other so as not to start anything to upset the aura of your companionship. Harry was upset that he'd gone in and let his anger on the situation with your ex and towards you explode. You were upset because you could still feel the dizziness of the drugs your ex had slipped into your drink and felt pressured by what you thought Harry's expectations may be.

"I need some time to think about all of this," you expressed. You were unsure if Harry's question about wanting him still warranted an answer so you felt the need to tell him you'd need space to figure it out.

"I understand." Harry finally looked at you and his cloudy eyes made you yearn to be close to him again. His mind flashed to what the rest of his night looked like and all he pictured was you going back to your house and leaving him all alone. He felt panicked but knew it wasn't his place to stop him. But you picked up on his fear right away.

"I don't want to leave... I'd never want that. I just mean I need to take a breather from this while I figure out my emotions." You went and sat next to him, taking his tightened fist and relaxing it with delicate touches. "Thank you." You were so grateful for him. Every day and every night but especially last night. "For looking after me. Getting him away from me and keeping me safe."

He gingerly pulled you into a hug, "I'd do it again. God, I feel sick just thinking about it."

His body tensed again and you scooped his wily emotions up and held them in your palms. Encasing his beautiful, bruised face in your hands. "Harry, I'm okay. I'm not going to let him get to me."

"You're acting like he didn't drug you."

"No, I'm not. I'm just grateful you were there. You came and saved me before anything drastic happened, and I'm holding onto that."

You spent the rest of the night wrapped in Harry's embrace. He was attentive and made you cups of tea and fed you sour patch kids while you watched aimless TV together. You watched him laugh at corny lines and admired how carefree he was, wearing a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, his legs crossed and resting on the coffee table. You were tucked into his side while his arm was slung around your shoulder, long fingers toying aimlessly with your hair. The simplicity of it all made you aware of how un-simple his life really was and it made you wonder if maybe you could deal with it after all.

"You're staring," his deep voice sounded, his eyes never veering from the screen. He could feel your eyes on him, feel the prickling sensation that your admiring gaze gave him.