Songs:
Eso Y Mas: Joan Sebastian
Infinity: One Direction
Me Soltaste: Jesse Y Joy
A.J.'s POV
After my time in L.A., I headed back to New York. I didn't particularly want to go back, knowing my mother would bother me with her nonsense, despite my having paid her off, but I needed to take care of Odie's transfer papers and make sure everything was done properly so she wouldn't lose any of her credits and to do that, I had to deal with Sarah, who was still her legal guardian until the end of the year. It was going to be difficult having her go from a private school to a public school, but it was what she wanted and it was I did so there wasn't much I could object to, even if I wanted to.
After spending some of the weekend together with my sister and my stepfather and mother, I was finally in my apartment, just relaxing with Honey, waiting for sleep to take over. It was times like these when I heavily considered taking sleeping pills. I tried working out, watching a movie, anything to get me tired before I settled on reading a book. I had looked through all of the books before settling on my Winnie the Pooh book Harry had gotten me a while back, nearly a year ago and a tub of ice cream. It was comforting in a way, not because Harry had given it to me, but because it was something I shared with my brother, Robbie and it was slowly making me sleep, just imagining him reading it to me. Just as if I were a little girl again.
I had no idea how much time had gone by when I heard a loud knock at the door, pulling me from my book. I looked at the time, it was 11:58. Who the hell was at my door at the time? I put my ice cream down on the coffee table, throwing the blanket I was wrapped up in, to the side before heading to the door, Honey following closely behind me. I got the idea to check through the peephole to see who it was, just as I turned the knob and swung the door open. That idea would have been helpful five seconds ago, I scolded myself. Though, I doubt the watchman would let anyone up that they didn't know.
My heart swelled and stopped beating as my eyes fell on my smiling, tall, green-eyed, dimpled visitor. I wrapped myself in my large sweater, picking up Honey who was getting too excited at the sight of our visitor.
"Harry, what are you doing here?" I asked, confused. He stood awkwardly with his legs crossed and his hands behind his back. "It's so late," I added.
He smirked slightly, "almost midnight," his deep voice filled my ears.
I nodded, glad and irritated that he was aware of how late it was. He didn't wait for an invitation, waltzing right in, passing me by, careful to keep his back turned away from me. I shut the door, knowing full on well that he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. I stood there holding Honey in my arms, closer to my chest, waiting for him to explain himself. Instead, I heard shuffling noises from behind his back, getting Honey even more excited.
"Is she yours?" He asked. I could tell he was eager to pet her, but whatever he was hiding behind his back was preventing him from doing so.
I simply nodded, ruffling her fur.
He smiled, his right hand appearing in front of him with a single, Iron Man balloon, handing it over to me. I took it from him, still confused as his hand disappeared behind his back again. This time it reappeared with a very large bouquet of all white lotus flowers, shoving them in my direction. My heart beat faster as I took the large bouquet from him, struggling to hold them and Honey.
I tried to ask him what he was doing as I let Honey down, but another object was making an appearance from around his back. This time with two hands. He held out a small box, gesturing for me to follow him.
He made his way to my living room, taking a seat on the couch, placing the box near my tub of ice cream and picked up Honey who had no trouble getting comfortable in his lap. He patted the spot next to him, not looking at me as he opened the box with his free hand, pulling out a large cupcake and shoving three candles into it as I sat down, making sure to leave plenty of space between us.
Two of the candles were together while one was left on its own as he lit them with the lighter he produced from his coat pocket, making me curious as to why he had a lighter in the first place. He stared at the clock on my wall for a minute, before looking at me again. "Happy twenty first birthday," he finally said, shoving the cupcake in my face. At least the arrangement of the candles made sense now. "Make a wish," he demanded.
I looked at him, suppressing the tears that threatened to leave my eyes. What the hell was he doing? He knew I hated my birthday. And why was he even doing this? I thought about asking him to just leave, but I figured, he was just being nice and kicking him out was kind of mean. I decided to indulge him, if I didn't blow out the stupid candles, he would just keep lighting more until I did.
I blew out the candles quickly, pushing on his wrist to get the smoke away from my face. "This will go good with the cupcake," he grinned, picking up the tub of ice cream.
"Harry, why?" I asked, simply, not knowing of a better way to ask.
"I don't know," he chuckled, "Cake and ice cream just sound good together, I don't make-"
"No," I interrupted. "I mean why are you here?" I asked, pulling Honey into my own lap, annoyed that she took such a liking to him.
He bit his bottom lip, contemplating his answer. "Let's cut the cupcake," he said, handing me a plastic knife that was in the box, completely ignoring my question.
I took the stupid knife from him. "First tell me why you are here?" I questioned him further, gripping the knife. "You know I don't like birthday's and..."
"And, stop being a sass and cut the damn cupcake," he said through a cheeky smile.
I shook my head, rolling my eyes before cutting the damn cupcake. I knew I wasn't going to get a straight answer from him otherwise. As I cut the cupcake, I noticed red crumbs falling onto the table sending waves of pain through my body.
My hand covered my eyes as tears flooded from them. They weren't just tears. I was sobbing silently, my entire body shaking. It was a red velvet cupcake. Red velvet, my favorite and the same cake he would bring me, along with a lotus flowers, every single Sunday while I was pregnant with Sloan, which it now was since it was a little past midnight. I knew he didn't mean it to come across like that, but it felt like he was silently reminding me of my failure.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, genuine concern laced in his voice as he tugged at my wrist to remove my hand from my face.
I pulled away from him, using both hands to cover my face, letting Honey jump off me lap and roam free, not wanting him to see me like this. Just in case this was his plan, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of winning. I kept my hands pressed firmly against my face, trying to calm myself down before I had a panic attack. He gave one final tug at both my wrists, easily removing them from my face. I instantly turned away, still not wanting him to see me.
One hand held onto both my wrists while the other cupped my face, turning it to look at him. "I'm fine Harry," I mumbled, knowing he was waiting on me to answer his earlier question.
"Fuck, I'm such an idiot," he groaned, looking over at the bouquet of flowers, tossing the cupcake back in the box before shutting it closed. "I didn't mean- I wasn't thinking," he rambled.
"It's okay," I assured him, pulling my wrists from him, wiping away my tears and sniffling. I smiled and thanked him, not wanting to turn this into a bigger deal than it was. "How did you even know where I lived?" I asked before he could say anything else.
"A magician never reveals his sources," he smirked slightly, getting the hint that I wanted to move on. "I also brought this," he shrugged, pulling out a DVD case from his coat.
"Home" I scoffed, remembering it was the first movie we watched together.
"Shall we?" He stood up before I could answer.
There was no point in denying whatever he wanted to do. He was going to do whatever he wanted. I swallowed the lump in my throat and leaned back with Honey in my lap, Harry taking his original seat.
I initially watched the movie, mouthing every line and giggling at certain scenes. But, somewhere along the way, Harry's laugh caught my full attention. I stared at him. His hair was growing and his curls were fighting their way back, odd ends sticking up in random places.
I desperately wanted to thread my fingers through each, beautiful strand as I had many times before. I wanted to feel his body weight on me as he laid with me every time we'd watch a movie. I wanted to smell his scent mix with mine from being so close for long periods of time. I wanted to feel his heart beat against mine.
I wanted too much from a man I had decided had no hold of me just days prior.
After not being able to control myself any longer, I exhaled deeply and shakily, getting his attention.
He smiled and reached for a tissue from the coffee table, handing it to me. "It's almost over," he assured me.
It took me a minute to realize he was talking about the movie. I thanked him for the tissue, cleaning myself up as I went and turned it off. I thought about protesting, but there was no point. I hadn't been watching anyway.
"How about another movie?" He suggested, allowing Honey to get comfortable next to him. The little traitor.
"It's really late," I tried to object, though any thoughts of sleep had vanished the second he knocked on my door.
He nodded and stood up, standing awkwardly in front of me. "Um, can I give you a birthday hug?" He asked, nervously chewing on the corner of his bottom lip.
I unconsciously mirrored his actions, softly nodding before I could properly think it through.
In an instant, his arms wrapped around my waist and mine went around his shoulders, holding onto him just as tight as he held onto me. Just like I had craved moments ago, I could feel his heart beating against his chest. It was rhythmic and soothing to the point I lost track of how long we'd been holding onto each other.
Harry's POV
Five minutes. We stayed, wrapped in each other's arms for five entire minutes. Five minutes of feeling her heart beat against mine, her warm breath on my neck, her fingers in my hair. Five minutes of blissfulness.
"M-maybe we can watch another movie?" She sort of asked, sort of agreed to my earlier notion to do the same as she reluctantly let me go.
I nodded, hesitantly letting her go to put on another movie. A comedy of all things.
"Is that my shirt?" I asked, noticing the white fabric. She had a thing for wearing my clothes and the last time I'd seen it was the last time I'd seen her.
She looked down, her cheeks reddening, wrapping her oversized sweater around herself which I also recognized as mine. She did too judging by her expression, but I didn't say anything, not wanting to further embarrass her.
"I'll get it back to you," she mumbled, taking her seat once more.
"It's okay. Keep it. It always looked better on you anyway," I insisted. She always had a thing for wearing my clothes and making them look like they were hers to begin with. Though I had often complained, I loved seeing her wear my clothes.
Not another word was exchanged between us, our only focus on the movie. That was until she leaned down, resting her head over my lap.
The sudden movement caught my off guard, but it all became clearer when I saw her closed eyes and her body curling up into a little ball.
She was sleeping.
I smiled to myself, moving her short, lighter hair away from her face. I hated it, if I was being completely honest. Yes, she looked beautiful either way. There was nothing this woman couldn't pull off, but it didn't look like my Katarina. I missed her long, dark hair.
I sighed and ran my fingers through her straightened hair, further deepening her sleep.
I thought about just staying like this through the night, but decided giving her a headache for her birthday wasn't the best of ideas.
As gently as I could, I stood up, careful not to wake her. Once I was sure she was sound asleep, I went in search of her bedroom, which wasn't hard to find in the tiny apartment.
Now that I looked around, I realized how minimalistic everything was. Every thing was plain, solid colors. Boring. There was no trace of her anywhere. No music, no paint. Not easily visible at least.
A quick scan of her new bedroom, sort of reminded me of her old bedroom back in London when she stayed with Chris and Samara. Except this place didn't even have a picture to adorn it. Just white bedding and cheap furniture.
I sighed once more, pulling back the sheets, preparing the bed for her before returning to the living room.
I thought about waking her and walking her to her bed, but decided to just scoop her up and taking her myself.
As I settled her beneath her sheets, her dog settled herself at her feet, she began to stir, making me shush her to keep her from waking, something I'd seen her do with Tommy and Lux when we had watched them.
She easily slipped back into sleep, letting me go and curling back up on her side, facing away from me. I smiled, softly kissing her cheek goodnight.
"Harry?" She mumbled.
"I'm right here Katarina," I assured her, rubbing her back.
"Don't go," she whined, a clear indication that she was more asleep than awake. "Stay," she pouted when she heard no response, tugging on my arm.
"Okay, love," I whispered, making my way around the bed and laying down, making sure to keep my distance though I ached to have her in my arms.
"I'm cold," she complained, moving her balled up body closer to mine.
I smiled to myself, knowing I'd never get this much out of her if she was fully awake.
Again, I moved her hair away, softly caressing her cheek with the back of my hand, her lips slightly parting as she fell back into a deep sleep.
"I love you baby," I whispered. "Happy birthday."
A.J.'s POV
The sun light that poured through my curtains finally woke me up from the best sleep I had in a very long time. I tried to get up or at least roll over, but my body felt too heavy to move, more indication that I had slept long and well.
As I laid in bed, perfectly still, I remembered the previous night, or early this morning. Harry had come over to wish me a happy birthday. We watched movies. I didn't remember anything after that. I don't even remember getting to bed.
It wasn't until I smelled his familiar scent lingering and a dip in the pillow next to mine that I realized he had stayed the night.
Not trusting myself, my stiffness vanished, quickly sitting up to check I still had all my clothes on. Not only was I fully dressed, but I was still in my sweater and my slippers.
Once I became more aware, I wondered where Harry was. He had probably left ages ago. Of course he would. There was no reason for him to stay.
I groaned, annoyed with myself for these annoying feeling, grabbing my phone which I remembered was in my sweaters pocket.
I had several missed call, social media notifications and texts from people wishing me a happy birthday. I exhaled deeply, not ready for a day filled with me having to be polite and distribute fake smiles in gratitude for a day I loathed more than anything.
I tossed my phone on the bed, decided to just take a shower before I began the day from hell and wishing to wash away any trace of Harry before my imagination got carried away. I'd have to wash my sheets and blankets later.
After a long and soothing shower of empty thoughts and a silent prayer to my father and brother, I dressed myself in a pair of overalls, throwing up my wet hair in a half ponytail since it was all I could get up and headed to my office slash music room.
I looked around, nothing really capturing my attention. I wanted to play something. Anything, but I didn't know what. I started off in front of a keyboard, my fingers ghosting over the keys.
Seeing as I wasn't comfortable with any piano just yet, I settled for an old guitar.
Harry's POV
I had woken up a few hours ago. I knew I should have left last night after Katarina had finally fallen asleep, but I myself ended up falling asleep. The first peaceful, uninterrupted sleep I had since she had gone. When I woke up this morning, I just laid there, watching her, convinced that she was just a figment of my imagination as she always was. I stayed perfectly still, just watching her, hoping she wouldn't disappear until I had fully woken up and realized I wasn't dreaming and she wasn't just a product of my sleep deprived imagination. She was actually here.
Well, I was here, in her apartment. I had actually woken up in her bed. Had slept beside her. I suppose that could account for my uninterrupted sleep. I always slept better with her near.
After regaining full consciousness, I decided to make Katarina breakfast to celebrate her birthday. Though I knew she despised the day, I also knew she had a right to have this day made about her before her friends and family took over and made it a huge party which she hated even more than the actual acknowledgement of the special occasion. That and it conveniently landed on a Sunday, which meant I could make her, her favorite breakfast. Waffles.
I searched her uncharacteristically small kitchen for a waffle iron until I found one stuffed in the back of a cabinet, still in its box.
Once I had successfully made her a full breakfast and a giant mess, I placed all the food on a large wooden tray, carefully making my way back to her bedroom only to find and empty bed. I smiled to myself, hoping she had just woken up and I'd be able to see her in a groggy state, which I missed.
After a few minutes of waiting, I figured she wasn't even in the room, so I set out to find her, my ears immediately hearing the sound of what sounded like a guitar to me.
I followed the noise to a small room near her bedroom, pushing the door slightly open. There in the corner of the crowded room, occupying a stool, was a freshly showered Katarina with a guitar in her lap, strumming the strings softly with her eyes shut.
She continued to strum for a bit longer, still not aware of my presence before she stopped, taking in a deep breath and began to sing, in Spanish by the initial sound of it.
It started off breathy yet soft, her eyes screwed shut in concentration as her voice went deeper, louder, more powerful, the beautiful sound filling the entire room so easily, a small growl coming out before she eased her way back to a soft almost lullaby like sound and began playing the guitar to accompany her, taking in unsteady breaths before she continued.
The longer I listened, the more it hurt. Though I didn't understand the lyrics she was singing, I understood the pain she was letting out. I felt the tears that rolled down her cheeks, each striking me and making me cry right along with her.
Her voice continued to grow in power and hurt and decline to softness, her voice nearly screeching in some parts which simply added to the feeling, as if she had planned it out perfectly.
"That was beautiful," I whispered as she finished, not caring if I scared her or not, which judging by her slight jump, I had.
"I thought you left," she cleared her throat, sniffling as she set the guitar aside to quickly wipe away her tears.
"I uh," I sniffled too and wiped my own tears. "I made you a birthday breakfast." I cleared my throat as well, realizing that I was mimicking her this time.
"Oh," was all she said, her eyes in a daze.
I bit the corner of my lip as I watched her, neither one of us knowing what to say or do next.
"What's that song called?" I asked, cutting through the tension.
"Um, Me Soltaste," she bowed her head slightly.
"It was beautiful," I repeated stupidly.
"Um, it's supposed to be accompanied with a piano," she clarified nervously.
"Why didn't you use one?" I asked pointing to one of the keyboards behind her.
She turned to see what I was pointing at, though I was sure she knew exactly what it was, she just needed and excuse to look away. "I uh. I haven't used one in a while," she admitted, looking back at me.
I instantly knew what she was referring to. Her father's piano that I had pulverized with a fucking bat. I desperately wanted to get down on my knees to apologize and beg her forgiveness, but I knew that would only amplify her hurt and hate towards me. And although I deserved it and was more than willing to accept it, I didn't think today was the day to it.
"What does the song mean?" I turned the conversation back around, hoping to avoid some emotional breakdown on both our parts.
"Um," she scoffed and chuckled, biting her bottom lip. "I guess it's a break up song," she shrugged.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"It sounded- painful," I said, stupidly.
She laughed and shook her head. "Break ups tend to be painful Harry. Very painful."
"I know," I struggled to let out the words without chocking. "But, you broke up with me, remember."
Her eyes welled up with fresh tears in an instant. "I know," she mumbled, a tear rolling down each cheek. "But you hurt me Harry."
"I didn't mean to, baby. I swear-"
"But, you did!" She pointed out.
"Because I was hurt, Katarina. We lost a baby-"
"I was hurt, too Harry. Like you just said. WE lost a baby. We did. Not just you. Not just me. I admit I didn't help any in that situation either, but you just gave up on us Harry. You gave up on me when I needed you the most. You left me. Maybe not physically. But, you left me long before I walked out the door, don't forget that. Don't you forget that," she muttered through tears, accusing me. "I needed you and you weren't there. I know that maybe it was a lot for me to ask of you. But I wasn't. I didn't know how to deal with that. Losing a parent- losing a sibling, it's nothing compared to losing your baby. And it killed me Harry. It killed me that I did that to us."
"Oh, no baby. No. No you didn't do anything and I am sorry if I ever made you feel that way." I tried to get closer, but she only took two steps back, putting her arms up in a defensive manner. Almost like a small child.
"I need you to leave, Harry," she whimpered, as if she didn't want it, but needed it.
I tried to get closer once more, but she shoved my away, wiping her tears away, her vulnerability fading and a stone like expression taking over. An expression I had only witnessed a few times. Mostly around her mother and grandfather. I was now one of them. A person she feared. A person who she felt she needed to protect herself from. I was now that very thing I hated.
I backed away as soon as I came to the realization, somehow hoping to ease her pain and need to protect herself with a mere distance between us.
"Happy birthday," I whispered with a gentle smile, suppressing my urge to reach out and touch her.
She nodded, looking away and crossing her arms over herself.
I took her silence as my cue and left, not bothering to collect my things.