"I- I don't do relationships. I'm more of a one time and done type of person. So there's that to take into consideration." I say to Abby, chewing on my lower lip. She doesn't press me to speed up or get to the point, she just listens. "So, I don't really like when a man repeatedly whispers that he 'cares about you'. I'm sweating and I can barely breathe and-"
"Hey, calm down. You're getting all worked up over here." Abby grabs my arm, and I take a deep breath. "Relax, it's a few words."
"But he's making me believe it. I'm believing that he actually cares for me when he says it, and I hate it." I feel like I'm on the brink of a panic attack, my throat feels numb and so do my finger tips.
"What happened? I mean, to make you think like that." Abby looks at me with sincere eyes, completely catching me off guard.
"I have horrible, horrible parents." I tell her, trying not to cry.
"He's not your mom or dad, Shae. And I actually think he means what he's saying to you." Abby tries to make me feel better, but I'm too far gone. This is all too much. Within minutes I'm standing in the middle of the room, gasping for air. My heart races in my chest, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I hear Abby talking next to me, but I can't hear her.
Harry's POV:
"Nah, just girl stuff." Shae says, and I watch her walk through the doorway.
"What's your name?" That little punk asks, running his fingers through his brown hair.
"Harry." I look into the kitchen, but he's not done.
"What were you guys yelling about?" He asks. What did she call him? Joey or some shit?
"Adult stuff." I reply shortly, hoping he gets that I don't want to talk,
"Man, you're a douche." Joey says, and I look over in a amusement.
"Wow, that really hurt my feelings, 10 year old." Don't be a dick, I can be a better one.
"Fuck you." Joey says, staring straight into my eyes. "Why are you even here?"
"Brought Shae home." I pull up my pants which are sagging a little too low, and look over at the kid.
"I mean in the house." He clarifies, and I roll my eyes.
"I wasn't done with her. I wasn't going to let her leave angry at me." Why am I explaining myself to him.
"Why don't you just let her be? She already has enough going on, you don't need to add more stress to her life." Joey says, and I look over at him. I ponder the thought of that, but it doesn't last long.
"There's just something about her that is so different, and I don't know what it is. It's refreshing and I-" I hear a noise from the bedroom, and start walking, then pick up a jog.
"It's fine, they're just talking." Joey says, trying to grab my arm as I run by.
"Shae?!" I yell, rounding the corner to find the room. As soon as I walk into the room, I start panicking. "What's happening?!" I shout, grabbing Shae's waist as faces the wall.
"Don't- don't touch her. Hold on, she's having a panic attack." A blonde girl says, Abby? Addy? Something like that.
"How do we stop it?" I stop myself from grabbing Shae, and making her face me.
"We just have to wait. And step back, she'll feel claustrophobic." Joey says, grabbing me by the shoulder. Fucking showing me up. "Let's give her some space." Joey takes Abby's hand, then grabs my shoulder.
"Let go of me. I'm staying in here." What kind of sick bastard would I be if I left her alone when she could barely breathe?
"Come on, Harry. Just give her a minute to get herself together. You're gonna make her uncomfortable." Joey's clearly getting annoyed with me but I don't care.
"Then get the fuck out! Stop worrying about what I do!" I snap, and Joey rolls his eyes then walks away. I slam the door behind him, and turn back to Shae. "You okay?" I ask, and she turns around. Her breathing is heavy and her fingertips shake against her cheekbones. Her face is pale and she keeps making a weird noise when she's breathing. "Hey." I basically whisper, prying her hands from her face, and taking them in mine. I stare into her eyes while she searches mine. Searching for an anchor to hold her down. "You okay?" I finally ask once she's breathing almost normal.
"Mmhmm." She hums, closing her eyes. I still have my fingers around her clammy hands, drawing circles on the soft backs.
"Don't lie to me." I whisper, and she presses her lips firmly together. She shakes her head 'no' and I squeeze her hands.
"No what?" I question, moving my hands to her face. She pulls my hands away, and I try not to feel the rejection blazing in my stomach.
"No I'm not telling the truth." She looks away from my face, and I move my hands to her cheeks again.
"Tell me what's wrong, Shae." I practically beg, and she steps back.
"Everyone that says they care about me just ends up leaving me." She says forcefully, and I sit on the bed.
"They're not me." I look over at her face, staring into her blue eyes, and trying not to look at those damn dimples. I'll break down begging on my knees for her.
"Why would you care about me? There's no reason to. We barely even know each other." She whispers, and I stand up again.
"I'm just really attracted to everything about you. Your personality, your smile, your ability to fucking irritate me- I'll prove it."
"Okay." Shae says, but I feel like she's saying the giving in 'okay', like it's just to shut me up.
"Why are you crying?" I ask softly, and watch her turn away. I didn't even notice because of those damn silent tears.
"I just need to go to bed." Shae mumbles, walking out of the room.
Shae's POV:
I walk out of the room, and hear Harry behind me, following me out. I go to my bedroom, and change into sweatpants and a sweatshirt, then walk to the kitchen for some headache pills. Harry's sitting at the kitchen table, and when he sees me he stands.
"I'm gonna head out." He says, and I watch him for a moment.
"Do you wanna stay the night?" I shift my feet, and he nods.
"I'll be right back, I've got some clothes in my car." Harry jogs outside, then comes back holding sweatpants and a t-shirt. He finds the bathroom, then changes and meets me back in the kitchen.
"I'm exhausted." I tell him, and he shoves his hands into his pockets.
"Yeah, I'll sleep in that guest bedroom down here, but I'll walk you up." Harry says, and I trudge up the steps to my room. He stops at my doorway, and so do I. "You okay now?" I nod, breathing out heavily.
"Can you sleep in here?" I ask, and Harry looks at me.
"Yes, definitely." Harry perks up, and I shut my door behind Harry, then turn off the light. I slide into bed, facing Harry and feeling safe. He makes me feel safe. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure." I answer, and Harry levels his face with mine.
"Do you get those things a lot? Those attacks?" Harry asks, and I shrug.
"I get a lot of small ones, and occasionally a big one like a little while ago." I explain, and he looks at his large feet.
"How- what do you want me to do? To help you I mean." Harry meets my eyes, and I rub my hipbone with the palm of my hand.
"I don't really know. Just do what I say, I guess." I haven't been having panic attacks for all that long, only about 3 years. I turn around, and stand at the foot of my bed. "Do you prefer a side?"
"No." Harry stands behind me, and I walk to the right side of the bed. He climbs in, and sits up on the left side.
"Need anything?" I ask, sitting up with him. He leans forward, and presses his lips softly to mine. Just a simple peck, but I feel tingling in my toes and fingertip. The inside of my stomach seems to flip over, and when he pulls back, I drift my fingers to the back of his head, pulling him back to me for just a moment longer. "Goodnight." Harry pulls the covers up to my neck, and I turn to my left side, away from him. "I think you're lovely- for the record."
"You're alright." I tease, and hear Harry laugh softly.
"Can I move closer?" He asks, and I don't even think about my answer.
"Yes." I whisper, and feel the bed shift. We're not touching, but I can feel his presence close to me. "How did you get into drugs and alcohol and stuff?"
"I didn't." Harry replies shortly, and I look at my hands which are positioned loosely in front of me.
"But I've seen you on 'E! News' and stuff all drunk and high." I explain my though process, and turn over.
"They only catch my bad moments." Harry says, and I look up at him.
"I have a lot of bad moments." I admit, and Harry makes eye contact with me. I can see the beautiful green of his eyes through the dark, staring straight into mine.
"We all have them." Harry says, trying to make me feel better.
"I have an exceptional amount. Like my whole life is just bad moment after bad moment and between are the rare good parts." I speak quickly, sharing how I feel for one of the first times in my life.
"What are the good parts like?" Harry asks, searching my eyes.
"Scary."
"How come?"
"Because I just know something horrible's going to happen next. It just makes me anxious and fearful and angry and scared." Harry places his hand over mine, dragging his fingertips along my fingers. "And sometimes, I just snap."
"What happens when you snap?" Harry asks, and I sigh.
"It could be anger, or tears, or stupid decisions, it all depends." Harry reaches out and pushes a piece of hair out of my face.
"I'll be here when you do." Harry says, and I laugh.
"No, you'll be a million miles away at the first sign of a meltdown." Harry shakes his head, and I roll my eyes. We lay in silence for a few minutes, and at first it's uncomfortable. I look anywhere but his face, and try to keep my hands busy. When I finally allow myself a look at his face, the sight of him soothes the tension in my body. He's studying my face, his eyes traveling along my lips, my nose, my cheekbones, and my eyes.
"How many guys have you had sex with?" Harry asks, and I cough out of shock.
"What?" I say, even though I heard him. "Uh, none actually. How many girls have you slept with?"
"Really? A few." Harry answers vaguely, and I raise my eyebrows.
"About how many?" I ask, and he chews on the inside of his cheek.
"I'm not sure. A lot." Harry admits, and I nod, then look away. "That was not the thought I wanted in your head before you slept next to me."
"You basically begged for me to put it there." I snap, and Harry sighs.
"I was wondering about you." Harry says, and I scoff.
"You don't ask a question and expect not to be asked it back." I flip over angrily, and Harry stays silent.
"I'm sorry." Harry whispers, then I hear him shift closer. "I'm sorry, Shae." He waits for a few moments, then slides behind me. He drapes one arm over my body, and traps my legs between his. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay." I say, and Harry's soft breathing warms my neck. He leans over me, and presses his lips softly to mine for a few seconds before eventually we both fall asleep.