Chapter 47
Sometimes you can't explain what you see in a person. It's just the way they take you to a place where no one else can.
Harry didn't let go of me for the rest of the day, only once, when Lucas told everyone to get out of the office so he could talk privately with Harry. I kissed him softly, tenderly, before following my father outside, into the hallway, with the others. I stood with my back against the wall, trying to make sense of everything, and when Harry walked back out, I still had nothing.
I'm just happy he's safe, and here with me. Happy, glad, ecstatic, delighted, every other synonym that there possibly is, and I'm that.
I can finally tell him what's been bottled up inside of me, but not here. Not now. I want to do it later when we're finally alone, and I can confess my heart to him without prying eyes.
That's why when Lucas said Harry and I could go home, I was overjoyed. I still hadn't uttered a single word, and maybe I finally can now. Lucas will tell Jess and the others what happened if word hadn't spread already, so I don't worry about them right now.
I have time for that later.
And that's when I finally have the thought that...everything will be slowing down now. How drastic will things change now? Evan is out of the picture, he's gone for good, no longer hovering over our shoulders. The whole purpose of the organization was to stop Evan and his men, and it's been done. Of course there will be few months of waiting to see if anyone left will start something again, but I don't think they will, honestly.
Maybe now Lucas and Regina can tie the knot and live in peace. Jess can move forward with her life without the looming threat of the past haunting her. She'll find her place in the world and figure out her relationship with Steven.
Harry and I can finally move forward. And no matter how hard the butterflies' wings pound against my stomach at the thought, I can't wait. It'll be scary, but that's how life works.
If you're not moving forward, then you're moving back.
Quite frankly, I don't want to move backwards, because the past was not as bright as I see the future. It was dark, full of constant fear, and I hated it.
Harry certainly isn't the same person I met the night of the party, but that's only because he's opened up to me, he let me see what was behind the cruel face and stone cold eyes. I will take this man in all his forms, because all of his forms make him the man I love. And now that I have him back, I will not be letting him go. I won't let him slip past my guard, out of my heart, for as long as I live.
My heart pumps even faster than it did when I start him again as it finally sinks in that Harry admitted he loves me. He said it as soon as he possible could, in front of people and all, but low enough that only I could hear it.
He loves me.
Harry Styles loves me.
"What're you thinking about?" He asks as I return to the present. He closes the door to his flat, tugging at the ends of his curls, and strolls painlessly over to me. I was glad to hear my father say he didn't have any major problems or injuries that he could tell.
He doesn't close the gap between us, keeping distance for some reason I couldn't comprehend. I took initiative and moved closer to him, silently telling him that I wanted to be as close as possible. I wrapped my arms around his waist, his around my shoulders, and I take in the warm of him. I imagine the many nights to come; we'll be cuddled under the sheets to keep warm from the nippy air.
My eyes flutter closed with the simple sensation of him, taking my time to enjoy it because I know that I'll have to go home in the morning. With a grin playing on my lips, I utter a vague, "Nothing."
Truth be told, I was thinking of millions of things, unable to decide which was most important at the time.
"Surely you have something to say," he dryly chuckles. I smile against his vibrating chest.
"I have plenty to say," I respond. "I just don't know where to start."
"Well, how about we start after I clean off, yeah?" His hands rub up and down my back. I nod, smelling the days of sweat and nastiness on him that I've tried my best to not focus on. He then adds hesitantly, "Will you join me?"
Pulling back enough to see him clearly, I tug on my bottom lip. "No," I bat my eyelashes.
However, I do end up in the same bathroom with him. I sit comfortably on the toilet as he quickly stripped down and started the shower. Things were quiet. We stayed like this with a curtain between us, but it seemed like things were so much more open. I don't know how or why exactly, but they do. The fact that he could say something, anything, at any moment terrifies me because I don't know what he'll ask.
Calm down, Shay. It's just Harry.
I blushed furiously as he cut the water and stepped out with no warning. Ducking my head down to give him some sort of privacy, I can hear him chuckle at my small, innocent move. He pulls on a pair of clean black boxers and I can finally go back to ogling him whilst biting the inside of my cheek. Next he steps into gray sweatpants with the draw strings hanging loosely, and a plain white tank top. I'll admit that the small bathroom is quite heated and foggy, so it's understandable that he'll done that kind of shirt, but I know for a fact that once we step back into his room, it'll be cold even with the heater that hardly works.
I undo my crossed legs so my feet are flat on the floor, and Harry steps between them, taking my hand in his like he's done more times than I can count.
"How do you feel about a night in front of the fireplace?" He mutters.
I furrow my eyebrows. "But, you don't have a fireplace."
"Technically, no, I don't. But I think the TV screen would suffice."
Back out to the main room, Harry turns on the TV and clicks a few buttons before a realistic looking fireplace shows up. It moves just like a real fire would, but the only downside is that there's no real heat. Harry leads me to the floor with him, laying on my back on the carpet, as he rested to my left. His curls tickle my neck when his head covers the left side of my chest and shoulder. I wonder why he does this until I hear him sigh in contentment and wraps his arm around my waist, snaking under my shirt to rub the skin on my hip. He's listening to my heartbeat.
I can imagine what he's hearing right now, an erratic heart racing to a nonexistent finish line. It pumps blood through my veins at the speed of light. But I only come up with one reason why he's happy to hear it. Harry went through God knows what up north. He thought he would die, probably believed it at one point, and thought he wouldn't be able to see me again. He wouldn't be able to do this anymore, see me just like I feared not being able to see him. He's savouring the moment.
I tangle my digits in his damp hair, scratching ever so slightly and he nuzzles into me even more.
"You're still not saying anything," he observes, disrupting the silence.
"I missed you," I whisper.
Harry props his head up on his arm to get a good look at me and my hand drops from his hair. His eyes eventually changed back to the green that I love; his lips are pink and full instead of pale and thin. Overall, I think that shower did very good things to Harry's skin, almost like it brought his skin back to life.
"I missed you, too, Shay," he says, leaning down to kiss me just once. "Now how about you tell me what's on your mind." It wasn't a question but more of a statement. He wants to know what I'm thinking about, but he doesn't want to push me. He never wants to push me.
Why can't I say something? It's like now that he's back I'm a mute when he wants to talk. I can't speak, well, moreover that I don't know what to say.
"Baby, why are you being so quiet?" He pauses before adding, "Is it...is it because of what I said earlier?" It's like a wrestling bell rings when he says this, but I don't know why know I'm only thinking about it this way. "I'm sorry," he says, "if I put myself out there, but I-I had to get it off my chest. I didn't mean to put you on the spot or anything─"
"Harry," I croak. "Don't apologise."
"I just don't want you to regret not saying anything, because you don't have to. I said it because I meant it and you shouldn't feel pressure to say it back."
He meant it.
I look solemnly at Harry as he said those words, thinking about how he doesn't know how I really feel. I share the same feelings as Harry, I do.
"Harry, I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't have given my all to you, if I didn't...if I didn't love you."
There. It's out now. I said it to the one it was meant for, finally. There's no going back─ like I would ever want to. The atmosphere seems to physically relax, like the world is taking a deep breath, as we stare at the others shadow casted face.
But things were even more electric when he rolls on top of me, hands on my face, our hips lining up perfectly, and presses his lips to mine frantically. I happily respond, arching my back and dig my nails into his biceps that flex under my touch. Our brains are thinking alike, Harry sitting back on my legs but makes sure not to crush me, and I sit up, keeping our mouths connected. His tongue swipes over my bottom lip, warily asking permission when it's not needed. I let him proceed without a pause, our noses bumping as I tilt my head.
"Let me make love to you," he whispers against my mouth. "And this time, it'll be right and sentimental."
"Yes," I say. "Yes, a million times, yes."
His hands fiddle with the hem of my shirt, pulling it off of me. I assist him in the removal of his own top, reconnecting our lips in a hurry. I shiver, lying back down, but not from the cold this time. No, it's because of Harry. He leaves a trail of kisses down my neck, over my collarbones, to the swells of my breast, and then my ribcage. He stops when he reaches the top of my jeans, glancing for more than a moment, tracing circles into my hips.
And the button is popped open.
***
I was momentarily left breathless, cold and shaking as Harry searched for a warm blanket whilst naked in the living room. I stared after him, watching the muscles in his back move, and the light catches the red scratches I left down his back and arse. I no longer feel the need to look away as he strolls back over, mainly because we just shared the most sentimental─ I believe ─we've ever had. There's no shame now, no hiding.
He sits down in the space next to me, throwing the woollen blanket over us, and he finds my waist once more.
Now that the most important topic is lifted from my shoulders, I have to move on to the next one. Right now may not be the most convenient time to talk over touchy subjects, so more than others, but at least right now I know I have the time to go over them. Harry needs to know about his mum, and I need to know about the future.
"Things are going to change, aren't they?" I utter, scared that if I say it aloud, it may actually happen.
"Yeah," Harry confirms, sighing. "They are. But I swear that it'll be for the better."
"How?" I don't want the worst, but it's all I know at this point.
Harry runs a hand through his rough, drying hair. And suddenly he's gone, yet again, sitting up with his legs out in front of him, adjusting the cover. "I don't know," he says, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He's trying to fight off the drowsiness that wants to overcome him. "But I will."
"Maybe you should get some rest─"
"No," he looks over his shoulder sharply. "I have too many things to think about before I sleep."
I sit up too, tugging the blanket around my chest, and hide my body behind Harry. I try to comfort him by peppering sweet kisses to his shoulder, but it only helps fractionally.
"I'm not losing you."
I lightly roll my eyes at the crazy statement. "You won't─"
"I don't know that," he breaths, looking over his shoulder at me. "You don't know that, and I'm not willing to risk losing you because of all the shit I get myself in. I've already talked to Lucas and I've told him I'm resigning next week─"
"No, Harry─"
"It's too late," he cuts me off quickly. "I've made my decision. I..." Harry smiles, somehow amused, "I want a chance at a normal life, and I want a chance at a normal relationship. With you, Shay."
I swallow the lump in my throat. "Normal is cliché and overrated," I breathe against his skin, raising goosebumps.
"Well it sure beats risking your life every day by walking two feet out your door."
I've never heard Harry talk like this, ever. He's always been alright with his profession, and he loved what he did, he was passionate about helping his friends and saving people even when he never got recognition for it. I guess, now that Evan is no longer a threat, Harry wants to settle down a bit, take it slower since his life has been moving so fast since he was a teen.
"And," he adds, taking my chin between his thumb and index finger, "I want to focus solely on you, and on us, for the time being."
"Are you sure?" I watch him carefully.
"Absolutely."
We lay in each other's arms, Harry's mouth by my ear as he whispers songs to me. I never knew he sung, but damn anyone who says he can't. His low voice licks at my nerves making it nearly impossible to sleep; but somehow, he lulls me to the dark.
***
I wake with chills and a dry mouth. Harry was no longer beside me on the floor and I don't remember him getting up. My body is covered well with the blanket, but it doesn't get rid of all the cold air. Harry really needs to fix his heater.
I can hear rustling in the kitchen so I decide that it'd be best to get up now and eat with Harry. The sky is still gray and gloomy, the exact opposite of how I feel right now. The birds could be singing and my heart would sing along with them.
My hand was pressed to the door leading into the kitchen when I heard a familiar harsh tone speak low, like it was trying to suppress anger.
"Why are you calling her?"
I'm quickly confused, but I can't help to lean against the frame, and listen further. Her. Does he mean me? I look around for my clothes that had been carelessly thrown on the ground in the heat of things last night. I didn't bother with them afterwards, but now I can see they're nowhere in sight. If Harry is speaking about me, and somebody was calling me, Harry must've answered while I was still asleep.
But who's calling me?
It can't be Jess or Dad because Lucas has taken care of them for me. There's no one else.
"How the hell did you even get her number?" Harry seethes as he paces.
There's a pause. I don't breathe, afraid, for some reason, that I may be caught. In all actuality, Harry should be scared to get caught...depending on who he's talking to. I'm not that stingy when it comes to my phone, but Harry seems pretty pissed, so I can't help but wonder who has my number that he doesn't necessarily want me associating with.
"What do you mean she visited you?"
My face drops immediately, knowing exactly who he's conversing with. And shit, it wasn't good. I mentally slap my forehead for forgetting to tell Harry about his mum, about me going to see her. Now she's calling me─ probably to see if we're coming to the wedding that Harry doesn't know about.
There's an even longer pause, and I take this as my opportunity to walk in and hope that Harry won't yell at me.
He stands with one hand flat on the counter, facing the door as if he was waiting for me to walk in, and maybe he was. The other was holding up my phone to his ear, and I notice his expressionless face as he listens to his mother for the first time in years.
"I see," he finally says, not taking his eyes off me. With tightly pursed lips, he says, "We'll get back to you on that," and hangs up without another word.
Silence hangs in the air, but I'm quick to break it. "Are you mad?" I stay still, thinking that maybe if I'm motionless, the blow will be much less harder to take.
"Mad at you? No," Harry shakes his head. "Mad that you didn't tell me you were going to find my mother? Yes. Why didn't you tell me?" I can tell he's trying to hold back as much frustration as he can.
"Harry, it was a last minute decision. How was I supposed to tell you anyways? You were gone!" I wave my arm in a random direction to make my point.
"It doesn't matter. You shouldn't have gone snooping in my past. I didn't want my mother to know about me or you for that matter!" I blanch at his statement, and Harry realises what he just said. "That's not what I meant. I meant that I didn't want to put my life on her shoulders again. I left her long ago; I don't deserve to go back to her just because all of this is over."
I can understand that, I can, but even so, I would've gone looking for her anyways. So I keep my mouth shut, not giving that piece of information away. It wouldn't help my case.
"How did you find her, anyhow?" He raises his eyebrows at me.
I'm hesitant to give her away, but there's no way around it. Harry's only told less than hand full of people and he'd go to each of them until he got the truth. "Regina," I utter lowly.
"Damn that woman!" He exasperates.
"Harry, she's your mother. I would've been curious whether or not you liked it!" I retort.
"Yeah, well, you don't see me going through your family's past, do you?"
"Oh my gosh, Harry," I laugh without amusement. "You can go see my mother and brother anytime you please. I'm not going to stop you!"
I find it ridiculous that we're having a fight the day after he comes back about something that's really not up for discussion. Harry seems to catch onto this as he steadies his breathing, but I have a feeling he won't let this go easily.
"Listen, I just didn't want to drag her into all of this," he sighs, messing with his wild curls. It's only now that I notice he's in a big jumper and sweatpants as I only stand in a blanket wrapped securely around me.
I find it in me to step around the counter, closer to him. "Well aren't you glad there's nothing to drag her into anymore?"
Harry looks at me with a much softer expression than before. Abruptly, he grabs onto my cover, forcing me into his arms, and against the counter.
"I feel...undeserving of a mother, especially after just leaving her," he confesses.
"Well, that'll be awkward when we go to her wedding because she's dying to see you again." I said it in the best way I could. Straight forwards and honest. What surprises me is that Harry doesn't look like this is news him. "B-but you already knew about the wedding..."
He nods. "She just told me."
"Are you okay with it?"
"It's not like I really have a choice, yeah?" He frowns. "It's their decision. Besides, I'm sure he's better than my prick of a father."
I don't argue with him. What Harry's father did was horrible, leaving because he didn't get what he wanted. Harry doesn't need someone like that in his life, or Angela. They both deserve to be happy, and I think Harry is, but Angela wants her son back and he doesn't think he's commendable enough to be accepted back into her life.
"Will you please go with me to her wedding?" I ask gently.
"No," he says without a second thought.
I whine, "Why not?"
"Because I said so. If you want to go, I can't stop you. You're strong minded as usual and you'll fight with me on the subject, and I don't want that. But I won't be going with you."
I grumble under my breath, rolling my eyes, "You're stubborn."
Harry doesn't understand that I'm very strong minded and I won't be giving up this conversation. He can think he won this time, but he hasn't.
I'm suddenly lifted to sit on the counter with Harry between my legs before I can shut them. Cool air brushes my exposed thigh as I struggle to keep the cover wrapped around me.
"And you should walk around naked more often." I scoff at his suggestive remark, but he shows off a dimpled grin. Biting my lip, I think of something that will get him hot and bothered. I can give him a taste of what he does to me.
"Good thing we have the whole day to ourselves," I lean in so I'm at his ear, my teeth grazing it confidently.
Harry groans lowly, pressing me tighter against him. "God, I love you."
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