Turns out I didn't even need sleep.
Well technically that wasn't true but I wasn't getting any sleep anyway so what was the point in trying?
I pushed myself up against the wall, the spare bedroom dark and I sighed. I'd only been here two days, and apart from Sunday night when I'd managed to cry myself to sleep only to wake up several hours later, I'd probably had in total, twelve hours of sleep.
I wasn't doing too well.
It was weird being here in Harry's flat too. Last night I'd laid awake for hours but I couldn't hear a thing, I supposed it was just like my own house. Deadly quiet. In the end I'd given up on sleep and just laid there until I heard Harry get up.
We hadn't really done anything yesterday, just had to go out to get some food because the only two things, a pint milk and a slab of pork, in Harry's fridge were mouldy.
Also two things I didn't even eat.
But apart from that we hadn't done anything, and today had been much of the same. We hadn't left the flat, Harry played video games for most of the day and I did some of my uni work that I'd grabbed in my rush.
I'd left my laptop at home though so I couldn't do the majority of it but somehow that wasn't exactly a problem I was too keen on solving.
I sighed and rubbed my face and pushed myself out of bed. Laying here awake wasn't any help so I supposed I could go and get a drink maybe that would make me sleepy.
I slowly made my way down the small hallway, the flat was completely dark even though Harry owned no curtains but as I looked out the front window I saw the sky was cloudy, no moon in sight.
I did my best not to fall over anything which wasn't too hard considering there wasn't that much furniture in here and I couldn't help but wonder how long Harry had lived here? Don't people just accumulate stuff?
I know I did.
I peered through the black as my eyes started to adjust to it and I flicked through some of the albums on Harry's bookcase, The Rolling Stones, Beatles, E.L.O, Kodaline, Fleetwood Mac, several Led Zeppelin albums including the one I bought him and I smiled, impressed.
Harry had really good taste.
I looked up just as the flat creaked and I stepped away from the albums, my eyes following along the wall of the room. There wasn't a single photo in here.
I knew I shouldn't be prying but I couldn't help it, my mind was running a mile a minute.
Did Harry not have family? Or was he just not a sentimental person?
I don't know why it shocked me, the entire time I'd known him he never showed a particular interest in anything like that. He only told me he had a sister because I pressed him to.
I wondered what Gemma was like, she was a female version of Harry? Or was she the complete opposite? Full of smiles and laughter and bright colours. Not that Harry didn't laugh or smile, he just didn't do it a lot.
I knew I'd probably never find out so I pushed the thought out of my brain and instead headed into the kitchen, my eyes finding the sink full of dirty crockery and I clicked my tongue.
Harry didn't have a dishwasher so everything had to be hand washed which wasn't a problem, but we'd ordered Chinese for dinner which meant, apart from Harry's fork, I used the chopsticks, we didn't use any dishes.
And I had just assumed that he'd been washing everything else up as he used it but I was wrong. I frowned as I pulled the majority out so I could fill the sink up with hot water. My hand splashing through it as I checked the temperature.
I bent down to rifle through the cupboard but I couldn't find any dish soap and I pursed my lips. Did he not own any? I stood on my tiptoes to look in the cupboard above but that was only filled with dishes and mugs.
I let out an irritated breath through my nose and checked through the rest of the cupboards, finding nothing but empty space and a bong.
Who knew.
I squirted a healthy amount of hand soap into the sink and started to wash everything we'd used the past two days. Harry drank a lot of coffee I found out but he for some reason always used the same mug over and over again.
Consequently his mug had several thick and dried coffee stains around the rim. It was a hygiene disaster.
"Flower..."
The word was practically whispered and I looked up to find a rather sleepy looking Harry standing at the end of the hallway, his chest bare and I found myself staring at all the black markings littering his body.
"What the fuck are yeh' doing? It's two am." Harry asked quietly as he scratched his chest and I swallowed.
"The dishes." I stated stupidly, making Harry blink slowly at me, rather like a cat.
"I know you're not sleeping properly again."
I returned my eyes to the sink of dirty water and swallowed thickly. I didn't think he'd notice or care.
"C'mon." Harry mumbled and I looked up to find him heading towards me with his hand outstretched.
I dumbly grabbed hold of it watching as a sleepy smile stretched onto his face and I followed his lead, bypassing my current bedroom and into Harry's own and my eyes widened.
If I thought his room at my house was a mess...it was nothing compared to this.
Neither of us said a word as Harry led me to his bed and gestured for me to take the clearly not slept in side and I chewed my lip as I slid in. I didn't know how he thought this was going to make me sleep.
My heart was threatening to beat out of my chest just thinking about holding his hand again.
I laid there for a while, my eyes staring up at the ceiling listening to Harry's breathing. It was pretty even but he hadn't let out a single snore yet but I assumed he was asleep.
"Wha's' wrong?"
I blinked as I looked sideways to find Harry laying on his back, head turned to face me. The whites of his eyes brightening the room once more and I blinked away from him.
"Nothing, to be honest." I shrugged the best I could in my position and I swore I heard his eye roll.
"Sometimes you're a terrible liar." Harry muttered and I half smiled but I wasn't technically lying.
I was over it, I was over Oliver and the messes I always got myself into and now nothing was wrong, I was just empty inside. Everything was eh to me at the moment and I knew I just had to ride it out.
"Can I ask yeh' something?" Harry broke the silence a little while later and I almost jumped, I'd thought he was asleep again.
"Sure."
"When did you and Oliver date?"
I stared up at the ceiling as Harry's question was left hanging, my expression shifting into a glare as I struggled to answer him even though it was a simple answer.
Why did he even care?
"We didn't." I finally answered Harry, my own words left hanging.
"He told me he took your virginity, I just assumed, I mean.." Harry trailed off and I became acutely aware of our arms laying side by side, his skin pressed against mine.
"Yeah, he did."
I looked over at Harry to find him still looking at me and I met his gaze, I wasn't sure if I liked not being able to see the rest of his face and his facial expressions or not.
"It's complicated. I was fourteen and I regret it, every single day of my life."
"Wait, what?" Harry snapped and I swallowed as the bed wobbled and I saw Harry push himself up on one arm so he was looking down at me properly.
"Yup." I popped the p before I sighed, aware of my chest sinking inwards.
"It was at my house, I was fourteen. Freshly fourteen in fact and I mean like two weeks after my birthday. He's Max's best friend so they were always together.
"And I don't really remember much of it but at the same time, I remember everything. I remember being kinda weirded out by him but I just brushed it off as him being my older brothers friend, but he'd always sneak me alcohol and we'd make fun of Max together secretly.
"I guess I liked the attention, and yeah I guess eventually one thing just led to another."
"What the fuck?"
Harry sounded horrified and I immediately regretted telling him, as if I needed to add fuel to the fire of Harry not liking me.
"How old was he?" Harry asked quietly after he'd taken several deep breaths and I attempted the maths in my head.
"Max is five years older than me, and Oliver is a year older than him so twenty."
"You have a paedophile living in your house."
"I wouldn't go that far." I half heartedly attempted a defence.
"I would!" Harry protested, his hand falling on my arm and I was pulled so I was twisted to face him. "Do your parents know?"
I shrugged, "Definitely don't think my Father does. If he does he's never said anything and I doubt he really cares either way. Mum knew, she um actually kicked Oliver out of the house when she found out. Threw a vase at him too and screamed that if he ever stepped foot in the house or near me again she'd castrate him. It was amazing."
"She sounds smart."
"She is. Was. Smartest person I ever knew." I muttered aware of tears growing in my eyes. I really wish Harry hadn't brought this up.
"Max knows. I think he has this weird idea that we're secretly in love and going to get married."
"Your brother sounds like a twat."
"He is, sometimes." I laughed a little bit but even to my tired ears I knew it sounded forced. "Can we talk about something else?"
"Like what?"
"Like, what are you doing for Christmas? I think Max will be coming home, will you be going home?" I asked curiously.
"Probably not." I felt the bed shift as Harry shrugged and I was still aware of his hand on my arm, all it would take is him to shift and we'd be holding hands. In my dreams. "Probably go to Niall's, maybe Lou's. Probably not though."
"Niall's? You'd go all the way to Ireland for Christmas?"
"Yeh', his parents weirdly love me." Harry snorted and I smiled as sank further down in the quilt. "But I mean, who doesn't?"
"Why not Louis'? Where's he from?" I asked curiously ignoring his ego, this was the second time Harry had ever willingly shared information with me about himself, maybe he was feeling guilty.
"Doncaster. Eh, I used to go there every Christmas but he has his girlfriend now and eh."
"Eh?" I repeated, pushing for a little more of an explanation.
"Not her biggest fan."
"Why not?"
Harry shrugged again, "She's not really my type of person."
I opened my mouth to reply only to be beaten to it by Harry himself again,
"She's a bit like you actually."
Ouch.
I took a few minutes but I forced myself not to react enough so I could speak normally without raising Harry's suspicion.
"Am I not your type of person?" I asked quietly. That shit hurt.
"More than you know, Flower."
I bit my lip harshly as I stared at the ceiling, I would never understand Harry and how good he was at lifting me up and dropping me all in the same breath. It was like constantly living with the human embodiment of whiplash.
"What did I do? On Friday, what did I do to annoy you?" I finally bit the bullet. I wasn't even sure I wanted to know.
It was quiet for a while and I looked over to find Harry's eyes still open looking at me and unless he could sleep with his eyes open I was pretty sure he was still awake.
"Nothing." Harry finally said.
"Are you sure?" I pressed making Harry nod.
"You know, I didn't know Ollie was gay." Harry said randomly and I snorted, turning to look at him in disbelief.
"How could you not know?" I laughed.
"Dunno, just kinda assumed you two were hooking up." Harry shrugged and I crinkled my nose before a yawn broke out of my mouth. "You should sleep."
"I'm not sleepy, it's just dark." I protested.
"You're cute." Harry laughed and I sighed.
As much as I craved his approval and Harry liking me too I didn't think I could do this. It really did hurt whenever he was short with me or pretended like I didn't exist and to top it off he never gave me a reason. It was exhausting.
"Can I ask you something? S'about Oliver, you can say no I don't wanna upset you."
"Go for it." I mumbled, aware that my eyes were drooping and I buried my head into the pillow the best I could at the angle I was laying.
"He said he took both your virginities...what does that mean?"
My eyes shot open as Harry spoke and I almost laughed at how innocent he sounded. And yet he was the one calling me a virgin two weeks ago. I was surprised he didn't know and wasn't rolling in amusement about it.
"Oliver's an arse man."
Silence as heavy as the darkness covered the two of us and I laid there with my heart slowing down, although it hurt and I didn't enjoy talking about it; telling Harry about it made it hurt a bit less.
He probably wouldn't want anything to do with me now but at least there weren't any secrets.
I didn't know what it was but just like the night I slept with Harry at my house, I found my eyes growing heavier by the second and I knew I was going to be able to fall asleep and stay asleep now.
I rolled over so I was facing the wall, knowing that Harry was definitely asleep this time because his breathing was so quiet and shallow and I closed my eyes. My brain growing quieter by the second and my own breathing evened out.
The words were so quiet I didn't think I'd heard them, just imagined them but I knew I couldn't make up Harry's voice, not even with how much I replayed it in my mind. His voice was barely above a whisper and I felt my body slow right down once he'd spoken.
"I won't let him touch you again Flower, I promise."
just like to warn everyone to enjoy this nice poppy n harry moment bc shit is about to start to go DOWN x