A/N: Slightly late update because this is my LONGEST chapter to date. Just under 13,000 words and the wait is most definitely worth it hehehe.
AT THE ____ PLAY THE SONG LINKED
Primrose's POV:
My arm threw across the bed in a weak search for Harry, my hand patting around until I felt the warmth of his body against my palm. I hummed out in satisfaction, nuzzling closer to him as my eyes fluttered open, falling on Harry's as he sat against the headboard, beaming down on me and smiling.
"Merry Christmas, Primrose." His voice was low and quiet, deeper than usual telling me he hadn't been awake much longer than I had. I slink my arm under Harry's, holding it close to my chest and moving my head to look up at him clearer.
Christmas morning, in bed with Harry Styles - could my life get any more perfect than this?
"Merry Christmas." I hum out, kissing his bare arm gently as my eyes drifted shut again. My body didn't want to go back to sleep, it just wanted to enjoy this moment, treasuring the simplistic touch between us as the day I'd been waiting for was finally here.
Harry slouched down slightly, moving my head carefully to rest on his chest as he wrapped his arm around me, my whole body now blanketed in his touch. "What time is it?" I whisper.
"Not time for you to get up, yet." Harry exhales a quiet laugh, stroking my cheek with his pointer finger as I too laugh minimally at his joke, my body too engulfed by this relaxed state to do anything more than quirk my lips into a smile.
"Harry..." I force my eyes open. "We can't stay in bed forever, it's Christmas day."
"I would stay anywhere with you if it meant we would be together forever." Harry leans down and plants a gentle kiss against my lips, the simple sensation making my stomach erupt with happiness, my skin tingling as he pulled his lips from mine. My eyes lingered shut for a few moments, and I could feel Harry's presence still very near as his lips gazed over mine.
"Forever isn't long enough with you." I reply, my eyes opening once again on two beautiful emeralds, the greatest gift I could ever receive.
"It's 8:55am." Harry spoke, my head falling to rest on his chest again, the steady incline and decrease moving my body every time he breathed, his heartbeat pulsating through his skin and into my ear: a mesmerizing sound, so delicate and calm.
I sat up, rubbing my sleepy eyes with the palms of my hands to wake myself up more, before I swung my legs over the side of the bed, slipping into a pair of bed socks. Going to stand up, a force wrapped around my waist, dragging me over Harry's body as he clung me to his chest. His lips showered kisses all over my face, Harry trailing down my neck with the feathered feeling, before he took both my hands and kissed them, leaving his lips there slightly longer as I laughed at the ticklish sensation running up and down my spine from his affection. "I'm can't believe I'm actually spending Christmas with you." He sighed to himself, kissing my hands once more.
"Why?" I question in confusion, sitting up to straddle his waist as his hands no longer bound me down.
"I feel like I'm not good enou-"
On reflex, I press my hands still laced around his to his mouth, cutting off his speech all together as I refused to let him finish that sentence. "Don't say that, Harry. Not today, not ever." I give him a stern look, and when his head bobs up and down, I smile down on him, moving my hands to kiss his lips once more. Rolling from his body, I stand up, Harry cringing slightly as I stretched my body, having to click my bones to relieve the tension created in them from sleeping.
Placing my hands out, I pulled Harry out of the bed, and he too stretched, no cracking entering the room making him smirk cockily at me. I tossed a jumper over my head, making myself look presentable to see the family at this early hour, rummaging through my suitcase to find a pair of joggers to wear too. They're all in the wash. Shit. I look around the room, cursing Harry in my head for his organisation as he takes our washing downstairs every morning and evening, meaning I can never double wear something.
Harry tosses me a bundle of fabric, and I look at him sceptically, unfolding it whilst he stumbled to get his long legs into a pair of joggers. "Wear them." He said simply. "I know all yours are downstairs."
Slipping into the oversized, grey fabric and tying the drawstrings to secure the waist, Harry tied his fingers around mine, leading me out the room and down the stairs. Festivities filled the air: a blaring hum of Christmas music hitting my ears as soon as I stepped out of our room, the sweet aroma of coffee, chocolate and croissants drifting into my nose, the fresh fire lit in the lounge making the sweetness bearable with the added earthy undertones. This feels like being back at home again.
Gemma and Anne were busy at work in the kitchen, dancing around to the songs as they chopped up vegetables for dinner later, our presence unknown to them until Harry spoke up.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" He yelled at the top of his voice, running and jumping into the middle of the room, waving jazz hands at them as they both lost their shit. Their souls literally left their body as they screamed in shock, Anne falling against the kitchen counter and Gemma stumbling back, a clashing sound ringing through the room as she dropped her knife.
"Harry, you dick!" Gemma yelled, picking up the knife and placing it in the sink.
"Gemma!" Anne scolds her for her language, and Harry laughs smugly. "And you, Harry. We're cutting with knives, that was extremely dangerous of you." She scolds him too, and Harry immediately straightens up, fiddling with his fingers as she spoke to him.
"Sorry, mum." He speaks, and the moment the apology left his mouth Anne engulfs him in a hug, Harry giving Gemma the bird as his mum had is back to her, to which she grabbed the knife from the sink, squaring up as if they were going to fight.
Anne caught eyes on me, stood at the doorway just quietly watching the family drama unfold, not wanting to disrupt anything. "Primrose my love!" She quickly steps away from Harry, racing over to me in her matching pyjama set. Her arms swung over my shoulders, embracing me in a tight hug as I hugged her back, noticing Harry watching from a distance and smiling at us both. "Merry Christmas!" She hums into my ear, kissing my cheek before letting me go.
"Merry Christmas, Anne." I returned the gesture, walking further into the kitchen with her.
"We have croissants, home made cinnamon swirls and yum-yums in the oven for breakfast, ready in about five minutes. Then, at about-"
"Did you say yum-yums?!" Gemma and Harry yell at the exact same time, their childish behaviour shining through their every movement as they got so excited about a sugary treat. I laughed to myself as I watched them bicker. 'Jinx!' 'Jinx again!' 'Ha, you can't speak.' 'Gemma we both know I won that.' Harry confidently speaks, yet immediately holds his hands up in surrender when Gemma pulls the knife out the sink again.
"Children, this is no way to act in front of a guest." Anne speaks sternly, folding her arms as she moved to stand between then, snatching the knife from Gemma.
"Primrose isn't a guest, she's part of this family now: the drama is a necessity in the Styles Twist household." She jokes, approaching me and bringing me in for a hug, whispering a 'Merry Christmas' in my ear, which I said back before she released me.
Harry lead me over to the table, seating me on a chair and tucking me in. As he went to go into the kitchen, I grabbed his hand, pausing him in his movement, making him look down at me in confusion. "Can I help with anything? I feel bad to just sit here." I whisper, Harry crouching down next to me so he could hear me better.
"There isn't anything to do. I'm just going to get the stuff out the oven whilst Gemma and Anne bring the drinks over." His voice trails into nothingness as Anne approaches, him rubbing my arm supportingly as he vanished into the kitchen. She sat down opposite me, spreading the variation of tea, coffee, orange juice, apple juice and water onto the table. Gemma joined us with some freshly cut fruit, spreads for the croissants and cutlery, before sitting next to her mum. Lastly, Harry placed the hot tray of baked goods down, the smell reminding me of Nanny Pam's treats she always makes me.
Home sickness has been coming and going a lot more recently, the family environment definitely bringing the sadness out of me occasionally. But, it's okay, because I am lucky enough to of been welcomed into a family like this, treating me like one of their own as we all sat together, eating breakfast on Christmas morning as if we hadn't only known eachother for nine days. Harry kept slipping his hand onto my thigh whilst we ate, stroking soft lines very close to my sensitive area. The first time I did it, I was so shocked I choked on my food, everyone panicking as I punched my chest violently, Harry still with his hand on my leg, trying to hide his laughter.
"This is amazing." I compliment, reaching for another croissant as I just couldn't help myself from how flaky and buttery they were.
"Thankyou, love." She replied, politely putting her hand over her mouth when she spoke as she was chewing, using the same language as her son, unaware of how much I love it.
Everyone finished eating, the general conversation falling onto their childhood Christmases which I listened to with such intent, adoring the stories about Harrys first holidays the most. Anne began to clean up, ushering us three into the lounge and not letting us help her. Harry bought me to sit next to him on the sofa, his body lounged back against the cushions as his arm rested over my shoulders, keeping me close to him. Gemma was perched in front of the tree, prodding at all the presents with her name as she segregated a small pile for herself.
Anne came in a few moments later, swatting at Gemma to tell her to stop being nosy. They both organised four piles of presents for us all, mine significantly smaller than theirs, but I didn't mind. Harry eyed all of his up, lifting a few and shaking them to his ear in attempt to figure out what they were. Next to my feet was a red gift bag, and the present Anne and Gemma had gotten me that they showed me a few days ago. I was excited to see Harry open his gifts, but when I noticed Anne move what I got her and Robin to her side, I shivered with nerves.
I knew there was no hard feelings about the accidental mistake I had made, yet, I couldn't help but worry for their reaction. Releasing those emotions of sadness onto another person is awful, and I would hate to remind Anne of such heartache.
Harry rubbed my arm soothingly, snapping me from my minor daze as I flinched my head to look at him. "You ok?" He whispered so quietly it was almost inaudible, and I nodded, shuffling even closer to Harry and resting my head slightly on his shoulder, in need of this comforting contact from him.
Watching as they all dove into their presents, I felt no rush to open mine, as I was enjoying seeing what everyone else got. The excitement beaming from Harry's face was so true and so pure, he mirrored such innocent behaviours as if he were still a child at heart. His fingers rapidly tore away the paper, revealing the treasure laying beneath. He opened a variety of gifts, from socks, to new recording equipment, to blank photo albums for all of his images, to a filled photo album made by his band of all the tour images, to crystals, to some expensive Gucci clothing.
"Primrose, look at this!" He would turn to me and say the same four words every time he opened a gift. And every time, I would take it from him, hardly having 3 seconds to examine it before he was shoving another gift into my hand. Looking up at Anne and Gemma, they were deep in discussion with one another about who the gifts were from and what they were, reading cards together and sharing the same emotions of happiness. It's hard knowing my parents are so far away, I wish I could spend more time with them.
My eyes trail down to the presents with my name on them, and I lift one onto my lap. It was a square box; minor rattling sounding if I shook it lightly. I felt the room go quiet around me as everyone's eyes fell onto me, looking at me with intent and excitement. Glancing up at Harry, he gave me a reassuring nod, before smiling at my obvious awkwardness.
"We hope you like it." Anne spoke gently, as my fingers untied the ribbon, carefully tearing at the paper and retrieving the box from inside. Noticing the image on the side, my eyes widened in disbelief as I looked up at them in shock, my jaw slack yet still smiling. Harry peered over my shoulder in curiosity as I rapidly opened the cardboard, retrieving the most unexpected, thoughtful gift I'd ever witnessed in my entire life.
On my lap, sat a beautiful, white, 1970's rotary telephone: the chord perfectly curled, the turner on the front crystal clear with bold, black numbers, the telephone neatly positioned on the top. My head darted around the room in shock, my mind not being able to form a 'thankyou' as I was in such a state of disbelief.
"Harry always tells us how much you love the pink one in your room, so we thought a white one would suit your lounge, or kitchen, or wherever you would like it." Gemma explains, and I shoot my head round to Harry, my heart aching from the admiration at how many little details he picks up on. That phone is one of my most treasured possessions, and him telling his family about how much I love it is just something very special to me.
"You really remembered my telephone?" I questioned in a whisper, a smile forming immediately when Harry nodded innocently. Leaning up, I kissed his cheek quickly, whispering a 'thank you' before I returned my body to the cushion of the sofa again.
"Anne, Gemma, this is beautiful!" I exhale in speechlessness, carefully wriggling the telephone back into the box so I didn't damage it. "Thank you so much, it's such a thoughtful gift."
I laugh to myself when Gemma and Anne high five one another in celebration that I liked it, before they both bought my presents to them onto their lap. Gemma went first, reading the name tag before she unwrapped the gift, and all I could do was wait nervously, clicking my knuckles in anxiousness at the added pressure from how amazing their gift was. Harry leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gauged better sight of the small parcel on her lap.
I saw her eyebrows lift as her head hung down, her mum sharing the same expression as they looked at eachother, then up to me. My knuckles were practically broken from how much I'd been twisting at them, my stomach flipping with an uncomfortable sick feeling as Gemma held the book in front of her.
"Primrose..." She exhales. "I've wanted this book for ages. How did you- Did Harry tell you- This is just- I mean- wow." She laughs at her fumbling words, and I sit forward on the sofa, feeling slightly eased by her words as it seemed she liked it.
In Gemma's hands, sat a copy of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.
"My friend helped me find it. I didn't want to ask Harry for help because he was busy on tour, and my friend suggested we look on your Instagram to see what you're interested in. There was a post with some reading books in, so I researched them, and then took a lucky guess at what to buy you based on the information I had." I explain extremely quickly, everyone staring at me with blank expressions. "Do you like it?" I croak out, not wanting to seem like a creep for looking that in depth at her Instagram.
"I love it!" She exclaims, running across the room and hugging me. "That's so clever about looking on my Instagram." She tells me, and I mentally wipe the sweat from my forehead in relief. "I love feminist literature."
As soon as she sat down again, Anne lifted her present onto her lap, and all at once my body froze, a deep breath rattling through my body. Harry immediately took my hand in his, reassuringly lacing our fingers together which helped calm me a lot, Anne now reading the tag on the present. She looked up and smiled, tearing open the paper effortlessly, and bringing the bottle onto her lap.
"Primrose!" She yelled, seeming like an accident when her hand flew to her mouth. My entire body jumped in shock, but I forced myself to stay focused. She held it up, panning it to Harry and Gemma who had no clue what the big deal about it was.
"Primrose, this is too expensive. We can't accept this." She shook her head, leaning across the room to pass it back. Shaking my head, I pleaded she kept it, gesturing for her to return her hand to her body again.
"What is it?" Harry asked, Gemma nodding to second his query.
"It's an Armand de Brignac, Ace of Spades bottle of gold champagne." I explain to them both, not sure how I should feel about everyone's reaction.
"That's like... £200, Primrose." Harry blurts out, and I just nod my head in agreeance, hearing Gemma suck in a sharp breath of shock.
"Primrose, you shouldn't spend this much money on us." Anne was slightly flustered, her skin running pink and her body seeming very startled and uncomfortable.
"It's okay, I know a guy who gets them cheap." I say simply, and Harry nods in understanding. However, Anne and Gemma just looked at me, almost in shock. It took me a while to understand why they were so confused, but then I remembered they don't know as much as Harry does. "Oh, no it's nothing like that." I realise what they must of thought I meant, laughing away my embarrassment, "I own a bar, and I know a man who works in the warehouse that stores all their product, so he gets them for a discounted price." My words pour from my mouth, both of them immediately grasping where I was coming from.
Harry reached down and bought his pile of presents from me onto his lap, grinning at me as he counted with his finger how many there were. The first present he opened wasn't much, it was just two of the disposable cameras he likes to use, because I figured he would be running low on film after touring. There was then an encyclopaedia of all the different crystals, making him squeal like a little girl when he opened it. A smaller gift was a tube of the Glossier lipgloss he kept stealing from me on holiday. Watching him open that gift specifically was magical.
His eyes lit up in a way I'd never seen before, him sprinting cross the room to show Gemma and Anne, the story of him wearing it for the first time tumbling out of his mouth as he swatched it on the back of his hand. They both shared his excitement, Gemma smelling the applicator as Harry read the description aloud on the box, Anne just smiling with pride at him. I love how accepting this entire family is, the love they radiate to one another is so special and unique, I have to count my blessings every day to of been welcomed into such a home.
We got to Harry's final present, and it was the 'main' one, if you want to call it that. Harry bought it to his lap, tracing his fingers round the sharp corners of the thin square, pulling the string from it effortlessly. I chewed on the inside of my cheek in nervousness, fearing this present the most out of all the ones I've given today, including Gemma and Anne. The paper tore easily, revealing an image.
Harry's hand stroked over the image of us printed onto the cover in silence, his lips forming into a line as he lifted it in front of him, noticing the opening on the side. Carefully, he pulled out the paper envelope, his hand freezing half way when he realised what it was. Looking at me with glossy eyes, I urged him to continue opening it: his large hands revealing the sleeve to the entire room. Inside the sleeve was a 12" vinyl, black with more personalised images at the centre that I sneaked from his collection a few weeks ago.
Harry looked at the back of the cover, not before he secured the vinyl in the protective cover, knowing how delicate they were. A single tear fell down his cheek whilst his eyes read over the writing on the back of the card, and I moved my hand onto his leg to ease the overwhelming emotions he was experiencing.
It was a personalised vinyl, filled with all of our songs that hold significant memories.
The back was a continuation of the cover photo, so that when you opened the vinyl case, it stretched into the full photo. Printed in bold, white writing were our favourite songs together, including: Walking on Sunshine, Edge of Seventeen, Dancing in the Moonlight, If I could fly, From the dining table - obviously - and I Wanna Grow Old With You from The Notebook, mainly because I still feel awful about ruining that moment with Harry.
Harry's arms flung around my body, pulling me close to his chest as I heard him sniffling between his whispers. "Thank you, P. You have no idea how much this means to me." I kiss his cheek, wanting to cry too just from how pure his happiness was, but forcing myself to keep it together. Gemma snuck the vinyl from his hand, taking it over to Anne so they could look at it whilst we shared this moment.
"So, you like it?" I ask back, urging Harry's face to sit in front of mine as my thumbs wiped away his tears.
"I love it." He replied, pulling my lips to his as he kissed me heavily, no movement from either of us being needed as everything Harry needed to say was being expressed through this simple contact. "How did you know I had a record player?" He questions quietly, keeping our faces close together so he could peck my lips again after he finished speaking.
"I saw you had one in your kitchen extension." I say shyly, remembering when I spotted the setup in the corner of the room flooded with natural light from the windows panelling the entire room. It was so clean and neat, the room joyful from the brightness of it, the record player set up in the far corner on a stand with the records stored beneath.
Harry reached down next to me, bringing his bag of presents for me to my lap. "Open them." He whispered, kissing my lips once more before he sat back against the sofa cushion. Undoing the delicate ribbon holding the bag closed, my eyes fell onto two, beautifully wrapped gifts, secured together with twine in a classic brown paper. There was a small, square box, and a rounded rectangle, signalling some soft of clothing. Curious, I bought the larger gift to my lap, feeling the soft texture of it between my fingers as Harry watched me eagerly. Removing the string, I excitedly tore into the paper, pulling out the spongey fabric within. I lifted it up, letting the folded clothing naturally reveal itself as it unfolded, a sharp breath of shock rattling my body as I realised what I was holding.
"You got me a wetsuit!?" I exclaim, my eyes unable to detach from the item in hand. It was a swimsuit style wetsuit, meaning there were no legs so it is ideal for warmer months. The main body of the fabric was a navy blue, with pink and sky-blue detailing up the sides in a floral pattern. A three-quarter length zip sat down the centre of the suit, leading up to a mock high neck. "How did you know my size? How did you even know I didn't have a summer wetsuit?" The questions fall from my mouth as Harry chuckles in amusement at my confusion.
"I knew you only had a full body suit because I saw it hanging in your house once, assumingly drying. I also know your sizes because you are my girlfriend, Primrose, it's natural to know things like that." Harry spoke proudly as I managed to peel my eyes from the present, in disbelief at how amazing this present was.
"And I know you like to surf." He adds on at the end, his eyebrows raising and falling in cockiness. "Open the other one." He urges my hand back to the bag.
Bringing the small box to my lap, I removed the twine and began to open the paper. "Harry, that wetsuit was expensive enough." I speak as I unwrap. "You didn't have to get me anything else." I scold lightly, bringing a black box onto my lap. "I feel bad that you felt the need to-," My speech freezes as I stare at one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen in my entire life.
In this small, black box sat a red crystal, perched proudly on a simplistic, silver band. Veins of minimal, black detailing were threaded into the red stone, bringing unique character to the ring. It isn't the sort of jewellery I would naturally gravitate towards, mainly because I'm not brave enough, yet, this ring speaks levels to me. Knowing Harry chose to share more of his passion for crystals with me makes me feel so overly lucky and trusted.
Harry took the box from me as I remained silent, my jaw hanging wide open as he bought the ring from the box, laying his hand under mine and ushering the ring onto my middle finger. My lips formed into a tight line as I fought every urge to cry, lifting my hand out in front of me so I could admire it on my finger.
"Harry..." I exhale, swallowing down the lump in my throat as I turned to look at him. "It's beautiful."
"The crystal is Red Jasper. Red Jasper means 'The Goddess', because it holds nurturing powers, and represents beauty." Harry explained softly. My heart ached from the overwhelming love I was feeling for Harry, and how badly all I wanted to do was tell him how I felt. The Goddess... nurturing powers... beauty... does Harry really think all these things of me? Red is a colour he has hardly ever seen me wear and talk about, and I know that to him, crystals are more about the meanings than the looks.
Wow. I literally love this man more than I love myself.
I noticed Anne and Gemma exchanging looks: Anne subtly straining her face in frustration as she motioned her head towards me, mouthing 'tell her', but Harry shakes his head in response. As soon as they saw me looking, they both relaxed awkwardly, Harry bringing his arm around my waist to pull me close to his side, and Anne looking to Gemma, who was busy reading the book I'd gotten her.
Harry quickly changed to look at me, taking my hand in his as he admired the ring, kissing the top of my hand lightly. "It looks stunning on you, P."
"I can't thank you enough, Harry. I love it so much." I tell him, leaning my head on his shoulder as we both looked up at the ring in admiration.
***
Harry took me upstairs so we could get dressed. I showered before him, whilst he rang relatives to wish them Merry Christmas and thank them for the gifts he received. Whilst he was in the bathroom, I pulled out the outfit I'd spent days crafting, knowing that I had to look nice on Christmas Day. I was quite proud of it, to say the least.
The skirt was something I wore to a party years ago, and the jumper was just something I found in my wardrobe. Out of all the outfits I came up with, this was the only one to translate into something nice. I hate when that happens - when you think of an outfit in your head, but when you try it on it looks awful.
Christmas music hummed from downstairs below as I brushed out my damp hair, pinning it back to start with my makeup. Moisturising my face, I noticed my phone screen light up with a notification. At the same time, Harry emerged from the bathroom like a God: his body glossy, toned and tan as a trail of steam fell out from behind him, his emeralds a vibrant green and his hair a floppy mess. He picked up my phone and passed it to me, him too hearing the notification but not looking at what it was in respect of my privacy. Respectful as always. I thanked him, reading the message on my home screen.
My face soured and my skin went icy cold at the words, my breathing hitching as my body hurdled through memory after memory of fear and pain. "Primrose?" Harry quickly raced over to me, meeting my side as he noticed my drained complexion. My eyes stumbled to meet his, no words being able to leave my mouth as I panned the phone screen round to face Harry.
Reluctantly, he took my phone; as soon as the screen light hit his face, his expression stiffened into anger and rage.
From: Unknown Number
Sent: 12:14pm
Merry Christmas, Primrose. I realised a few weeks ago that you'd blocked my number, so I got a new phone and a new number so I can text you. You need to stop hiding from me, Harry won't protect you forever, and we will be together again. Have fun on this little midlife crisis that you're having, I'll see you soon, baby.
Harry's jaw clenched as he looked at me, each muscle flexing and contracting in his neck in ways I'd never seen before as he held back his madness. However, when his eyes flicked to meet mine that were silently streaming tears of petrifying fear, his harsh expression melted away instantaneously. "Hey, P, he won't get you, okay? I promise." Harry soothed, bringing my body to rest on his bare chest whilst I cried, feeling a panic attack spiral inside of me, knowing it was going to happen again.
"Harry, it's coming." I whispered shakily. "I can feel it."
"No it's not, Primrose. You can't let him deteriorate you like this." Harry spoke slightly sternly, lifting me from his chest rapidly so I was face to face with him. The tears continued to fall as I looked at him hopelessly, knowing his words were coming from a good place, but also knowing they weren't going to do anything.
"It doesn't work like that, Harry." I sob, feeling my body begin to tremble, making me hold onto Harry's legs for stability.
His chest heaved up and down as his eyebrows furrowed into a single, dark line over his eyes. "Well then, make it work like that, Primrose!" He snapped. "You are better than him, I will not let him get to you." Harry's words began to fall less and less sympathetic towards me, and more competitive towards Dan, as if he didn't want to accept some sort of defeat.
"Harry..." I croaked out, needing some type of assistance as I wobbled to my feet, trying to get to the bed as my head went dizzy and my stomach churned a constant, sick feeling. He silently moves me to the bed, making sure I was comfortable but not letting his anger drain as he continued to pant, all of his movements rapid and unintentionally aggressive. Just as Harry lay me down, my phone began to ring.
The only noise between us was my generic ringtone, neither of us moving to answer it as we both knew who was calling, yet didn't want it to be true. I went to stand from the bed, yet Harry noticed and bolted for the phone before me. "It's the same number." He swallowed, flicking his eyes between me and the phone.
"Harry... don't answer it." I spoke quietly, forcing myself to sit up as there were bigger things to deal with right now, rather than my panic attack. However, I could tell I was far too late in my request, as Harry's eyes were glued on the screen, my words not phasing him in the slightest as he answered the call.
I froze as he bought the phone to his ear, my body flinching at the unexpected rocket of volume his voice was going to project into the room. "Listen here you prick..." Harry began pacing the room, and all I could do was watch helplessly from the bed. "Stay the fuck away from Primrose, or I'll have your abusive arse thrown in jail, and believe me, I have the power to do that." Harrys voice was low and raw, his fist clenched by his sides so tightly his knuckles fell white.
"I won't let you win, Dan." Harry yells, swinging the bedroom door open as he stomped down the stairs, his voice rattling the entire house. I won't let you win... so it really is a competition between them both, and I guess I'm the prize.
Tears swarmed my skin, my breathing fractured and jumping as I tried my hardest to understand what he was saying from downstairs. Gemma raced out her room onto the top of the stairs, her head flipping to look at me in confusion at what was happening. Noticing my state, she leapt onto the bed, taking my hands in hers as she flicked her eyes between mine. "Listen to me, Primrose..." Her voice was calm and assuring, her touch surprisingly not bothering me at all as I felt the demon within begin to start its games.
"You're okay, understand? You're safe in this house, and I'm here for you. Don't worry about anything else but yourself right now, okay?" Gemma spoke as if she had experience with panic attacks: her telling me to focus on myself being something I needed right now after Harrys poor display of care, however, focusing on myself was something I simply couldn't do right now.
Knowing Harry was downstairs, battling it out with my abusive ex, utterly lost in his anger hurt me far more than Dan ever could. It made me feel even worse knowing this was my fault - I know how much Dan gets to Harry, yet, I continue to tell story after story of how he's affected me.
I blinked a few times at Gemma, clearing my teary eyes as I felt stronger than I have previously in moments like this. Weakly throwing my legs over the bed, I stumbled to a stand, Gemma's hands slipping out from mine as she watched, respecting my decision by not stopping me.
"Harry!" I yelled through my tears, the need to check if he is okay far stronger than the demon within as my feet fumbled down the stairs, my trembling body following his voice as I fell into the kitchen. The back door was flung open, letting in a biting coldness as Anne ran over to me, helping me stand up straight.
"Primrose, what's going on?" She asks quickly, fear pouring from her words. As much as I wanted to, answering Anne was the last thing on my mind as I continued through the kitchen, running weakly through the tears as I submerged my body in the freezing outside.
"Harry!" I yell again, spotting his figure at the top of the garden. My bare feet ached at the cold, boggy mud beneath, Harry becoming clearer and clearer the closer I got.
"-fucking waste of space cunt!" Harry gritted through his teeth into the phone, his words audible as I stood a few metres away from him.
"Harry!" I shouted, his head snapping to look at me in shock. His breathing was steaming in front of his face, his voice going silent as he stared at me, the expression dressing his face unreadable. The only sound between us was Dan's muffled voice on the phone, almost laughing at him. "Harry, give me my phone." I put my hand out, walking towards him.
"No." He replied lowly, turning away from me to continue shouting down the phone.
I was genuinely hurt by his response. Harry has always respected me, but, right now, in this moment, he is unrecognisable. Filled with such disgust and anger as he barked at Dan, his face burning read and his neck straining to a painful extent. As much as I hate seeing Harry like this, I will not be walked over in this relationship. I made that mistake with Dan, and I will not allow Harry to ignore me.
Boldly, I walk forward, wanting back what was rightfully mine as my phone was mere inches away. With his back to me, I grabbed my phone in Harry's hand.
And that's when everything changed.
My entire world came crumbling down in that very moment, standing in Harry's garden, drenched with tears and frozen by the air.
Everything I thought I knew became obsolete and everything I feared came true. All at once, I felt myself return to that scared little girl, trapped in her abusive relationship, being dragged across the sand in Jamaica. Yet, nobody came to my aid this time. My guardian angel did not save me from this torture, as he was the one inflicting all the pain.
As soon as my hand made contact with the phone, Harry's body whipped around to face me, his free hand grabbing onto my wrist so tight I screamed outloud in pain and shock. He tore it from the telephone, dragging it between us as he pulled my body violently towards him. Looking him dead in the eye for some kind of mercy, I saw that the Harry I knew was long gone. His eyes were black and scary, there was no forgiveness to be given in them. In this moment, Harry didn't care.
All he wanted to do was beat Dan.
I heard Gemma and Anne yelling from behind me, yet their words were unidentified as I was consumed by terror. It felt like hours that we were both stood there, Harry easily dominating over me without any fight back from me. My wrist throbbed and ached agonisingly under his hold, my hand falling limp and numb as no blood was able to creep through the restraints. Tears were bulging in my eyes however I let none fall. Crying over this felt like a mistake. All of the last 10 months suddenly felt like a colossal mistake as I once again feared the one I was supposed to love.
My eyelashes came batting down against one another in a blink, causing a single tear to slowly drag down my skin, representing everything I never thought would happen.
The tear shed was shed by Harry.
The tear was almost a wakeup call for Harry as he snapped back to reality, darting his head around to me, to the phone, to Gemma and Anne behind. His eyes fell to our hands, mine white and lifeless, his tense and red. Immediately he let go, stumbling backwards in shock as he looked at me through his glossed eyes. My wrist naturally pulled to my chest for comfort, and I looked down, identifying the red hand mark over my skin from the one who was supposed to keep me safe, not make me feel threatened.
"Primrose, I'm so sorry!" Harry came to his senses, racing up to me but freezing dead in his tracks when I ran backwards on reflex. He ended the phone call, placing my phone in his pocket as he took another step up to me. "It was an accident, P. Please, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just couldn't let Dan get away with that." Harry speaks quickly.
There it was again... Dan.
Gemma and Anne moved either side of me, Gemma wrapping her arm over my shoulders so I didn't feel alone as we all looked at him
"Primrose please..." Harry's voice trailed into a shaky whisper as I didn't say anything in response. All I could do was look at him, stare at him, watch him try to come up with a reason good enough for hurting me in such a way. He knows how sensitive my wrist is, and, for him to show such disregard to my feelings is a type of pain I will never be able to explain properly.
The moment he made contact with my hand, it was as if everything stopped. The birds stopped chirping, my blood stopped pumping, my heart stopped beating, my tears stopped falling, my mind stopped talking, the world stopped turning. In that moment, I felt nothing - I felt like I was nothing. I felt embarrassed for putting so much into Harry, for showing him so much of me, for exposing myself to him, and for this to be the outcome. It were as if someone had submerged me into the ocean with a weight chained to my foot, and all I could do was watch myself plummet into the abys, letting go of everyone and everything as I drowned - on my own, silently.
Harry made me feel unsafe, and that is something I never thought I would have to say.
"Say something, anything, I just need to hear your voice." Harry begs, taking another step towards me until his mum put her hand out, stopping him from moving any closer.
I take a shaky breath in, turning to face Anne. "I'm going to go for a walk, I promise I will be back in time for dinner. I hope you can understand my leaving." I speak as clearly as I can, Anne nodding in understanding and stepping to the side to let me leave. Turning to Gemma, I whisper a 'thank you' as she takes her hand from my body, and without even glancing at Harry again, I left.
My feet carried me rapidly to the front door, tears beginning to fall from my eyes as I entered the house, hearing Harry shout from behind me.
"Primrose, Wait!" His voice disintegrated into nothingness the further away I got, the faint response of Gemma and Anne yelling the last thing I heard as I shoved my shoes on and stormed out the front door.
Going to the only place I felt comfortable, I stumbled through the quiet, festive streets, numb to the cold at this point. My mind failed to make light of the situation that had occurred, no redeeming qualities present in my mind to make me want to go back to Harry at all. Sobs echoed through my throat as I turned down a country lane, wiping away my tears to see clearer as I neared my destination. Pushing open the gate, I made my way down the pebbled path, stopping in my tracks when I was finally there.
"Hi Robin." I croaked out, my body collapsing to the ground in a heap of cries as I became engulfed by the silence surrounding us. "I know I told you I would be back with good news, but, I'm not." I force myself to sit up, shuffling myself round onto the path so I was as close to the grave as I could get, placing my hand on the raised mud to feel a form of connection.
My wrist ached as the bruising was already showing, the weakened nerves showing no mercy with how obvious they made the marks look. Wiping away my tears, I took a few deep breaths in to compose myself, in a state of utter shock and not knowing where to even begin to comprehend everything.
"I'm sorry to come by with bad news, but you're the only person I know for miles." I laugh in a shallow attempt to make myself feel even the slightest bit better. "It's just... Harry- well, you see... basically, I just-," I fumble for a way to say what I needed to say, not being able to bring myself to tell Robin such bad news.
"I love Harry. I love him so much, and, I don't know if after this-" I glance down to my wrist, feeling a lump grow instantaneously in my throat from the sight of what he did. "-I don't know if after this that I still should. I say should, because, I know I will love Harry forever. Even though what he was done is unforgiveable, he is nothing like Dan. I don't want to believe that Harry did this on purpose, but I just can't even think about him without feeling scared." I exhale in relief from getting something off my chest.
My body felt unusually calmed considering what's just occurred. I spend a few moments looking around the cemetery, enjoying the silence of it just being Robin and I mixed with the therapeutic winds rustling the tree leaves, cooling my skin that was on fire from the amount of crying I had done.
I never thought I would be in a position like this.
"There comes a time in everybody's life, where you realise that you need to start showing yourself more respect. Harry made me realise that, which is why I broke up with Dan. But now, I'm sitting here, wondering whether I should go back to your house and hear him out, or whether I should leave everything and book the next train home. I feel like I'm disrespecting myself to go back to Harry."
I take a few moments to sit in silence, letting Robin respond as I imagined him doing from Heaven.
"I never thought it would come to this." I speak quietly, my voice cracking as tears formed in my eyes once again and my throat filled with sadness. "Robin, if you're listening, can you tell me what to do, please?" I ask desperately, needing some form of guidance as my mind and my heart were telling me two different things. "Should I go home?" I brace for any signs of natural movement, yet my head falls to my lap in realisation that this is something only I can figure out, silent tears falling down my cheeks.
"I get it." I sniffle. "I get that this is something I have to do alone, but-" I lift my head, yet my speech is cut off by one of the most unbelievable things I had ever witnessed. There, perched upon Robin's gravestone, was a robin. It's belly was a bright orange and its feathers were a warm brown as the bird looked at me peacefully. I laughed in amazement and disbelief, my tears drying on the spot as I shuffled closer to the message from above.
"Hi there, little guy." I hum, cocking my head to the side in admiration of the creature, watching how calm and composed it was amongst all the chaos surrounding me. "I need to figure this our for myself, don't I?"
The robin takes off into the sky, flying away into a neighbouring tree, reality sinking in that this was a battle I could only conquer alone. Nodding to myself, I wiped my eyes dry, rising to a shaky stand and beaming down on Robin's grave. "Thank you, Robin." I close my eyes and bow my head in respect. "Merry Christmas." I finish, walking away slowly with an utterly new mindset of this entire new situation.
I love Harry - of course I do.
But, my perspective of him has flipped completely in the last hour, and, I don't know if that change will keep me in love with Harry.
I made my way back to the house slowly, enjoying the silence as I knew what I was about to return home to. I felt powerful in a way: I held all the cards. This was my decision to make, and I was going to make it without Harry. I know that I am stronger than I think I am, so I have faith in myself that I will do what is best for me, not for me and Harry.
Creeping through the front door, I was shocked to find the house completely silent. The dogs swarmed my feet, and I gave them affection with my one functioning hand, before gingerly making my way to the kitchen. The lounge was empty when I checked it as I passed, which nerved me slightly as I didn't know where Harry was. I was scared to see him - not because I thought he was going to hurt me again, but because I didn't want to see how him hurting me, would've affected him. I can't even begin to imagine how distraught he is with himself. Based on how he looked when I left, I would hate to think of what he's like now.
Entering the kitchen, the delicious smell of a freshly cooked turkey hit my nostrils, making my stomach groan with hunger as I spotted everyone sat at the table, the food untouched. Anne and Gemma perked their heads to look at me, both of them smiling as I entered, but Harry kept his head hung low to his body, not flinching as my presence sat next to him.
"This all looks lovely, Anne." I compliment, taking the napkin and laying it over my lap, mainly to warm my legs that were shuddering from how cold they were.
"You're just in time, love. It's all fresh from the oven." She replies cheerily, carving into the turkey with a sharp knife.
I glanced over at Harry with concern as he just sits, motionless, hunched over the table. "Harry?" I speak ever so quietly, breathing in heavily when Harry's head raises to look at me. His eyes trail to my wrist, bruised and sat protectively in the hold of my undamaged hand, and as soon he notices the marks left upon my pale skin, his face winces shut. Harry looks away to the other side of the room, staring outside the window to avoid looking at me. It hurt, to see him like this. It really did.
I know he didn't mean what he did. If he wanted to hurt me, he wouldn't be so saddened by the aftermath.
My eyes move round the room to look at Anne, who placed the first cut of turkey on my plate. "The first slice for the beautiful guest." She tells me, and I smile at her gesture, my heart slowly warming again. Anne continued to slice the turkey, placing it onto everybody's place until we all had some, before we all tucked in to filling our plates. I was surprisingly ravenous, leading me to pile my plate with food, not caring how greedy I looked as I loaded carrots, cabbage, cauliflower cheese, roast potatoes, stuffing, turkey, cranberry sauce, bread sauce, gravy, Yorkshire pudding, pigs in blankets, parsnips and sprouts onto my plate.
Gemma had an equally full plate, Anne's coming just shy of ours. However, when I went to see how much food Harry had, I fell sick to my stomach when I saw it was empty. Taking matters into my own hands... well, hand, I put the food on his plate for him. He needs to eat. I may be fuming and still slightly weary of him, but I will not let him simply not eat. Anne's food cannot go unappreciated like that.
We all tucked in eating immediately, and I saw Harry in the corner of my eye, finally sit up straight and take his fork, beginning to eat along with us. It was hard to cut my food with only one functional hand, and I didn't even want to attempt to use my bruised hand. It was an unspoken forgiveness from Anne and Gemma that I was using bad table manners by only using my fork, and i appreciated them glossing over the entire situation like nothing happened.
They must've spoken to Harry about what happened - it isn't like him to not come after me and check if I'm okay. Gemma and Anne genuinely make me feel so loved and so cared for, I don't feel like I have to hide anything from them, or feel embarrassed about anything I say or do infront of them.
"What's Christmas like with your family?" Gemma asks, the question catching me off guard but I didn't mind at all.
"Well..." I force my mouthful down. "We would all wake up super early, at around 6am. I don't have any siblings, so when I started to get older my parents would wake me up instead of me waking them up. Our presents would be opened by 9am minimum, and then we would just spend the whole day lounging around, doing nothing. My Granny would come round sometimes, which was nice." I explain, everyone listening intently - including Harry, who's head was minorly raised and his eyes actually looking at me.
"Do you visit home often?" Anne continues.
"No." I reply simply. "When I left, I told them I wouldn't go back. I was on a mission to conquer the world at 18, and after a few hiccups, I eventually found the life I live today. I wouldn't trade the barn for anything." I smile, shovelling another mouthful of food into my mouth.
"Have you got a lot of friends by the coast, or are they all at home?" Gemma asks, and I notice Harry glare at her, but as soon as I look at him he bats his eyes away. I knew exactly why he was looking at her, because of Kellie, and because of recent events with Angel, but Gemma doesn't know what's happened, so I don't think its fair to simply not reply.
Clearing my throat, I take a sip of water to prolong the amount of time I spent thinking of how to sum up everything in as little words as possible. "My best friend from home, Kellie, is amazing. She's my other half. She, umm... unfortunately she passed away from leukaemia, but that was a while ago so it's easier to talk about. I don't have many other friends from where I'm from, but it's a small town so everyone knows everyone if that makes sense." Anne and Gemma nod in understanding. "When I moved to the coast, I met Angel. He is my best friend, and I don't know what I would do without him." Harry gives me a sceptical look as I skipped over all the drama that's been happening between us recently, but I didn't feel like Gemma and Anne needed to know that. "I'm friends with a lot of my customers, but not to the extent of meeting up with them after hours. I'm quite the introvert, though, so I don't mind."
The rest of dinner was eaten amongst casual chitchat, Harry not saying a single word as Gemma, Anne and I spoke about numerous topics. We all fell silent for a few minutes, focusing on eating this amazing meal Anne had prepared. Finishing my last roast potato, my body flinched when I felt something warm against my thigh. Smiling to myself as I expected it to be Harry's hand, I was saddened but also surprised to see my phone on my leg, remembering that Harry never gave it back.
Getting happy when I thought it was Harry's hand on my leg is something I didn't expect, but, it said a lot to me about where my head was at, based on the instinct reaction.
Everyone finished eating at about the same time, Harry too clearing his plate and mumbling out a 'thankyou' to his mum - his first words since I'd been home!
"Oh, so he speaks." Gemma pokes fun at him. Shaking his head, Harry storms from the kitchen, catching both of us off guard as we flinch in shock. She immediately chases after him, leaving me alone at the table. With this new found mindset, owed all to Robin, I gathered everyone's plates and took then to the sink, placing them next to Anne.
"Thank you." She spoke gently as I went to walk back to the table, making me backtrack and stand next to her, helping her with the washing up.
"It's fine, honestly. It's the least I could do after you cooked such an amazing meal." I replied warmly, cautiously loading the dishwasher with my one hand, not wanting to drop them.
"No." Anne stands up straight. "I mean: thank you for everything you've done for my son." Her words were simple and kind, yet threw me off completely as I stood up straight, blinking at her blankly as I didn't know what to say. "Ever since you started dating, he's been so much happier. All he does is talk about you, how excited he is to see you again and how much he misses you. You make him truly happy... I haven't seen him like this in years."
"You're welcome." I reply, not knowing what to say. "I'm glad I make him feel like that." I go back to the table and gather more dishes, taking them hastily to the sink.
Anne and I wash up in silence for a few moments, my ears chiming in to a distant conversation between Gemma and Harry on the stairs. It was too quiet to identify any words, but the tone was serious and there were abrupt raises in volume, making me curious as to what they were discussing. Heading back to the table, I peeked down the hall, making eye contact with Harry for a brief moment as Gemma continued to sternly talk to him. He smiled at me, only for a second, but none the less it was a smile. I smiled back, collecting some dirty cups and returning them to Anne.
"I know you love my son."
I choke on my spit at the words that left her mouth, my head shooting to look up at her in confusion. "I- uhh.. I- How?" I skittishly whisper, extremely cautious of how close Harry was. "How do you know that?"Anne places her sponge down, turning to face me and thankfully whispering.
"I didn't until just now." She smiles proudly at me, and my jaw falls open in disbelief. "No, in fairness, I could tell." She adds on casually at the end, turning to the sink again to continue washing up.
"What gave me away?" I laugh in awkwardness, continuously checking over my shoulder that Harry wasn't at the door.
"I've had my suspicions all week, but, when I saw how connected you and him were earlier when you opened each others gifts... I just knew you looked at him with more than a strong liking. I knew you loved him as soon as I saw your entire atmosphere shift when he put the ring on your finger. You saw hope for marriage, did you not?" Anne questions, and I can't help but just stare at her in speechlessness.
In truth, when Harry put that ring on my finger, I did see us getting married. I saw him in a black tux, his hair perfectly curled and his eyes mezmerisingly green. I saw me in a white dress, my hand laying in his as he slipped the ring on. I saw our future. I saw happiness. I saw me with him, for the rest of my life, and I loved it. But now... now I don't know if I love it. I love him, but, I'm just thrown off.
I'm ajar from the line of normality. Everything is wrong, and difficult, and confusing, and I'm finding it difficult to even know whether I want some Christmas cake for pudding, let alone decide how I feel about Harry hurting me, and whether I should stay with him or let him go.
"I'm only messing." Anne laughs, and I sigh out a laugh, going along with her like behind my eyes there wasn't just a full production of our wedding playing. "Can I be honest with you, Primrose?" Anne's voice becomes more serious, making a small wave of panic shoot up my stomach, but once I made eye contact with her loving expression, I knew I had nothing to worry about.
"Of course."
"I can't excuse Harry for what he's done, nor can I expect you to. But, we both know Harry, and we both know how out of character this is for him-"
It was out of character for Dan the first time he hurt me, too.
"-If you choose to walk away from this amazing connection you have with one another, I know it wouldn't of been an easy decision, which is why I will respect you highly for it. However, I will respect you equally as much if you see this through, and move past this bump in the road, together. I think it would be an awful shame if you and Harry separated, as I don't think there is anyone better suited for either of you-"
If we were perfectly suited, then why would he hurt me?
"-No relationship is perfect, and, though this is a pretty large thing to work past, it is 100% doable if you both want it. Do what is best for yourself, Primrose. Don't fix a relationship that you don't want fixing, but don't walk away from something that deep down you want to fight for. As much as I love Harry, he is the one who messed up. He will pay the consequences for that. If you choose to leave, he has only himself to blame. Harry made the mistake - accident or not - and I think once he's stopped bruiting about it and explains himself, the decision is in your hand."
So, Anne thinks I should let him explain himself.
"Did he say anything about what happened when I left?" I ask gingerly, not sure if I'm prepared to hear this in case anything scary or sad happened.
Anne sighs, looking away from me so her eyes were now trained on the floor. "He got upset... really upset." She begins, and I breathe in sharply, holding on to the counter lightly for support. "When you left, Gemma and I had to yell at him, just to bring him back so his senses. He wanted to chase after you: he was screaming and crying for you to come back and for us to let him go, but we didn't. Eventually, he gave up and collapsed to the floor. We sat with him, listening to him ball his eyes out as he apologised to us as if we were you. Gemma managed to get him to come inside whilst I boiled the kettle, and she told him that because he did this, he can't get mad at you if you decide to leave him. She also told him to give you space, but based on what happened at dinner, he took that slightly too literally." Anne laughs at her ending statement, as if everything she said previously didn't just cut through my heart like a razor sharp knife.
My eyes trailed to my wrist that was glued to my chest. The ache was still there, but it was barely noticeable now from all the distractions I'd faced. Upon my limp hand, resting on my pointer finger, was a light. A promising reminder of how much I mean to Harry, and how much he cares for me. A Goddess... beauty... nurturing... The Red Jasper crystal beamed at me through the surrounding bruising, representing everything Harry and I had gone through to get here. And... until earlier, we'd gotten here and were overly contempt. Despite the emotional torture we'd endured, we had made it here.
So, what's so different about physical pain?
Is there a difference?
Mental abuse and physical abuse?
I know he isn't an abuser, but in the grand scheme of things, putting two and two together, is there a difference?
I open up to Harry about the abuse Dan showed me over the years, the main factor being the wrist grabbing, and he uses that against me.
Harry opens up to me about his fear of being alone, and I lie by saying I would go on tour with him, then tell him I'm staying home, then go on a break with him, sending him to tour utterly alone.
Harry had me at heart: though it was hidden behind his hatred and competition with Dan, he was only doing it to defend me.
I said I would go on tour with Harry so he didn't get sad about leaving me, and I went on a break with him because at the time, I believed it was the best thing for us.
When did our reality become so twisted?
No matter how hard Harry and I try to do the right thing, we always seem to end up hurting one another...
Is that a sign that we shouldn't be together at all?
Or is that a sign that we should stay together, because we are both going to all extents to do what is best for the other person, not even contemplating the consequences?
Questions, questions, questions. My mind ached with queries and thoughts, struggling to focus on a single one as I left the kitchen, Gemma and Harry now in the lounge as I passed to go up the stairs. Placing one foot on the step, I heard Harrys laugh echo from the other room: a sound so beautiful and consuming that my body momentarily fell limp, making me seek refuge from the step for support. I perched on the bottom step, slumpd against the wall, just listening to Harry enjoy himself. You would think I would be annoyed that he is laughing after what's happened, but that would be overly selfish. I want Harry to have fun, especially after what Anne told me.
He's hurting, and I'm hurting.
I want us to hurt together.
____ Approaching the living room door, i tapped lightly against the soft wood. They both turned to look at me, Gemma beaming a smile and Harry nervous to even make eye contact with me. "Uhm, Harry? May I talk to you please?" I ask hesitantly, chewing the inside of my lip as he awkwardly approached, following me up the stairs. We enter the bedroom in silence as he shuts the door, each of us occupying either end of the bed.
"Are you okay?" He asks quietly, not moving his eyes from my hand as he spoke.
"M'fine, Harry. But, you aren't." I make a bold statement, but we both know it's true.
Harry stays quiet for a few moments, staring at my wrist. His face muscles flex as he desperately tries to keep a composed expression through the obvious welling of his eyes. Harry forms his lips into a line, his breathing slowly getting heavier and his jaw tensing. He blinked; a single tear rolling from his perfect skin onto the duvet below. As soon as it left his skin, Harry snapped.
His body collapsed into a pile against the duvet, not muffling the agonising cries rattling from his throat as he mumbled inaudible words. I scrambled down the duvet, putting the pain in my wrist aside as I forced Harry to sit up. His skin was cold to the touch as it trembled beneath my hold, the tears soaking my jumper as soon as his head rested on my shoulder, showing him no mercy. Harry continued to try and speak, yet every word was cut off with sobs, the rawness of his voice sounding painfully raspy.
"Hey, Hey." I lift Harry to look at me, opening up his breathing in attempt to ease his vibrating chest failing to take in full breaths as he became consumed by his cries. "It's okay, Harry." I soothe, stroking soft lines up and down his back as he falls back to rest on my body again. Harry's arms squeezed round my waist, his entire body shaking every time he sobbed out his feelings.
"No it's not." He yells between cries from my chest, lifting his body so he could face me. "This isn't okay, Primrose." His voice ached with misery, each word tumbling through emotions so powerful that Harry himself didn't know how to control them.
I use my hands to twist Harry round so his back was facing me as he continued to cry, his head resting heavily on my hand upon his shoulder, dampening my skin with the salty beads of sorrow pouring from his bloodshot eyes. My legs straddled round Harrys limp body, pulling him up gently to lie in my lap. My fingers stroked patterns over his hands as he clung to them, bringing them up with his to wipe away tears as if he were scared to let go.
"I'm sorry, Primrose. I'm so so sorry." He trailed into a strained whisper, each word jagged and rough from the harsh conditions his throat was enduring as his screams of sadness tore through it. "And don't tell me it's okay, because it's not. How could I do this to you?" Harry becomes lost in his emotion, yelling out into the room in anger at himself, each word stinging my heart more and more as I silently cried from behind him - seeing him in such a state being too difficult for me to watch.
"How could you? How could you do this to her!" Harry screams in the third person, cursing his past self as he drowns in his cries for an escape, rolling his head into my chest so his ear was against my heart. "She didn't deserve this, and you did this to her." Harry tries to yell, but he simply isn't strong enough: every ounce of energy being forced into his words.
"It was an accident, Harry." I speak as quietly as I can, continuing to stroke his hand as he continues to hold it.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Harry repeats, his eyes pinned shut yet tears still easily poured down his face, his skin burning up red from how raw it was becoming. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Primrose. I'm so sorry. I was just angry and I got overwhelmed, and- THAT'S NO EXCUSE HARRY! DON'T TRY AND MAKE THIS ANY BETTER! YOU DID THIS TO HER!" Harry's body shoots up straight as he tears his hand from mine, throwing it forward and pointing at his reflection in the mirror before us. His face creased into an anguish of sobs, desperate for relief as he collapsed against my chest, searching for my hand to hold again.
"Primrose, I'm so sorry." Harry gasps to himself, a momentary silence piercing between us as he holds my hands before his eyes. His fingers trace extremely light lines over the bruising on my wrist, lifeless tears still dragging down his skin as he came face to face with the reality of his mistake. "I'm so sorry." He continues to say, slowly bringing my hand to rest against his jumper now that he was aware of what he had done. "I'm so sorry. You don't deserve this." His voice is broken, trailing into a whisper every time he speaks, the pain obvious with every word he forces out.
"You didn't deserve how Dan treated you, and you don't deserve how I'm treating you. I- I'm so sorry, Primrose. It was an accident, I promise. All I want to do is treat you like a Goddess: I want to treasure you, and care for you, and experience life with you..." Harry sits up and coughs violently, his hoarse voice crackling as he spoke, fading more and more every second. "This was all just a big accident. I'm sorry, Primrose. Please, forgive me."
"Harry, it's okay I-"
"This isn't okay!" Harry wines in an attempt to yell, his body caving in and falling to the side, his head now against my thigh. Unlocking our hands, I snake my hand around his body, leaning down to rest on top of him to comfort him through this painful torment he was experiencing. "When you left, all I wanted to do was chase after you, all I wanted to do was make sure you're okay. That's all I ever want to do. I can't think of a time where I haven't cared about you. From Jamaica, to now, all I've done is care for you." Harry coughs again, his body trembling in my hold as I cried from behind him, staying silent and motionless as I let Harry say everything he needed to say.
"When I saw the fear in your eyes once I'd grabbed you, I feared you would never look at me the same again. I just wanted to comfort you and make all the pain go away - because I love you. I love you so much and- and knowing that I was the one who did this to you, hurts me so much more, because there isn't anything I can do about it. And, I'm so sorry, Primrose. I'm so, so sor-"
"You love me?" I say, sitting up from Harry as he falls silent, the only sound between us being his rapid breathing. "Did- did you mean to say that?"
Harry sits up slightly, turning to face me. Our eyes met: his pupils danced over mine in such a melodic way, contrasting everything that had just happened. His cornea was a foggy green, swarmed by the bloodshot whiteness surrounding. Harry looked tired. Harry looked weak. But, as he said those words I will never forget, he was perfect.
"I love you, Primrose. I'm in love with you."
Without thinking, I engulfed Harry in my arms, holding him tight to my chest as I hugged him in this awkward position, tears of relief and overwhelming happiness falling from my eyes.
This would be a perfect moment to say 'I love you too, Harry.' However, I'm not going to do that. Not now. Despite Harry telling me the most precious three words in the English dictionary, I cannot bring myself to say the 'too'. That sounds like an agreeal, as if I'm only saying it because he said it to me, or I'm saying it out of pity because of how upset he was. I don't want any negative connotations with the day I tell Harry I love him.
Today is Harry's day. Harry hit rock bottom right infront of me, and saved himself with three, blissful words.
Harry sat up, forcing my body to go with it as he was now facing me fully. His hands held my face for a few seconds, his thumbs swiping carefully to wipe away the tears still falling from my eyes. "Why are you crying?" Harry asked quietly, his voice extremely weak.
"I'm happy, Harry. I'm so happy." I reply, moving my head forward to connect our lips. The kiss was long, yet simple and minimal with no movement from either of us. We just needed to feel one another, to connect once again after such a rollercoaster of a day. Harry's voice was on repeat in my mind, his confession on loop through my ears as I moved my hands to hold his face, not even wincing at the pain as I flexed my hand to cup his defined jaw.
Both Dan and Harry apologised. Both Dan and Harry said they loved me.
The difference, is that Harry is the only one who meant it.
***
A/N: I cried SO MUCH whilst writing this omg.
One, because hello? Hella emotional.
Two, because there has been a lot of new readers recently, and in the last day I've gained 2k new reads. I saw I hit 48k reads and could not stop smiling!!!!!!!!
I truly love you all.
p.s. I think that song went so well with that section of the chapter.