Leslie.
I can't move. I'm frozen in my thoughts.
After Zayn and Perrie share their kiss, I clap lightly and turn around. No one is sitting there anymore. Did I imagine this?
No one knows about his joke with raspberry body paint and it was him. It was his voice and I don't know how to react.
"Leslie?" I hear Sophia call, my eyes flickering to meet her gaze.
"Hey, are you alright? It looks like you've seen a ghost," she says, grabbing my hand.
"I-I'm fine," I say, nodding my head. We walk out of the church and the tall figure is leaning against a street lamp, most of the people ignoring him. Am I the only one who can see him?
"Sophia, can you see that man?" I ask, her head nodding.
"Liam said he isn't from around here," she says, my eyebrows frowning. If he was here, he couldn't have gotten that far. It can't be. Can it?
My actions think before my mind and I grab the man's wrist, his body turning to face me. He doesn't move and I can feel everyone's attention on me. Gulping my nerves, I move his hood off his head and he stays silent, breathing controlled for I can tell he's trying to stay calm.
My fingers remove the beanie and long chestnut brown curls fall from the hat, my heart beating way too fast. The man stays still and my eyes longingly look amongst him, unable to look away. His hands lay beside his hips, his long hair undoubtedly going uncut for weeks.
After I take a deep breath, my nearly shaking hands move to the sunglasses. As I move my fingers to the corners, my hands slowly pull them down. His eyes are closed and I fold the glasses, setting them in his pocket. I move my hands to the crook of his neck and he slowly opens his eyes, my eyes releasing tears that I didn't know were even there.
Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, he moves his arms around my waist. I cry in his open arms, his head burying into my neck. I should've known. The boots are the same as well as his jeans; I'm too naïve but I can't wrap my mind around this.
"He's-" Sophia gasps, my hands tight around his shoulders.
"How is it..." someone trails, my ears hearing every confused gasp and question asked. I don't want to move. I've missed this so much.
"Come on," Liam says, most of the people walking away for I cry into his shoulder. I need this.
Our embrace goes on for minutes, feeling as if hours pass together. I don't understand how this is possible.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, my arms continuing to stay tightly wrapped around him.
"Don't be, please."
I take my arms back and cradle his bearded cheeks in my hands, his arms tight around my waist.
"You're..." he sighs, seeing his ring on my finger. I shake my head and he watches me closely.
"It's yours. I didn't want anyone and Niall told me to do this," I whisper, still confused as to what is going on.
"So you aren't with him? I saw you with him," he says, my head shaking.
"The boys tried to help but I missed you. And I don't know how the hell you are even here right now," I say, his lips parting into his beautiful smile.
"I'll explain everything. Please," he says, my head nodding.
"Come with me," I say, his head nodding. I grab his hand and lead him back to the apartment, my hand unlocking the door.
"I lost my keys," he tells me, my hand holding his tightly.
"We'll get you a new one," I smile, sitting at the kitchen table. He sits across from me and I hand him a glass of water, his lips thanking me.
"Okay, um, where should I start?" he asks, my hand taking the ring off my finger.
"Stallone and what happened after that," I say, his head nodding.
"So, after Liam took you, you heard the gunshot right?" he asks, my head nodding. I hate that memory.
"It went into my shoulder and then Stallone collapsed from the fumes. I struggled to put pressure on my shoulder and I shot the son of a bitch like twenty times, then ran into the capsule as quick as I could. It survived the bomb and I struggled to see. I woke up in Ed's room and he told me I had to leave because of your state. It pained me to think that you were upset and that you thought I was gone, so I hid in my old mate's house. I grew a beard and wore dark clothes so you wouldn't recognize me. I watched over you all the time because I needed to make sure you were okay."
His hand runs through his long hair and he shrugs off his coat and hoodie, lifting his shirt to show me his recent scar.
"The stitches just came out. It was so deep and the doctor had no idea how I lived."
It looks horrific. Absolutely painful to look at.
He sits back down. "While I was getting the stitches out, you were wheeled in on a stretcher. I was scared shitless and I asked the nurse to see you. I saw your father. I faked an American accent and made my voice higher to ask if I could see you. He said you've barely talked in a month so I walked back to see you. It broke my heart to see you that way. You had a heart attack and I just sat there for a good hour, looking at you and holding your hand. I wished I could see your smile."
My lips part and I recall my father saying he saw someone familiar. Then Zayn and Niall were freaking out. Everything makes sense.
"You talked to me and I was so afraid you'd recognize me. I didn't want you to see me yet. I wasn't prepared," he says, my lips smiling.
"Oh, yeah, Mr. No Name," I smile, his lips releasing a laugh.
"I was so nervous. You have a dog," he says, my head nodding.
"My father got him to protect me. He likes you. He hates men but you he likes."
He nods and runs his fingers against his beard, my eyes glancing at his pink lips.
"I can't get over how different you look," I say, his eyes meeting mine.
"I can't believe you didn't recognize me."
"You were practically hidden. The accent you portrayed did you justice since you were hiding."
He smiles and I stand up, his legs moving up as well. I nearly collide into him and he looks down at me, my eyes looking away from him.
"Leslie, I want to come with you," he says, my hand taken in his.
"Okay," I whisper, his green eyes looking down at me.
"I'm not ready to talk to them. I just want it to be us. Like how it used to be," he says, my heart beating quickly.
"Then be with me," I whisper, his eyes meeting mine as he stares at me. He smiles and we walk out of the apartment hand in hand. I lead him down the street and he surprisingly still smells like his musky cologne, his long hair shoved into a beanie again. We enter the hall and Harry stays behind me, multiple stares on him. But he ignores them, my head turning to look up at Harry.
"I'll be right back," I say, his head nodding and his hand falling from mine.
"Liam, listen to me. I know everyone is confused and shocked, but he doesn't want attention so please don't talk to him. He's freaking nervous and worried he'll be all anyone's talking about," I say, his head nodding.
"I understand. We're all a little overwhelmed," he says, my head nodding. I thank him and walk back to Harry, grabbing his hand again.
"Are you okay?" I ask, his head nodding. He's nervous, that I know.
"Do you want something to eat? They have steak and other stuff," I smile, his lips parting as he responds yes.
We walk over to the food and he forms all the food he wants on the plate, both of sitting in the back corner.
"Are you afraid of what they'll say about you?" I ask, his eyes meeting mine.
"A little. I was mainly scared of what you would think but I think I scared the shit out of you in the church," he smiles, my lips curving.
"It took me a second then put two and two together. It was you all along and I had known, deep down, that you weren't gone. I didn't believe that story and I'm glad I didn't," I tell him, his hand shoving mashed potatoes into his mouth. He smiles and I laugh, his head rolling back.
"I'm not dressed for a wedding," he whispers, my hand setting on his thigh.
"Doesn't matter. You look good," I compliment, his eyes meeting mine.
"You have no idea how much I missed you," I tell him, his hand setting on mine. I can't eat because of how excited I am to see him.
"I missed you more."
I smile and he grabs my hand, standing up. He moves us into the back of the hall, placing his arm around my waist. I smile and place my other hand on his shoulder, his body swaying mine to the slow music playing.
"I read your journal." He looks down at me and I can't read his expression.
"And I know you told me not to read it, I did anyway and I couldn't stop. It's the only thing I read now because it made me feel like you were still with me," I tell him, his smile wide.
"Good. Because I wrote in case we were ever parted," he whispers, leaning his forehead on mine.
"How was your birthday?" he asks, my lips smiling.
"It was okay. I wish you were there."
"I saw you but I walked away before you saw me," he snickers.
"Stalker," I whisper, his head rolling back as he laughs.
I laugh with him and he smiles, rubbing his nose with mine. Closing my eyes, I lean closer to Harry, feeling him hum the song in my ear.
"Can we leave?" he whispers, my head nodding.
"I feel so out of place," he says, my hand holding onto his tightly.
"It's okay. We can go back to my place," I say, his head nodding.
He shrugs his jacket over my shoulders and I hold his hand tightly, walking towards the log cabin. He smiles when he sees the lake, my hand opening the front door.
Max runs towards me and I smile, telling him to sit. "Leslie, how was th-" my father stops, looking at Harry.
"That's him. He was in the hospital looking for you," my father says, Harry shrugging off his hoodie and beanie.
"Is that...what?" my dad says, Harry walking towards him.
"It's Harry," he says, my father wrapping his arms around him. They hug and my father excuses himself, Harry and I walking upstairs.
Max stays with my father and I open the door to my room. Harry shuts it and excuses himself to use the restroom. I nod and change out of my dress, pulling shorts up my legs the a tee over my head.
"Harry, do you need anything?" I ask, his head shaking and he grabs my hand.
"Do you really like the journal?" he asks, my head nodding.
"I usually read it before bed and as soon as I got up. It made me smile and feel like you were still here," I tell him, his eyes lighting up at my words.
"You haven't...been with anyone?" he clarifies.
"I barely left the house. I didn't want anyone, only you," I tell him, my feet stepping closer to him.
He sucks in a breath as I look up at him, my eyes admiring how different he looks. He's looks amazing and I don't think he realizes how amazing he is. He's just nervous.
"What's wrong?" I ask, his chest moving quickly.
He doesn't say anything but his actions do.
His head leans down and he presses his lips to mine, my eyes closing. His beard and mustache are felt against my skin, his arms wrapping around my back.
"I'm sorry," he says, my head shaking.
"I wanted to, too. Harry, don't be afraid with me. I love you," I remind him, his lips pressing to mine. My hands place on his cheeks, feeling the long hairs on his usually soft cheeks.
"I love you," he mumbles, my heart nearly shooting out of my chest. He's finally back.
I retract from the kiss and wrap my arms around him tightly, his arms lifting me a few inches off the ground. There is a way of comfort that makes me feel so at home with him. I'll be there every day until he eases himself back into things.
"When was the last time you actually slept?" I ask, his lips pressing a small kiss to my cheek.
"A month ago."
I nod and he sets me down, my hands handing him his hoodie. He shrugs it on and kicks his shoes off, turning to look at me again.
"Come here," he says, my arms wrapping tightly around his neck again. I love this feeling. His hugs are my favorite.
"Are you staying with me?" I ask, his head nodding. I move my fingers to remove the beanie from his head, his long hair falling from the hat. I toss it onto my chair and Harry lifts me, my head rolling back as I laugh. He smiles wide and lays me down, moving the sheets over his body as well. We lay beside each other and my fingers come to his cheek as he wraps both arms around me.
"We can stay here as long as you need to," I tell him, kissing his forehead.
"I wanted to tell you sooner but you looked increasingly well lately so I let it go. And I sure as hell am glad you hugged me and didn't run," he smiles, my hand holding his cheek as I peck his lips.
"I don't care. As long as you are here and you stay," I say, his lips pressing to mine again.
"I'm not going anywhere. Ever again," he mumbles, my arms against my chest as he leans his head down, brushing his nose with mine.
"You saw me in the hospital?" I ask after minutes of silence.
"I did. I didn't know how to act because I felt like because I was gone you...had it," he says, my eyes meeting his.
"I read a certain part in your journal that made me overthink and it clenched my heart. But it wasn't you in all actuality," I respond, his eyes falling to my fingers. I'm brushing my fingers against the discolored marks on his hoodie, his nose releasing soft sighs.
"But it was something I wrote?" he asks, my head hesitantly nodding.
"It wasn't because of you Harry. It happens naturally and it just so happened to be last week," I say, his lips frowning.
"Stitches? Do you have stitches still?" he asks, my head nodding.
"You can see them," I say, his head nodding.
I raise my shirt and roll onto my back, the stitches on the side of my left breast. They don't hurt but I have to keep gauze taped to the lining of my bra.
"Just one stint was place in this time unlike four last time."
He bites his bottom lip and his index runs over the few stitches, his lips kissing the top of my breast and over the stitches.
"Do you have medication?" I nod and he moves my shirt down, wrapping me in his arms again.
"Just tell me if you need anything. I'll do it for you," he says, my eyes closing as he kisses the corner of my nose.
"I will."
I wake the next morning to find the bed completely empty but the talking downstairs tells me otherwise. My arms shrug on a pullover and I walk downstairs, Harry sitting at the kitchen table with my father. Harry stands to grab my hand and I walk to the table with him, my father sipping his coffee.
"Did Max go out?" I ask, my father's head nodding.
"He's sleeping on my bed. Damn rascal takes everything from me," he sighs, my lips in a smile.
"Do you want to go to the pier?" I ask Harry, his head nodding. We excuse ourselves and I take Harry out the back door, walking with him to the end of the wooden pier. I sit and put my feet in the water, Harry rolling his jeans up.
"You look beautiful," he smiles, my lips curving.
"You look like a lumberjack," I tell him, his laugh ringing through my ears.
"I was going to ask if you wanted me to shave or not. I feel like this shit traps all the food and other shit," he says, running his hand across his beard.
"Do what you like. I love you, no matter what," I say, his fingers playing with mine.
"I read a book about palm reading while I was at my friend's house. His ex left all her psychic stuff," he says, my hand opening.
"You read it," I whisper, his thumb running against my palm.
"You'll have a long and successful life. You will be married once and you will seek the truth of all things. You have a strong heart and a good mindset with the willpower of strength," he says, my lips smiling.
"Does it say if I'll have children?" I ask, his head shaking.
"I wish it did, beautiful."
My head nods. "I did it on myself and mine was much like yours. Except I don't seek the truth. I have determination to find the good of everything."
I smile and kiss his cheek, his hand engulfing mine again. "Do you think I could shower?" he asks, my lips releasing a laugh.
"Of course baby."
............
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