My mother had just made tea when the doorbell suddenly rang.
I furrowed my eyebrows but stood up anyway. "I'll get it" I said, already making my way out of the kitchen and into the hallway. I walked towards the front door and opened it, a sudden blush spreading through my cheeks when I took in Harry's figure. "Harry?" I said confusedly, not understanding what he was doing at my house. "What are you doing here?"
He shrugged, taking one of his hands out of his pockets to pass it through his dark hair. "I needed to get away for a while" he simply replied. "I can go if it's a problem."
"Not at all" I said quickly, taking his hand and pulling him in, frowning when I realised how cold it was. "Harry, you're freezing."
"I walked here" he replied, a pinkness colouring his cheeks in the second he stepped inside, taking off his coat and hanging it next to the door.
"Oh darling, you walked? But it's really cold today!" A voice said behind me, and I turned around quickly, noticing that my mum was standing in the hallway, probably drawn in by her curiosity. "I just made tea, do you want a cup? It should warm you right back up."
Harry gave her a little nod. "Thank you" he said faintly, as we followed her into the kitchen.
Before I knew it, I was sitting at a table with my parents and Harry, the potential destructiveness of the mix concerning me to no end.
I wrapped my fingers around the warm cup of tea in front of me, pretending to blow the steam coming from it away as I nonchalantly glanced around.
My dad was sitting on the chair in front of me, shamelessly staring at the boy sitting next to me while slowly tapping on the wooden table, ignoring the cup that was next to his hand. Not a word was being spoken, and an awkward silence had filled the room, in which everybody seemed to wait for someone else to say the first word. Sensing his stare on him, Harry looked up, returning his gaze without fear, seeming more curious about why he was glancing at him than squirmy under his scrutiny.
They stared at each other in silence for what felt like minutes under my mother's worried gaze, before my dad suddenly spoke, immediately shattering the tension that had been created.
"I like you" he said, looking away, and Harry gave him a slight nod, quietly lifting his cup and taking a sip from it indifferently.
I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding and looked down at the table, being immensely glad that nothing too embarrassing - and nothing that would've ended up with Harry running away too - had happened.
"So..." my mother said, letting her voice drift away and putting the cup that she'd been sipping from for the past five minutes down. "Finally we know your name."
I widened my eyes at her words, quickly standing up, the chair loudly scratching against the floor, making everyone look at me. "Okay, let's go" I said, quickly taking Harry by his wrist and pulling him out of the room with me, not wanting the conversation to get any more awkward.
Almost by default, we walked into my room, and Harry took his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and put it on my nightstand before sitting at the end of the bed.
I sat next to him, glancing down at the floor, thinking of something to say that would've broken the silence. I furrowed my eyebrows when I suddenly heard a buzzing sound coming from my nightstand. I turned my head, discovering that Harry's black phone was vibrating with an incoming call. "Someone is calling you" I simply said, turning around again, just in time to see him shrug.
"It's only Niall" he replied, carelessness evident in his voice, glancing away from me. "He's been trying to talk to me since yesterday."
I nodded at his words, instantly deciding not to push it. I knew he was still pissed about what had happened on New Year's Eve - honestly, who wouldn't have been? What Niall had done was definitely out of line, and while the fact that he was drunk prove that he didn't really mean his actions, it still didn't make them okay.
Harry side-glanced at me, seeming to be quietly waiting for me to say something, a slight frown taking over his face when he realised it wasn't going to happen. "Aren't you going to tell me that maybe I should talk to him?" He asked, the faintest hint of confusion in his voice.
I shrugged, not really understanding the meaning behind his actions. Was he actually surprised that I'd given him an unexpected answer, or had he wanted me to convince him to talk to Niall, and had been left disappointed? "Well" I said, crossing my legs over the white duvet that was covering my bed, thinking of what the best reply I could've given him was. Possibly one that would've solved both issues at once. "He was drunk, so I don't think he intended to do what he did. But I understand why you'd rather not talk to him."
He nodded slightly, giving the buzzing phone a little glance, but deciding not to answer the call. We stayed in silence for a while, and I turned my head to stare at the phone until it stopped vibrating. I looked at Harry when it happened, he was glancing at the white couch on the other side of the room, his eyebrows furrowed, seeming to be lost in his thoughts.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked him quietly, and he glanced at me quickly, something I couldn't put my finger on flashing through his green irises, too fast for me to understand its meaning.
He frowned at the question, pursing his lips and looking down, passing his thumb over the fabric of his jeans, seeming to be debating whether to reply to my question or not. "I just feel lost, sometimes" he said quietly in the end, not lifting his gaze as he spoke. "With everything that's happening... it simply doesn't make sense."
"That's true" I said, glancing away. A lot of things that were happening didn't make any sense, if I had to be honest. Everything seemed so random, but at the same time it felt like we were simply missing a single piece of a puzzle, the one that could've tied it all together. For some reason, everything tied back to Harry. The drugs, the arguments, even the texts I was receiving - they all went back to him. I wonder who, out there, was having fun with playing us all like pawns while hiding in the shadows. The more I thought about it, the more messed up it became.
Harry shook his head, straightening his back and glancing at me, blinking a few times to get rid of the hint of insecurity hidden in his eyes. He took a deep breath, his eyebrows furrowed, quickly looking away from me when he realised he couldn't have discarded his uneasiness as easily as he'd thought. Every time he knew his eyes held some kind of emotion in them he looked away, as if, for some reason, he was scared of not appearing as impassible as always for the shard of a second. I wondered why he'd closed himself off to that point. Why was he so scared of showing other people how he truly felt?
"Fear" I said all of sudden, and he looked at me, a confused look in his face.
"What?" He asked, a hint of hesitance in his voice, not understanding what I was referring to.
I shrugged, wanting to make my next words appear less important than they truly were, knowing that I was walking on eggshells, and that just using the wrong tone would've been enough to make him run away. "Some months ago you asked me what your eyes say" I said carefully, attentively glancing at him, trying to read his reaction to my words. "You're scared. That's what they say. What are you afraid of?" I asked him slowly, feeling a hint of nervousness wash over me.
My little speech was followed by a deep silence, that seemed to last for almost a minute, in which Harry looked down at the floor of my bedroom. "Of living my life as if they were never here" he said in the end, surprising and confusing me at the same time. When I'd thought about it, I hadn't even addressed the possibility of him giving a reply of that kind. "I'm scared of forgetting."
"Then don't" I said gently, not truly understanding the weight of what he was talking about as I replied.
Harry shook his head. "I want to" he replied, still not daring to meet my gaze. "I need to."
I furrowed my eyebrows. Why would he try to push himself to do something he didn't want to do? It didn't make any sense to me. His words seemed to be hiding an unhealthy relationship with the death of his parents, and I wasn't sure I knew how to handle a similar situation. "Why?" I asked him gently.
He looked back at the white couch in front of him, shrugging again. "I want to forget them because it hurts to remember them."
I opened my mouth to say something, but I roughly interrupted by the buzzing sound of Harry's phone again. He straightened himself up quickly, seeming to snap out of the conversation we were having quickly, standing up and taking it from my nightstand before quickly making his way towards the door of my bedroom. "I'll take the call" he simply said before disappearing out of it, seeming to be more eager to have a reason to get away than to talk to Niall.
I nodded, not replying, knowing that he wouldn't have heard me anyway, leaning back against the pillow and letting out a hopeless sigh, in a way being glad that the conversation had ended. Harry has seemed uneasy, and I didn't think I could've found a way to come back from that topic on my own.
All of sudden I heard my own phone ring from where I'd left it on the bed, and I frowned, realising that it was signalling a new message. I sat up and hesitantly picked it up, expecting to see the by then familiar mysterious phone number, a sigh of relief leaving my lips when I read Ella's name on the screen. I clicked on the message and unlocked the phone, raising my eyebrows at the text in front of me.
From Ella: what's up?
It wasn't odd for Ella to text me, considering that she was trying to fix our friendship, but it was still weird to me, considering that she'd been so detached from me for so many months before wanting to be my friend again. I shrugged, deciding to reply right away to get it out of the way, supposing that it wouldn't have hurt to try to keep the only friend I had - aside from Harry, of course.
To Ella: I'm with Harry
I typed the text and sent it quickly, knowing that it would've been better to let her know not to risk her deciding to come over. I locked the phone and put it down on the duvet, turning around to glance at my half-closed door, wondering if Harry would've come back anytime soon. I hoped he wouldn't have accidentally stumbled upon one of my parents - that would've been awkward, and who even knew the kind of things they would've told him if I wasn't around.
My phone rang again and I glanced down, surprised that Ella had replied that quickly. It'd never really happened before. I took the phone and I turned off the volume, finding the sound it made each time incredibly annoying. I unlocked it again, reading the text she'd sent.
From Ella: that's nice, you guys are cute. saw you at the party
I smiled slightly at the text. It was nice not to have her say something negative about Harry and I for once. It felt refreshing. I furrowed my eyebrows, realising that I didn't know what to reply to a similar text. Was I supposed to thank her? That seemed a bit weird, if I had to be honest. But I also couldn't ignore her words, because that would've been rude. I nervously tapped my finger on the screen as I tried to decide, inadvertently exiting the chat, a frown on my face as soon as I read the chat right under Ella's.
The unknown number. I entered that chat again, reading the text they'd sent, starting to feel a bit more concerned when I saw them all at once. I wondered what I should've done. Whoever it was, it was clear that they were playing a stupid game on me, so it would've been ridiculous to let Harry know about that. Besides, he already had so many things to worry about, so I didn't want to put my own problems on him as well. That would've certainly been unnecessary, considering everything. I didn't need him to worry about who was texting me, when he should've been concentrating on finding out who was trying to frame him.
But then again, I didn't really know what to do. I'd never been in a similar situation before - of course, and it was hard to take a conscious decision without having anyone to give me some kind of advice. I bit my lower lip, glancing up from the phone as I tried to take a quick decision.
It wouldn't have hurt to ask Ella about it, would it? She said she wanted to make an effort in trying to be friends again anyway, so maybe it wouldn't have been a bad idea? I didn't particularly trust her, but then again, I didn't really trust anyone but my family and Harry, so maybe I should've probably loosened up a little bit. I was pretty sure she hadn't sent those texts anyway, so it certainly wouldn't have hurt to ask for someone else's opinion on such a tricky issue.
I nodded to myself, deciding that it was the best option in that moment. It would've shown Ella that I was trying to make an effort as well, and it would've helped me decide what to do better, so it truly was a win-win situation. I quickly exited the chat with the mysterious number and went back in the one with Ella, quickly typing a reply to her text, hoping that Harry wouldn't have decided to come back inside my room in that moment.
To Ella: I don't know. I keep getting weird texts?
I sent it, putting the phone back on the duvet but keeping it unlocked, not-so-patiently waiting for the reply, which came, once again, surprisingly quickly. I smiled to myself as soon as I saw the new text appear, and I lifted the phone up, reading fast, knowing that I probably didn't have much time.
From Ella: what do you mean?
I stared at the text for a few seconds, trying to decide as quickly as possible what to tell her. Did I really trust her enough to let her know the content of the texts I was being sent? The truth was, I certainly didn't, but at the same time I knew she couldn't have been of any help if I hadn't at least told her something.
I pursed my lips, typing down a reply, almost jumping up when I heard the sound of Harry's voice out of my room. He seemed to be still on the phone, his voice too low for me to make out any word, but it was clear that the conversation was coming to an end, considering he'd already started walking towards the door. I shook my head, going back to typing, knowing perfectly that I had even less time than I'd previously anticipated.
To Ella: Like, telling me that I shouldn't trust him and such
I sent the message without rereading it, my heart starting to beat faster in my chest as I heard Harry talking outside of my door. I kept the phone in my hand as I waited for the reply, letting out a long breath when it came.
From Ella: that's weird. you should tell him about that
I stared at the text for a few seconds. She did have a point of course, but then again, she didn't really know all I did about the situation, and I would've never told her anything about what was happening with Harry, considering that it wasn't her business at all. I sighed, realising that she couldn't have been as helpful as I hoped she would've been, typing a reply, quickly lying down on my side - the back of my phone pointing towards the door - when I heard Harry walk back into the room.
To Ella: I don't know
I sent the text and locked the phone, putting it on the nightstand, where it was soon joined by Harry's black one.
Harry walked to the end of the bed, easily sliding between me and the wall from there and lying down on my bed next to me, a defeated sigh leaving his mouth.
I turned around, giving him a little glance. "How did it go?" I asked him gently, and he let out another sigh at my words, making me understand that it hadn't gone as well as I'd hoped.
"He says he's sorry" he said, opening an eye to glance at me.
I nodded, reaching out to push a dark curl out of his face. "He should be, I don't like when people hurt my muse" I said, widening my eyes as soon as I realised what I'd said. "I mean..." I added quickly, trying to cover it up, but he gave me a little smile, just enough to make his dimple show.
"It's fine" he said, effectively shutting me up. "It isn't even bruising much, anyway. Even when I was fourteen I punched harder than Niall."
I chuckled, my embarrassment fading away at his words, and he let out a little laugh as well. I pushed another curl back, and he closed his eyes, not moving away. I put my hand between us again, accidentally grazing his and realising that it was a bit cold.
"You're still freezing. Why did you walk here?" I asked him, not understanding why he'd do something like that. It was the start of January, and his house was an hour away from mine by foot. It wasn't like Harry to make such a confusing choice.
He opened his eyes as he noticed the change of topic, giving me a little shrug. "My car got taken away as punishment for what happened at the party" he explained quickly, making a frown appear on my face. Harry was being punished for the mess Niall had created? That was just messed up. It wasn't Harry's fault if Niall had decided to let everyone trash their house, it was unfair for him to be punished. How could Niall's parents be so blind? "It's fine" Harry added quickly, noticing the storm of thoughts that was going on in my mind. "I needed to clear my head anyway."
I gave him a little nod just not to upset him, even though I knew I couldn't just ignore something like that. "Maybe you shouldn't walk back home later" I suggested lightly, trying to change topic, knowing that it would've just made Harry want to leave to keep talking about that. "It's really cold outside, and I don't want you to get sick."
"It isn't a big deal" he replied, something in his tone making me understand that he firmly believed it wouldn't have been a big deal if he got sick after walking for an hour in the freezing cold of the night because the people that were supposed to be parenting him took his car away as punishment for something he hadn't even done. I wondered if they would've even taken care of him if it had happened, or if they would've forced him to go on with his life as normal despite being sick.
"I'd prefer you didn't anyway" I said, staring at the shadow of his eyelashes on his cheekbones when he looked down.
He glanced back up at my words, a sharp gaze held in his green irises. "Why?" He asked, seeming to be trying to find out my answer even before I gave it to him.
"Because I care about you" I said, not thinking much of it, realising how true it was as I said it. I really did care about him. It was obvious, and I knew he knew it as well. "I like you, a lot" I added, noticing the confused glance he'd given me.
For a couple of seconds, nothing happened.
Then, he stood up quickly, walking fast to the door, grabbing his phone as he passed in front of the nightstand. "I need to go" he said, a hurriedness in his voice I couldn't understand, before disappearing out of the door.
"What?" I said confusedly, standing up quickly when I realised that he truly had every intention of leaving. "Harry, wait!" I said out loud, rushing out of my room and down the stairs, reaching the ground floor just in time to see the front door get shut. Not caring about the fact that I was only wearing a pair of socks, I sprinted down the hallway and opened the door, getting out of the house as well. "Harry!" I called him, glancing around just to find out that he'd already disappeared.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! x
Miki