When we got to Harry's place, he had been right. There were no photographers there, and I was thankful that no one would be able to grab me. The two of us headed inside, Geoff asking Harry if he needed anything but he shook his head no. It left Geoff to head to the parking garage, and Trey to drive elsewhere, Harry and I going to his place. The trip up the elevator wasn't that long, and I found myself following him off quickly, one of his neighbors saying a brief hello as they passed us. He gave them a small greeting also, but it was surprising to me for someone to not freak out entirely over his presence. Then again, they lived near him, so I figured they had to be used to it by now. As he unlocked his front door, he pushed it in, letting me walk in first. Thanking him quietly, I waited for him to shut the door and lock it, my eyes meeting his green ones.
"You've been here before."
"I know, but it's just so large. My apartment is a decent size, but not like this."
He nodded. "That's fair. I'm kind of hungry, so I can make something if you'd like?"
I shrugged, following him to the kitchen. Part of me was really nervous around him, but the other part was stuck wanting to stay near him. I felt very small in his home, and I didn't truly comprehend where my brain was right now. At least, I couldn't see why I wanted to stay away from him yet grab onto his hand all at the same time.
"Let's see. I can make quesadillas, or I might have some chicken and gnocchi soup still, if you're interested in that?"
"The latter sounds good. Where is your bathroom again?"
"Okay, so through the hallway, and the first door on the left."
"Thank you."
He nodded, assuring me he would get the food ready. Setting my backpack on the sofa, I walked toward the bathroom, taking a moment to find it because there were two sides to the hallway. When I did, I quickly used the bathroom, making sure I was put together once I was finished washing my hands. Everything in me was basically freaking out and I was trying my best to calm down, but I really couldn't. Why had I agreed to this? Just as I went to think about how I could get out of this, there was a knock on the door, followed by Harry's surprisingly gentle voice.
"Are you okay? Your soup is ready, I heated it up. There's also some bread, but I'm going to go to my room and change."
Quickly opening the door, I was very anxious again, Harry's eyes meeting mine. At first he looked confused but then the hint of a smile appeared on his face. I tucked my hair behind my ear, thanking him quietly before awkwardly stepping by him. As he went down the hall to his room, I was certain I heard him laugh, but I ignored it. My soup was at the table, a bowl beside it for who I assumed was him. The television was on, and I started eating my food, Harry walking out after I had only had three spoonful's. He looked more comfortable in T-shirt and sweatpants, his feet covered with socks that had little pumpkins on them.
"It's September, why are there pumpkins on your feet?"
"Next week is October, I think I can slip by with these."
Shaking my head, I watched as he sat down, my eyes glancing over at the television every couple of bites. We were both very quiet, and I could tell there was a lot of nerves between us. It was almost uncomfortable, but I didn't want to leave. We were going to be perfectly fine later when we were around a bunch of people, so I didn't think it should have been a problem that we were around each other by ourselves now. Once we were both finished, we headed over to the sink, Harry saying he could clean the dishes, but I assured him I wouldn't mind.
"No, it's my place. Really, I can—"
"You can dry them," I smiled, cleaning the first dish, and then handing it to him. "That's all yours."
He chuckled softly. "You're the first woman to ever come over and willingly do dishes."
"Ooh, I'm so special."
"You're also the only person to ever eat with me at that table. Then again, I don't really have many people over to eat."
I looked up at him quickly, his eyes focused on the dish he was drying. I was still washing dishes, but I clearly wasn't paying attention to what exactly I was washing because I felt a sharp pain in my hand, glancing down, and cursing softly. Dropping the knife and sponge in the sink, Harry seemed concerned, confused when I tried to hide the obvious mark on my palm.
"What did you do?" he laughed. "I know, I'm such a sad guy. It's not that—why did you stop washing dishes?"
"What? Me? I, uh, don't know what you—"
He set the dish he had been drying down on the drying mat, quickly grabbing my hand that was faced with the back up. I went to pull away, but even with the water, he was still stronger, and his grip was tight. When he turned my hand over, he cursed, keeping it under the warm water. I was told to stay put, Harry grabbing a washcloth from a drawer not too far away. He put soap on it, making it sudsy before gently attending to my hand.
"Only you. Were you not looking?"
"I was looking at you."
"Me? You should have been looking at the dishes. I'm the least important thing in this whole place," he quickly said, and I almost would have thought he was angry with me by his tone. "Thankfully this isn't deep."
"Harry?"
"What?"
"Hey," I murmured, shutting the water off, only for him to turn it back on. "Harry, stop."
"Your hand. It's still bleeding, and I need to fix it r-right now. I-It's my fault, I-I didn't—"
"Harry, stop. Pause. Hey."
He was clearly more anxious than I was now, my free hand shutting the water off. He didn't look like he was about to cry but it was obvious he was upset. Drying my good hand off on my shirt, I cupped his cheek, brushing my thumb along it easily. "It's just a little cut. I'm okay."
"But I—"
"Shh. You have nothing to apologize for, I was just looking at you because, well, you're very pretty."
His cheeks flushed, and I had never seen him look so young before. My heart was pounding, and I felt silly for saying that to him. He rinsed out the washcloth in what I assumed was a way to distract himself from me. He grabbed a dry one, carefully pressing down over the mark. I winced, the man in front of me apologizing frantically, but I assured him it was okay, just that it stung. He went to the bathroom, coming back with a little safety kit he had. I smiled when he bandaged my hand up, green eyes focusing on me.
"You just had to do the dishes," he teased.
"It's the polite thing to do since you made me food," I told him. "Anyway, I want to watch a movie, can we?"
"Of course."
He straightened up briefly, leaving me to sit on the sofa. I took my shoes off, Harry sitting on the total opposite end of the couch. He opened Netflix, and we went through different movie categories before choosing some rom-com that I wanted to watch, and had never seen before. The opening was kind of lame, but about halfway in I was definitely invested. However, the air had also seemed to click on, and I glanced around for a blanket, frowning when I didn't see one. Getting up from my seat, Harry looked over, appearing confused when I sat right beside him, my body cuddling into his as I wrapped my arms around him.
"What are you doing?" he questioned.
"It's cold."
"Ask for a blanket, then, I could—"
"Oh, I guess that's true."
He chuckled. "Do you want one?"
"I can get it if you tell me where it—"
"I'll grab it."
"Are you sure?" I asked, letting go of him.
"Positive."
He got up off of the sofa as I paused the movie that we were watching. He had gone into the hallway but came out about a minute later with a large throw blanket. Harry sat down, lying it over the two of us after I had wrapped my arms around his waist again. He let me rest my head against him, the man I was holding onto hitting play for the movie. Harry laughed at me when I was nearly crying because it all worked out in the end, my cheeks flushing as he tried to pick another one while asking me questions.
"Do you watch movies like this with your friends?"
"Sometimes," I shrugged. "Niall likes cuddling as much as I do."
"Niall, huh?"
"Yeah. I was going to say the brown-haired one, but they all are. Uh, I don't know, he has hints of blonde."
"I know who you're talking about. I kind of bought him Drake tickets," he joked. "I just don't know if I like him cuddling with you."
"Oliver doesn't watch movies with me really. He only ever wants to spend the night."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, but we haven't—never mind."
Harry set the remote down, and I could tell he hadn't chosen a movie. Glancing up at him, he was obviously waiting for me to continue, but I was just embarrassed. I didn't want to admit a bunch of stuff to him right now, but he was being super sweet to me and I finally didn't feel as anxious as I had around him.
"Amato?"
"Can't you call me Finley?" I asked. "Just once or twice. You never use my name."
"I didn't know it bothered you."
"It doesn't. I like that only you call me by my last name, but, um ..." I sighed. "I don't know, I like my first name."
"I like your first name, too, Finley."
It made me smile, and I wanted to cuddle into him even more than I already was. Harry had wrapped one of his arms around me, and I was thankful that we were becoming decent friends now. Or, that's what I was thinking anyway. I watched as he grabbed the remote, trying to find a show to watch as I began talking again.
"So, um, what I was saying is that I really have only kissed Oliver, but that's all."
"I don't like him, angel, that doesn't mean I get a say in what you two can do," Harry told me as he continued searching. "But really? If you let me into your life like that, I would definitely want to do more than kissing. Or, hold on. I would unless, you know, something happened and it makes you uncomfortable. Does he make you uncomfortable?"
"No. It's just complicated."
"How?" I glanced up at him and he was attentive. It was clear he wanted to listen to whatever I had to say, my body trying to cuddle into his more, but I just awkwardly managed to get my legs on either side of one of his. It made Harry laugh, but I was really nervous again, trying to get off of him. At this point, I was so anxious that I was shaking. Harry seemed to realize the problem, swiftly taking care of it. He helped me get back to my previous position, his fingers brushing through my hair a couple of times before he hushed me.
"You're okay."
"I-I'm so embarrassed that I—"
"Kind of humped my leg?" he smirked. "It's fine."
"Harry!"
"Finley!"
"You're so rude!" I complained. "Why would you say that? I didn'—I was trying to get closer, and I, uh—"
"Don't worry about it," he assured me, tucking my hair behind my ear for me. "I know it was an accident. But what were you saying before, neonata?"
I was so flustered now, and I took a couple of deep breaths to calm down. Harry put on a movie, lowering the volume just so it wouldn't be dead quiet. He played with a few strands of my hair as he waited, and I had no idea who this man was, or why he was being so kind. Then again, I recalled him saying once that he liked me because I wasn't ever trying to fuck him. Maybe that's why he was so interested in me. He actually had to work for me, whereas every other girl was someone who fell to her knees for him immediately.
"Uh, I just ... I can tell Oliver wants to have sex, but we haven't been together that long and I haven't since I was eighteen."
"So, you're scared?"
"I-I don't know, I guess. My ex was ... he used me, and I'm worried Oliver will use me, and I don't want it to be meaningless, a-and it still m-makes me upset."
"What does, neonata?"
I shrugged. "He promised he loved me, but he broke up with me right after w-we had sex, and h-he told me i-it hadn't meant a-anything to him f-for the past f-five months. H-He didn't love me, h-he just liked h-having sex with me, and I-I'm so s-stupid."
"Neonata," Harry murmured, my face cuddling into his chest as I cried over a stupid guy from four years ago. "It's okay, it's okay. Some people have different opinions about sex, but yours is as valid as the next. You're okay, I'm right here."
My arms tightened around his waist, and I felt helpless. It had been so long since I cried over my ex, but here I was, falling apart in front of Harry. He probably thought I was too childish now, and would never want to hang out with me anymore. Why would a grown man want to hang out with a twenty-two year old who was still upset about something from four years ago?
"Finley? I have some ice cream. Hey, do you want ice cream?"
"N-No."
"Alright. Okay, let's go to my room. I've got you, neonata."
He stood up with me in his arms, my face still hiding against his chest as I cried. I clung to him tightly, and I had no idea how he was even tolerating me. When he laid me down, and went to pull back, I wrapped my arms around him, my eyes squeezed shut as I shook my head no.
"Fuck, okay, okay, I'll stay. I was going to just sit on the bed, but I'll lay with you."
He climbed over me, getting under the covers, and placing them over me also. I was trying to calm myself down, but I could tell this had been bottled up inside of me. My ex was the first and only boy who I had loved, and I didn't want to get hurt like that again. I didn't love Oliver, but what if I did one day, and he did the same thing to me?
"I'd do anything to take that memory away from you," Harry told me quietly. "I'd do anything to take the pain away."
"R-Really?"
"Yeah, of course. You might not like me that much, and I might still be a dick sometimes, but I don't like seeing you upset like this. He hurt you so long ago, Finley, it shouldn't still hurt you this badly."
Nodding, I started to calm down when he held me close and traced his fingers over my back. I was more hurt than I recalled, but I knew it was hard for me to push all of the pain back. To be honest, I doubted the pain would even begin to subside until I found someone who would truly love me again. However, I had no clue how long that would be.
"If you could have one thing, what would it be?" he asked. "Not a long term thing, but something like a laptop, or a plane ticket, or something like that. What would it be?"
"I-I want to see my family for Thanksgiving. I know they're going to Italy, b-but I don't have that kind of money right now."
"Italy, huh?"
I nodded. "They love me, b-but my mom said because I-I'm independent, I have to buy my own t-tickets now."
"Alright. Get some rest yeah? I still have to kick your arse tonight."
It made me laugh.
"Or, we could call off the bet, and I can just let you pour an iced coffee on me if you let me take you out sometime."
I pulled back, Harry frowning when he saw my face. He carefully wiped my eyes, using his T-shirt to dab my nose. It made me smile, and he just chuckled. We both looked at each other for a couple of minutes, my cheeks flushing the longer I stared at him.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, placing a kiss to my forehead. "I can't believe someone didn't love you."
"I can."
He sighed, shaking his head. I let him press kisses to my face, knowing I shouldn't have, but not minding it either. Harry was being gentle, and I could tell he was just wanting me to feel better. Giggling softly, I smiled when he pushed me onto my back, the man above me leaning down and continuing to leave soft kisses to my skin. Again, I shouldn't have allowed it, but I didn't think there were any poor intentions. He was just trying to make me feel better.
"Stop a minute," I whispered, Harry placing a kiss to my forehead then. "Hey, look at me."
He pulled away, glancing down. Green eyes were prominent, and I could see they were lighter than normal. Leaning up, I placed a kiss to his cheek, cupping the opposite cheek with my bad hand. The moment I pulled back, he turned his head, placing a kiss to the palm that was bandaged.
"Thank you for making me feel better."
"Anything for you," he mumbled shyly, lying down beside me again. "Neonata, come cuddle with me so we can nap."
"Do you take a lot of naps?" I asked, curling up beside him.
"No. I like them with the right person. My mum will take naps with me sometimes, but it's just because I would be upset, and she would fall asleep after making me feel even a little better."
"I haven't seen my mom in a while," I told him quietly. "I think the last time I saw her was New Years. She moved to Chicago with my dad for their jobs."
"Oh. Do you want to see them? I can make that happen."
"No, it's okay. We talk on the phone, so it's fine. I just have to save up to go to Italy, that's all."
He nodded, pulling me closer to him. I had never felt so safe before, and while it was ironic that I felt this way in the man's arms that usually wanted to yell at me, I didn't mind. He was being gentle, and kind, and every antonym I could think of for his previous behavior toward me. Curling up against him more, I kept my eyes shut, praying that I would fall asleep and wake up to the kind man currently holding me.