"Do you want eggs on your bagel?" Harry called from the kitchen as I laid wrapped up in the blankets on the couch, with, you guessed it, a cup of coffee. Shocker?
After last night, me and Harry had a long talk. We stayed up until almost two o'clock in the morning talking about everything. I told him about how lonely I'd been since he had been away, how badly I missed him. He told me he felt the same way, that he hated being away from me all day, that we were going to work on things and hopefully things would improve.
So, he said he would stay home more often, try to find time for us.
I'm trying to work past what happened. Not like I could give myself much to process it, it had only been less than twenty-four hours. I didn't wake up with the same fluttery feeling like I usually did, but instead woke up sort of mute and numb. I didn't want this to ruin our relationship, I knew that we were going to have hardships ahead of us, so I tried my best to act like I was okay.
I was a professional at that.
Pretending to just be okay.
"Yes, baby, please!" I called back to him, "With cheese on top as well."
"And hashbrowns?"
"No, just the bagel is fine."
In all honesty, today was going to be nerve-wrecking for me. My stomach was already hurting and my anxiety had been through the roof. Today was my first day of therapy. Funny timing, isn't it? First thing I wanted to say to my new therapist was that my boyfriend managed to kill a cop last night and I really needed to get over the fact that I saw two dead bodies and now my chest hurts because I can't control my anxiety.
And, to top it off, my first therapy appointment had to be in person. When I scheduled this appointment, I told them I only wanted to do it over zoom, or whatever keeps me at home, but they fucked up and now I had to actually go in office.
Which was quite aways from Madrid, but not too bad of a drive, I guessed.
Anything to make progress, right?
I had been looking forward to this for a month now. I was ready to get it all out, ready to start working through my fucking shit, and ready to be diagnosed with whatever the hell keeps making me have these horrid nightmares.
Harry knew today was a big step for me. He was so supportive, he even woke up earlier to make me coffee and breakfast. He said that he didn't want me to stress today, that it was our day together since he took the day off. I asked about his mom, and he said he called up there to tell them he wouldn't be there this morning.
His mom had been getting slightly better, too. I hadn't gone there to meet her given that Harry never asked and every time that I offered to come with, he would say no, that I should stay and sleep in or whatever. But he did tell me that she's made it through the worst of the withdrawals, which I would've thought since it'd been some months.
She still doesn't remember him. It was the last thing he told me, just to get the good news out first. The taste was better that way. There was a part of him that wanted his mom to remember, that's why he kept visiting every morning. He told me that maybe if he just kept going, she would remember. Something would come back to her and she could at least remember his face.
It's so fucking sad.
Harry had been really strong through this entire thing with his mom. I was so proud of him for everything he'd been doing to not only help her, but help him. So he can get some sort of closure from the situation. To say that he could have at least been there for her.
We were each other's rocks.
"Here's your bagel, babe." Harry rounded the corner with a plate of food.
"Thank you." I sang out softly, taking the plate from him as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my mouth.
I guess, maybe I was really fucking lucky sometimes.
"Are you nervous about today?" He asked as he sat next to me, placing his own plate of food in his lap, "Excited? Ready?"
"I don't know yet," I answered back in uncertainty, chewing through small bites of my food, "I haven't decided yet. I guess I'll know after my first session, you know?"
"I know that everything is up in the air right now, but I wanna tell you..." He placed his hand onto my naked calf, squeezing it slowly, "I really am proud of you. Not a lot of people admit they need therapy. There's really nothing wrong with it, baby. You've been through so much, this is what you need."
"I know," I whispered with a pout, trying not to think about it quite this early. I sniffled softly, feeling my waterline brim with a faint tear. Proud. I wished that I could've heard that from my mom. The closest I got was when I graduated elementary and moved onto middle school where she told me that I did a good job with my straight A's. Hearing Harry say it to me just meant so much, but there would always be a hole where I wanted to hear it the most from my mom.
"Just know that I'm always going to be here for you," Harry reassured with another squeeze, "You can always tell me anything."
A ping of guilt flooded me, I still hadn't told him about my nightmares. I was shocked the nights that he would sleep through my episodes, sometimes he would toss and turn a little if I was being too loud, but for the most part, he slept really hard during the night.
"I know, Harry," I reassured back to him, taking his hand that was resting on my leg and kissed it tenderly, "We do have to go soon though. I gotta get dressed."
I tore from Harry's touch, placing the empty plate onto the table and headed into the bedroom to get dressed. I didn't care much to get dressed up for a therapy session, but I also didn't want to make her think that I wasn't capable of taking care of myself. Some days when my depression gets the best of me, I tend to just stay in pajamas all day. I don't take showers. Brushing my teeth is a chore. Something so easy just sounds so fucking hard.
So, I was doing this for me, really.
I needed to do this for myself.
To have some sort of normalcy.
I plucked out a pair of black biker shorts with a baby blue sweater. After I got dressed, I pulled my hair tight into a ponytail and slid on some tennis shoes. I told Harry I wasn't nervous, that maybe I would feel it later after my session, but now that it was closer to time, I started to feel it.
My shaky hands met the inside of my hoodie pocket as I walked out of the room to see Harry who was sitting on the couch, seeming to be texting a few people back.
"I'm ready," I grabbed the keys from the hook and swirled them around my finger just as Harry always did, "But we are taking my car today."
"When are you ever going to drive the car yourself?" Harry teased softly, pushing his phone into his pocket before rising to his feet.
"I use it!" I said in defense with a huff, "Sometimes..."
"What was that?" Harry arched his brow with a crooked smile.
"Nothing, nothing," I waved a hand in front of me, "Let's go."
"Mhm, alright."
—---------------------
"You're gonna do great, baby. I'll be back to pick you up in an hour, alright?" Harry leaned over the seat, cupping the underside of my jaw. I leaned over into his touch, placing a few pecks against his lips.
"I love you so much, sometimes I feel like I don't deserve you," I whispered against his lips, to which he nudged his thick nose against mine.
"Don't ever say that," He scolded lightly, "Promise me you'll never think that. You told me the same thing months ago, did you not?"
"But it's different–"
"No, it's not different," Harry furrowed his brows, "It's the same thing. Say it with me, Angel. I deserve love."
"That's silly, I'm not saying that–"
"It's not silly, Anna. Say it." He demanded more firmly, but made sure to rub my hand for reassurance.
I felt stupid. I was scared to say it, fearful that someone would overhear me and remind me that I wasn't deserving of it. Public humiliation was my biggest fear, I've had it done to me one too many times. I wanted to desperately believe that I was deserving of it. It was all I ever really wanted.
"I..."
"Say it," Harry squeezed my hand once again, "I deserve love."
"I deserve...love." I whispered shyly, anticipating some sort of backlash, but instead I was met with another kiss to the mouth, this time much harder yet sweeter.
"Affirmations, baby!" Harry said with an open mouthed grin, "Now get in there and unpack your problems. You're gonna kick therapy's ass."
"Dork," I opened the car door, stepping out of the car, "I'll see you in an hour."
"See you in an hour, baby girl." Harry coo'd proudly.
As Harry pulled off, I found myself standing in front of the building with a lump in my throat and my hands sweating lightly from nerves. My feet planted against the ground, I couldn't seem to move. It was the start of a new beginning.
Swallowing my nerves, I walked into the building to be greeted with the cold air of the office. It smelled of overly scented apples and cinnamon that was going to bring on a headache. There were a couple of people in the waiting room, a kid playing on the ground with some of the toys they had laid out in the room. I sighed. I'd hoped that kid hadn't started therapy so young.
Or even better, I hoped they didn't need it at all.
"Hi, I'm here for my appointment today." I just slightly leaned over the desk to alert the man in front of me.
"Oh, hello," He popped his head up, "Okay, first name?"
"Anna." I whispered under a breath.
"Camino?"
"That's me!" I chuckled.
"Great, just have a seat. Erica will come get you soon."
I breathed a sigh of relief and sat in one of the chairs. My foot tapped restlessly against the carpeting, my fingers irritating my cuticles as my eyes anxiously looked over the room. It was too quiet. I wished that I could've brought my headphones, yet I had forgotten them back at home.
After a few minutes, I pulled my phone out and started to scroll through random apps. I used to be on social media a lot, but I found myself rotting away, and now I only scroll through apps whenever I'm bored and have nothing else to do–which is sometimes rare.
My lips pushed to the side, brows furrowing as I watched as people post their lives, their photos, their accomplishments and everything else. Since when did social media become a diary? Since when did everyone feel so comfortable with telling the most vulnerable moments in their life to random people on the internet? I sigh, solely because I wished I was able to be so open about my most traumatic experiences to others without thinking.
But, everyone is different.
"Anna Camino?"
My head popped up and focused my gaze on the open door that had a woman waiting for me. She had short blonde hair that was half up, tied into a small bun on her head. A plain white shirt with a tan cardigan and black slacks. She looked no older than thirty-five, but still young.
"That's me!" I chirped, but low enough not to disturb anyone else waiting. I got up from my seat, inching towards her as she gestured me back with a wide smile.
"Hi, I'm Erica. I'm gonna be your new therapist," She said as she gestured us back to her office, "How are you doing today, Anna?"
"It's nice to meet you," I sighed softly, trying to remain calm. There was a reason why I was doing this. It was good for me. "I'm okay. How are you?"
"I think I'm okay," She moves herself to the side as she stops at her office and opens the door.
The minute she opens the door, a pop of color impales my vision and nearly blinds me from how bright it was. I took a step into the office, glancing around at the rainbow colored room that seemed to be so artificial. The walls were a light blue color with colorful posters plastered on them, saying things like; "Hang in there!" "It gets better!" and "Your illness does not define you."
With the encouraging statements that were set to motivate, I couldn't help but feel like it was all a push too much. Like, I should suddenly be cured by the false hope of the cat that was gripping for its life on a tree limb.
"Please, take a seat." Erica gestured towards the couch she had on the other side of her desk.
"Thanks..." I trailed as I found a seat, pulling my legs up onto the couch to make myself more comfortable.
"Do you want some tea or anything? I have some honey tea in a pot that I brewed myself." She offered with a kind, warming tone.
"Oh, no, that's really okay." I'm never going to drink or eat anything that someone I don't know gives me. Fuck that.
I know she's my therapist, but that trust is out the fucking window.
"Okay, well if you ever want anything to drink, just let me know," She placed her hands onto the desk, leaning forward, "So, tell me about yourself, Anna. Let's get to know each other."
I nearly snorted, "There's really not much about me. My life is really boring."
"I'm sure that's not true," She retorts, "What are your hobbies?"
Hobbies?
I bit down on my lip, trying to pull anything from my mind. Did I even have any hobbies? Shit has been so ridiculous, I didn't think that I ever stopped to find myself a hobby.
"Haha, um..." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, "Next question, please?"
"Oh, come on. You really don't have any hobbies?" Erica half laughs with confusion, "Do you draw? Knit? Read any books?"
"I like–music..." I trail off, "Is that a hobby?"
That's not a fucking hobby, Anna.
Christ.
"Like concerts? Have you ever been to any concerts?" She asked.
"Ummm...." I shook my head slowly, I started to feel like an absolute loser, "Does church count?"
"Oh, hm. Sure, church can count I guess, but have you ever been to a real concert?"
"No."
"Wow." She started writing something down on her notepad.
Fuck, she's probably writing about how boring I really am.
"Do you have a favorite color?"
"Sage green is cute," I nodded, "I really like that color recently."
"It's a nice color, how about work? Do you have a job?"
"No, um...no, I'm in between jobs, but I was a teacher. I'm..." Miserable. Miss my kids. Terrified to go back to school. Scared I'm going to waste my life not doing what I love most. "I'm looking for a new job, I think..."
"Oh! A teacher! I'm sure you've really bonded with the kids that you've taught in the past," She nodded, "Is it hard for you to see them graduate and move on at the end of every year?"
"Well, yeah, obviously. You see them grow up for the entire year and y'know, it's hard not to get attached to them. I loved my students, even if they were a little bad at some points." It was actually nice to talk about this. I hadn't talked about my job since...since before I lost it, actually.
"Do you often find yourself getting attached to things that you know will leave you?"
Oh, she's really fucking good. I see what she's doing.
I laughed softly, "Wow," I nearly threw my hands up into the air, but instead rubbed my face, "Yeah, um...yeah, I don't know. Maybe."
"Well, you know, people often find it easier to latch onto things that will leave us in the end because it's what they are used to. They are used to temporary people in their life," She takes a sip of her hot honey tea, smacking her lips, "Do you find yourself recycling people in your life? Or going through different friend groups?"
"No, I've had the same friend group all my life," I paused, tensing up yet relaxing at the realization that my friend group no longer exists, "Well, I...I used to, but..."
"What happened? Did you guys fall out?"
"No, um..." I cleared my throat, placing a hand on my chest as I nearly choked up, "Haha, sorry. Um, no, um...two of my best friends actually passed away last year, so."
"Oh, Anna," Erica frowned, setting her mug down as she leaned towards me with her hands on her desk, "I'm so sorry to hear about that. Grieving is always the hardest thing to go through. How have you been doing?"
"Well, I'm...I'm fine, you know? I'm just fine." I say without hesitation.
She pinches her brows, inspecting over me, "But you're not really, are you?"
"What do you mean? I really am fine." I half chuckle.
"What's funny?" She studied me with a frown.
Fuck, she is really coming down on me.
Calm the fuck down inspector gadget.
"What? Nothing is funny." I shifted again in my seat, clutching the sweater paw that was hanging over my hands.
"I want to make an observation," She leans back against her chair, "Are you laughing because it's easier for you to say that you're fine and laugh it off? Rather than to be open about your emotions in fear of some sort of rejection?"
Fucking hell, can we slow down?
"You know what?" I half laugh, placing my feet flat onto the couch as I shift towards her, "I'd actually love a bottle of water, um, if that's okay. But only a bottle?"
"Sure, I can get that for you!"
The minute she stood and left the room, I pulled out my phone and texted Harry because–just what the fuck.
Outbound text:
Harry.
Harry <3:
Finished already?
Outbound text:
She is a good therapist. Way too fucking good.
Harry <3:
What's happening?
Before I could text him back, she entered the room again which made me frantically shove my phone back into my hoodie pocket. Erica walked over to me with a smile and handed me my water.
"Thanks, I appreciate it." I sigh, inspecting the bottle closely as my fingers ran along the bottle to make sure there were no hidden punctures.
"Now, where were we?" She hums to herself, tapping her finger on her chin, "Ah, yes, it seems like you may have a fear of rejection from your emotions, Anna. Have you ever opened up to someone and found yourself being, maybe...not only emotionally rejected, but also in a physical sense?"
Fuck it, I'm drinking this water.
I twist the fresh top off, taking a few slow sips of it before sighing and finding my gaze onto the carpet with my lips pressed firmly together.
"I guess..." My hands squeezed the bottle tightly, "Yeah, all my life. With my, um...my mom. She really didn't do a good job at hearing me out when I needed it the most."
"I'm sorry to hear that, have you ever been open about this with her?" She asked.
"No."
"Are you open to the idea of having that conversation with her one day?"
"Well, I can't."
"Anna, I know that the thought is scary because she's your mom, but it's only natural to have these conversations with your parents. That's how we create a healthy relationship and if she can't be an adult about it, if she can't admit her faults–"
I cleared my throat, interjecting, "She's dead."
The room suddenly went silent. I stared down at the bottle of water, scratching at the paper that wrapped around its body.
"That doesn't mean that you can't get your closure..." She trailed off after a few moments of silence, "How did she die?"
I blinked. It was almost as if I was back in the house that used to make me sweat buckets, always complaining about how hot it was, even in the summertime. The thought made me wipe my hands against my pants, wiping away the imaginary sweat.
I'd never forget the scream she let out when I pushed her down the stairs. The way her body somehow turned into a rag doll and the way the sound of her skull cracked against the last step before meeting her fate.
Lastly, I'd never forget the look in her eyes. I kept telling myself over and over again that it wasn't my mom. But it was. It was in fact, my mom, having the rabid look for the lust of killing. They were yellow almost, with hints of red, with tears brimming her eyes as her frail fingers pressed harder and harder against my neck, trying to release my soul into another otherworldly place; one that she knew scared me the most.
"She fell and broke her neck." I whispered under my breath, starting to feel that familiar feeling constrict around my throat.
"That's terrible. For the both of you really, but that doesn't mean you can't get closure."
I only nod.
"So, I'm going to ask you again, Anna..." Erica whispered softly, "How are you doing?"
I closed my eyes from the sudden burning tears that welled along my waterline. I cupped my hands over my face, slowly breaking down in front of this random lady that I'd only known for the past half hour.
"I'm...I'm not doing okay."
—-------------------
When I walked out of therapy, it was almost like the walk of shame. I kind of hated myself for breaking down so easily on my first session. I couldn't understand how she made me feel comfortable enough to even do that. I didn't leave the building first without going to the bathroom and making sure I didn't look like I had been crying.
I made my way outside, Harry had already texted me that he was waiting outside for me. The minute that my eyes met with my car, there was a very tall Harry who was standing in front of the car with a bouquet of sunflowers and a small handle of chocolates in his hands. I smiled softly to myself, placing my hands over my mouth as I approached him.
"What the hell are you doing?" I whined out, examining the presents in his hands.
"Just making sure my baby girl knows she's loved," Harry wrapped his arms around my body, despite his hands being full as he pressed me close to him, "How was therapy? Was it okay?"
"She is..." I rested my head against his chest, sniffling softly, "She's really fucking good, Harry. I don't know what happened to me there. I just–she made me feel so vulnerable, I cried."
"My honey..." Harry trailed off as he used the back of his hand to rub my back, "That's good though, isn't it?"
"Yeah, she's incredible and I hate it so much," I sighed, pulling from his touch as I stood on my tiptoes and placed a kiss to his lips, "Thank you for the flowers, baby. They really mean a lot to me."
"Anything for you, baby. I'm so proud of you for opening up today. I know it's not easy," Harry pecked around my face, "Now, let's get in the car, I ordered some food and it should be arriving shortly at the house."
I took the flowers and chocolates, Harry patting my bum as I walked away. I climbed into the car, keeping the flowers tightly to my chest as I placed my nose to the petals and took a sniff. They were so fresh. The scent grounded me until we got back home, that and the way Harry was massaging the top of my leg as he drove us back home.
What they don't tell you about therapy is that it fucking hurts. Going through all of these different phases in your life where people have hurt you, where your trauma was laid and how it's affecting you now. Talking about my mom definitely opened up a wound that I didn't think I had. Even if I kind of knew there was a wound there, I thought it would be healed up and guarded for me to never open again.
I figured that from then on, I was going to end up hurting a lot until I could talk about everything and find my own closure in everything. Erica told me that I could still find my closure with my mom, which I didn't know exactly how to find. I didn't have a clue on where to start looking for that kind of solution.
She was dead.
Is that my closure? That I killed my mom so she couldn't hurt me anymore?
The worst part is that I couldn't begin to tell Erica that.
I would be locked up before I could leave the building.
Everything about this session had to be vague or I'd give away the illegal shit that I'd done.
Am I proud of killing my mom? No, I'm not.
Looking back to the night in Venice when I told Harry I wanted to hurt my mom, I was just thinking about hitting her. Punching her. Something that wasn't lethal. But shit doesn't always work the way you want it too and unfortunately in my case, it ended with my mom dying before I could ever find the guts to tell her how badly she had hurt me.
When we got home, Harry had ordered us a nice pasta dinner and even bought a lovely red wine to go with it. Though, when I entered the kitchen moments after Harry told me to stay in the kitchen, I was met with candles that were lit on the table and a Harry that was standing shyly by the chair.
"Harry..." I whispered in awe, the flowers I held in my hands dropped to the floor with a soft thud, "What–what is this?"
"I wanted to do something for us," Harry said softly as he shed off his coat and wrapped it around his chair, taking a step towards me, "I know I'd been so busy with work, I know I haven't been focusing on us. I can't–I can't stand the thought of you being alone and battling with your thoughts alone. It kills me every time that I leave the house."
My eyes fluttered with tears that tried to prick the corners to escape.
He did this all for me?
"Anna, I love you so much," Harry confesses like it was the first time those words rolled off his tongue, "I love you so much that I would do anything for you, you know that right?" His mouth kisses the side of my temple, one of his hands on the lower of my back, "All these months I've spent with you have been so wonderful, it's been so perfect."
"Oh god," I cried out softly, half laughing as I placed my hand onto his chest, meeting his gaze. His emerald eyes were just as glossy, matching the same emotions as we bathed in the water of our feelings. "Harry, this is so nice. I–I can't begin to–"
"You don't have too, Angel," Harry trailed his thumb against my lip softly, "I've never felt this way about someone before. I love you so fucking much, you make me feel like I'm floating. Like, even if I were to fall, you'd be there to catch me."
"I don't know what to say–," I nearly sobbed into his neatly pressed shirt, but I somehow managed to stop myself, "God, I am so in love with you."
His hands cupped over my jaw, pulling me into a soft, yet passionate kiss. Melting into him, I was puddy in his hands. I felt my body warm as my arms wrapped around his neck and deepened the kiss very slowly. His tongue swiped against my top lip, carefully pecking it over and over again before pulling away and leaving me dazed in a foggy state of mind.
"Can we eat now before we get to the dessert?" He teased softly.
"Mhmm, yeah, of course."
The dinner was nice. We both consumed three glasses of wine, giggling and laughing with each other over stupid stories and silly jokes that we told each other throughout the dinner. There was a warm glow in our newfound home, the light was just barely encapsulating the side of Harry's face with the flickering flame of the candle.
At some point Harry had moved his seat from in front of me, to sit beside me. His hand etched over mine as we both giggled and belly laughed with one another, sharing small compliments, some even drunkenly not making sense, but we didn't care because we were with each other.
"You're so beautiful." Harry mumbled against my hand as he kissed over the knuckles.
"Stop!" I cackled out, half tipsy.
His brows arched, his lips twitching in entertainment, "Mmm, is someone getting shy all of a sudden?"
"No," My smile broke into a grin, "I'm just..." Thinking about how you killed someone last night, "Flustered is all."
"Flustered..." Harry reached out, trying to contain his small, childish giggles to him as he bopped my nose with his finger, "My dear, you are beautiful. Very beautiful."
"Oh, god," I half scoffed with a roll of my eyes, "That's enough of that, you've had too much wine!"
"I'd say I'd have just enough," Harry coo'd, "Or maybe not enough. Though, I only bought one bottle..." He trailed off as if he was questioning his abilities to get another one for us.
"One is enough," I told him, "Tonight is somewhat of a cheat day anyways."
Harry fell silent, as if he was taking in the consequences of his drinking choices, though the bottle was just enough to keep us tipsy and no further than that.
"Hey," Harry's shoulders fell with a pout of his lips, brows furrowed, "I have to ask you something."
"And what's that?"
"Would you ever—" His words slurred on the plump lips of his as his tongue fought the words pronunciation, "Move?"
"I guess I wouldn't be opposed to it," I shook my head, "I don't imagine staying in this house forever. Did you find a new house?"
"No, I mean—" He sighed, shrugging his shoulders, "I mean, out of—Madrid."
Oh.
"Oh, wow..." I whispered under a breath, "I guess I haven't really thought about it..."
My family was here. Or I supposed, my dad. Gracie. People I grew up with my entire life. On one hand I supposed it would've been nice, given the bad memories that I couldn't put in the past. On the other hand...I didn't want to leave it all behind.
"And with your job and all, the promotion, you know I just—I thought we were getting comfortable here?" I chewed on the inside of my cheek at the sudden change of tension in the air. It was almost as if it was to strangle me with an answer that needed to be spoken right then.
"No, I know that, I know," Harry reassured with a tap of my hand, thumb tracing around the back of my hand, "It was just a question."
"And your moms here—"
"Angel," Harry cut me off, sending me a concerned yet relaxed look of confusion, "It was just a question."
"I'm sorry, I just thought that—well, I don't know what I thought. You're just always full of surprises, I never know what to expect with you." I half chuckled, though it was the truth and sometimes it scared me.
"I like surprises, don't you?" Harry's lips curved into a soft smirk, "I think they're quite fun."
"Surprises can be fun," I said short, trying to dodge the elephant in the room that was perking its trunk up to make the loudest noise. It wanted attention. It wanted us to address it. However, I wasn't giving in, "I put up with your surprises." I added.
"Because you love me."
I smiled fondly to myself, watching as his fingers brushed through his hair and fell to make a middle part. I sighed dreamily, then the memory of last night dawned on me. My smile faltered, my teeth catching my bottom lip as the daunting image of the cop lying dead on the ground. Shivers ran down my spine causing me to shift uncomfortably in my seat.
I had to shift my focus.
I thought about when I first met Harry. Or rather, when we first started to talk. He was sweet, yet irritating, coming into my life at such a time where I craved independence the most; though, only craving it at the wrong time, and therefore finding myself falling more dependent on him even if it did irritate me. He irritated me.
"I think I loved you long before I even knew it," I tried to calm my mind in confession, fiddling with his fingers, staring down at the rings that displayed his initials H.S on them, "Before I could admit to myself. I don't even think I knew what real love felt like so I just—chalked it up to some kind of childish crush that I felt so intensely."
"Before Venice?" He leaned over and grabbed the bottle of wine, going to pour himself another glass before realizing that it was empty, his lips pouting out in disappointment.
"Before Venice."
"Before..."
"I think I realized I loved you a month after we met," My brows furrowed as if I was lying to myself, like I couldn't believe that I hadn't deciphered those emotions until recently, "But you made me so mad. You were a pain in my ass and I was searching for some sort of independence and you were in my way," I paused, taking a moment to think about all the times me and Harry had fought about my safety, all the times I was stubborn and ignorant. "But I liked it. I liked...I liked having you in my way."
Harry was staring deeply at me, though I couldn't tell if it was the amount of wine we had drank or if he was really taking in what I was saying. A blush rose on my cheeks, letting out a frustrated breath as my head shook.
"I don't know—."
"I didn't love you in the first month," Harry said softly, averting his gaze to the flickering flame of the candle as his fingers spun his empty wine glass around mindlessly, "I could see myself loving you though. I saw it and no matter how hard I tried to change the outcome, it always ended up the same..." He bit the inside of his cheek, stopping his movements, "I couldn't help but to fall for you. Even when I knew I loved you, it felt like I couldn't...allow myself. I wouldn't—."
The soft confession broke my heart. It was rare that me and Harry ever got to sit down and have moments like this, moments of vulnerability, moments where we got to say how we felt, or feel at that moment. I sunk into the chair, ripping my gaze from him as I took the last bit of wine in my glass and sipped it down.
"What was the outcome?" I breathed, watching the leftover drops of wine drop down the side of the glass and fall to the bottom of the cup, "Of us. What was the outcome?"
The silence after that almost made me want to jump out of my skin. Though, I'd have to give my anxiety the award for best trampoline since it was immediately jumping to different conclusions in my head. God, I'd hoped it wasn't foreshadowing.
"The outcome..." Harry elongated, flicking his eyes to mine as a softened yet defeated look bared his face, "Is that I would always leave. Every time. Because I'm such a fucking coward," Harry breathed, as if getting this off his check in the midst of also hurting my feelings was somewhat destroying him yet healing him.
"I act like I'm not scared of anything, but it's not the truth," He confessed through bated breaths, "I'm scared of losing you. I have a lot of fears and one of them is putting you in harms way," My hand that was resting on the table slowly danced its way to his as my fingers grazed his digits, causing him to jolt slightly at the sudden touch.
"Is that why you left? In all your outcomes?" I frowned, still staying silent between the two of us.
"Yeah," Harry sighed, entertaining the idea of brushing his fingers to dance with mine, but instead pulled his hand from mine and placed them into his lap, "I left because I'm scared that you being with me is only going to hurt you and if you ever—ever got hurt, I don't know what I'd do with myself, Anna."
"But I'm okay, see?" I took the opportunity to scoot my chair closer to him, reaching out as I brushed his chestnut curls past his ear, "And I'm okay. I really, really am."
"But what if you're not?" Harry's voice started to shake as his glossy eyes searched my face, leaning from his chair as he brought himself closer, "What if I come home one day and you're gone? I think about this shit, Anna. It terrifies me to leave you here alone, but I put on a fucking strong face and leave every fucking day knowing that if anything happened to you, it would be my fault. Mine. Because I wasn't there."
In the moments that we had a great distance between each other, it took seconds before we were coddling each other, holding each other closed with his hands cupping my face and inhaling my shaky breath as if he needed my unsteady breaths to keep him from losing his own. His thumb ran over the side of my cheek, his thick nose nudging mine as his lips caught mine. I sighed into the kiss, tasting the wine on him, sweeter than grapes, sweeter than this tender moment.
In truth, even if we were both content in our lives, we still had a fear that we both had been keeping secret. It's better to act brave instead of worrying each other. The wine was truth serum, making us spill truths that had been gnawing in the back of our minds for sometime.
"I'm not going anywhere," I reassured against his pretty drunk lips, fluttering my eyes to watch as his brows pinched tight, eyes still closed from the closeness of us, "Tell me you know that."
His eyes fluttered open, the flickering flame from the candle causing his emerald shine to glimmer in hopes.
"I know that." He breathed.
I searched his face, seeing that he was really hurt by the thought of it. He had some sense of need to protect me because he cared. I knew he cared. Last night proved that to me. It also proved to open a door that was hiding how scary that was. How frightening the lengths he would go to, to protect me. I wasn't ignorant, however, I knew who he was and I still agreed to be with him.
"We have to talk about–" The words clung to my tongue, begging not to be spat out while my stomach twisted in an aching sickness, "We have to talk about what happened last night, Harry..."
As if Harry's expression wasn't already the saddest thing I'd ever seen, he'd somehow managed to put on a pair of puppy eyes. It was like having a newborn puppy that just had an accident, but not really wanting to scold it because it's so small and innocent. But Harry is not small, nor innocent, we were both grown adults that were at the scene of a crime last night. I was his accomplice, even. If that's what you wanted to call it.
"Can we talk about this in the morning?" Harry took my hands, kissing my knuckles lightly as if buttering me up was going to make the topic hurt any less, "Tonight is about us, is it not?"
"Tonight is about us, that's why we need to talk about this," God, I really didn't fucking want to. I really didn't want to open this can of worms, I didn't even want to think about last night, but every stare, glance, gaze that Harry gave me; I couldn't stop picturing the way he looked last night.
"Can I say one thing?" Harry interjected lightly, twisting the rings on his fingers as he awaited for me to grant him his wish, to which I gave him a soft nod, "I'm not sorry I killed him."
"You're not sorry?" I tried not to sound weak, frail, broken, or even angry, I was trying to hold my tone like I meant it.
"He was hurting you," He trailed off, not daring to even spare me a glance, "My only regret is that you had to see that."
"Harry..."
"Anna, darling, I really don't want to get into this. I said I was sorry, I can't even begin to tell you how badly I regret having you see that." Harry's tone fluctuated with the helpless yet annoyed tone of his voice, of having to speak about this again.
"I know you care about me, Harry, I really do," I scooted my chair towards him, bumping my knees with his as my hands grabbed his jaw and made me look at him, "But you know I don't condone this. You have to know this. Please just stop killing people. Even if they are hurting me, there has to be another way."
His fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling him closer to me, so close I felt his hot breath on my lips and the scent of the dizzy grapejuice we had together. My lips parted with a soft sigh, furrowing my brows as my hand caressed his cheek.
"And if I don't?" Harry whispered, almost like he was challenging me. His tone had an underlying list of things he wouldn't confess to me, like the way he felt about killing. Part of me was starting to believe that he enjoyed it.
"If you don't?" My face nearly turned red with irritation, mostly being that he would try to challenge the request in such a way. He nodded, repeating his words once more which caused me to pull back from him with an uneasy look splattered on me, "If you don't..."
"I'll leave..." I whispered, feeling my eyes start to burn with tears as I flickered my gaze to look at him, "And I won't come back. I can understand your past, but if we are going to build a future together, we need to compromise."
I half expected Harry to overreact to my ultimatum, but instead he was deadpanned. He shrugged one of his shoulders, rolling his neck slowly before hanging his head with his hands clasped together and resting on his forehead.
"Okay." He said in defeat.
"Okay?" I whispered back.
"Okay," He lifted his head up, "Okay. I'll stop."
"You will?" I nearly cried, brushing away the emotions in my eyes.
"If it means you'll stay with me," Harry's arm reached out and took my hand lazily, "Promise me you'll never leave me, Anna."
In the peak of my adult adolescence, I gullibly told myself a long time ago that I wouldn't leave Harry. At that time I had no idea how hard it was to be in a relationship, nonetheless be in a relationship with someone with a past like Harry's. It was hard. There had been a time in my life where I did want to give up on Harry, that I wanted everything in my life to disappear and fade away. It was in the midst of a self-sabotaging episode where I swore to myself that I was better off alone.
Sometimes I still felt that way. That I'm better off alone because in truth, I've always been independent in a way, even if I had my thoughts controlled for me. I was nearing the age of twenty-two and promising something like that was a lot. I didn't want to leave Harry, that wasn't something that crossed my mind now at this point in our relationship.
But I didn't know if this was a promise I could keep.
I blinked, searching the desperation on his face, "I promise."
Locked in for life, I told myself. I was locked in for life, for a promise that I wasn't sure was in my control. Things happen, tragedies, fights, things that we cannot control and things that we wish we could. If I could somehow wave a wand and wish it all okay, I would. Fuck, I would in a second, but this was real life and things like that didn't exist. The only magic that happened inside of us was when someone made us feel like we could move mountains with how they made us feel.
I was a human, of course, but Harry made me feel like I float like a magical being. Even if some days I find my knees planted to the ground, begging through dirt and soil and fighting with every tooth and nail with him, I had to think about the positives in our relationship.
I wanted to make this work. He was my new family, one that...
One that I wanted to grow a new family with.
Instead of lingering on the subject, I changed it.
"We drank an entire bottle of wine..." I trailed off with a half chuckle.
"Mhm..." Harry's lips wrapped around my jaw, giving it small kisses and gradually following the curve of my neck down to my collarbone, "Been a while since I've drank, feel like a fucking lightweight." Instead of continuing to kiss down my neck, he stopped and pulled himself closer to cuddle into my body from his chair.
"You're such a cuddly drunk," I awed, playing with his curls slowly as my eyes fluttered shut, "Do you want to get ready for bed?"
"Mhm."
My heart swelled at the sudden change, though I wasn't surprised. I wasn't terribly worried about having a few drinks tonight, it was his idea, and I told him he could as long as he was comfortable with that. I trusted him. It took a lot to put my trust into him, knowing he had relapsed, but what is a relationship without trust?
Instead of him trying to rip my clothes off while he was tipsy, he opted for trying to be as close as possible to me. When we finally stood from our seats, we hung onto each other as we lazily sauntered back into the room and began to get ready for bed. While I was stripping myself of my clothes, Harry was having a hard time with his buttons, which was cute to watch as his bottom lip pouted out, failing to somewhat work his thumbs against the buttons.
I pulled on a large shirt, wearing nothing else but just my underwear. Harry was cursing to himself, finally sitting himself down onto the bed as his fingers gave up on the buttons and he let out a sigh.
"Darling?"
"I'm coming," I said in an all knowing tone.
I stood in front of him with a crooked smile, Harry's dimples greeting me with a half smile as he watched me slowly unbutton his shirt. Goosebumps clustered on my arms as his fingers feathered up them, just to trail them back down as his eyes never left my focused gaze on his shirt. Just as I was working on the last button, he leaned up and caught my lips once more. Once the button was undone, my hands tucked underneath his shirt and pressed deeper into the kiss as my hand laid flat on his stomach and the other was pushing his shirt off his shoulder.
He shimmied his shirt off, grasping the fabric and throwing it to the floor before grasping my hips and pulling me closer to him, but in doing so, my knee hit the side of the bed and caused me to fall softly onto him. Harry's back hit the bed, his hand instinctively grabbing my bottom and pulling me fully onto him. Our lips danced together, his lips parting to swipe his tongue against mine, leaving small nibbles on my bottom lip, then pressed deeper into the kiss as his fingers slowly toyed with the string of my underwear, then taking a flat palm to brush over my ass cheek carefully.
Our kisses left us breathless and when we pulled from the kiss, Harry's eyes kept closed with a crooked smile teetering on his lips, his hand still caressing and massaging my bottom. I was incredibly lucky, incredibly grateful to be here with him. Sometimes I felt like God granted me one wish and in my head I conjured up the wish of someone who would love me with all of my fuck ups and flaws, so he put Harry in front of me.
"I have to say something." Harry whispered softly, peeling his reddened eyes open.
"What is it?" I lowered myself onto his body, letting my head rest on his chest as I wrapped myself around his body.
"I'm too tipsy to fuck," Harry said boldly, "But I still want to kiss you."
"Okay?" I giggled, looking back up at him with an amused look.
"Kiss me until I fall asleep," His hand ran over my bum slowly, "I want to fall asleep intoxicated on your kisses."
"Yeah?" I hummed softly, pressing soft kisses to the part of his neck that I could reach without moving.
"Mhm." Harry's eyes fluttered closed.
At that moment, the promise I made earlier made me want to fight anyone who got in the way of destroying it.
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A/N
hope you enjoyed this chapter!
and thank you for 200k!!!!! that's so insane!!!! i love you all!!!
after this, things are gonna start getting bumpy so buckle up!
come find me on twt /shroomiebloomm