Those words were left hanging in the air. Right between their bodies and the little space that kept them distant. Amelia felt those words straight to her groin, but her heart felt a different pull. Harry's eyes were no longer the tropical storm green she was so very much fond of, but had yes turned into a shallow color surrounded by shades of dark greys. For a second, the ginger felt aroused and yet, ever so very sad. How could eyes so beautiful look so old?
How much damage had it took to break the boy who stood so confidently right in front of her? And who, in their right mind, would do something so terrible to someone? To be the reason and cause of someone losing the brightness of their eyes. A curse should fall upon them. The eyes are indeed the mirror of the soul, the brighter the color, the younger the soul. Harry's was green, yet Amelia saw him as red. And she never once, felt such distress once she took notice of it.
''Your eyes.'' Her voice was soft, not meaning to alarm him nor make him nervous. Disposing of her camera by her side, she looked at him, not minding their proximity, hoping it would be of some comfort to the curly boy.
He looked confused, the grin leaving his face as he now gazed her, looking concerned.
''What about them?''
''They're full of scars.''
Her reply was like a stab in Harry's heart. It clenched so tightly that it physically hurt him, feeling choked by his own body as he struggled to form a coherent sentence. Why would she say that? Now, of all times. When their bodies should be the ones connecting and not their feelings, much less their hearts. Harry felt like a misfit, completely out of place but, most of all, he felt threatened. It was as if someone was trying to cut him open and find out his secrets.
He remained quiet, not knowing what to say. He felt like simply getting up so that he could leave, but his heart forbid him to do so. In his lap stood the only person who had been honest with him, and with whom he had had a proper conversation with. It might not have been a long one, but it mattered and it changed something in him. He wouldn't leave, because he was afraid that would shatter the beautiful person she was.
''I know that it is probably complicated.'' She answered for him, her voice as soft and tender, as if she were caressing him and lulling him to sleep. ''We never have the courage to say how scarred we are. How many regrets we have, or how much we've been through. It's always hard to recall those times, because in a way, we moved on. As we should. To strive forward without looking back, but feeling like... there's an empty space somewhere along the way.'' Her words seemed to draw flowers over his skin. The dark clouds covering his mind and the storm raging inside it. Her words were so powerful, that they stopped the rain. ''If you feel comfortable, and if you want to, we could get a glass of wine in the living room and simply enjoy each other's company. No more work.''
Her offer was tempting. Harry found himself completely lost in her words and so amazed at how her mind worked, she looked as if she was so fragile that one simple touch would shatter her, yet she was so much more. Her soul seemed to be an armor that secured everything which consisted of her, protecting her from the cruel world outside. However, by the way she spoke, many regrets filled up the cracks in her personality.
''I don't get...why anyone would want to get to know me.'' Harry tried, with baby steps, to explain why he didn't understand her. Why would she want to know him? But more importantly, why does he feel like he would let her? He couldn't. She would leave if she saw how hollow he is, how every part of him is a lie and the tremendous loneliness that lives in his body.
Standing up from his lap, she smiled. ''Everybody deserves a chance, don't you think?'' Walking over to the desk, she took hold of his shirt before handing it back to him.
He didn't feel like he deserved a chance at all, he felt alone in a battlefield and all of him had died during the war. Everything he lost, every part of him gone, yet he still remained. The broken shell of his former self.
''Normally, that isn't what it feels like.'' He hummed, putting his shirt back on, somehow feeling less vulnerable now that another piece of clothing was hiding him from view.
''I don't think 'normal' can apply to us, Harry.'' She looked at the curly boy over her shoulder, opening the door of the studio as she walked out, him following closely behind her. ''But I guess it's better to feel that way than not feeling anything at all.''
He couldn't say she was wrong, so once more, he kept quiet. Strangely enough, she had two sofas on her living room, and one of them happened to be turned to a big window that gave view to the busy city life, with rays of sunshine slipping between the countless buildings. He took a seat on that same one, as she came back to him holding two glasses of white wine, handing him one as she took the other for herself, taking a seat beside him.
Harry looked nervous, fidgeting with his fingers over the glass, bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. Amelia noticed in his body expression just how scared he must be, how his hands trembled slightly – only being able to be noticeable if you took a closer and more attentive look—as he held the glass, hos his lips pressed over each other as if to lock them together so he wouldn't be able to speak again.
''You don't have to talk unless you want, Harry.'' She spoke, sipping her own glass as her eyes fell over the busy streets of the city that held so many secrets, just like her. ''I won't make you, so please, don't look so uncomfortable.''
She found herself pleading, hating to see someone look so distressed, especially someone who looked like they needed just an ounce of affection.
''I just...'' He tried, his lips locking over each other again, feeling his palms start to sweat. ''..I barely know you, how do I know I can trust you?''
She didn't hesitate. ''You don't. That's the beauty of if.''
''Beauty?''
''Yes. We are all individuals, meaning we are born alone, no one knows who we are and we don't know anyone either. During your first second on Earth, you are a stranger. But you begin to learn the world and how it works, how there are others like you and you feel a need to engage in a conversation, even if you can't speak so you cry, laugh or yell, just to communicate. From the second you are born, you trust your life to someone else, to take care of you and to hold you. And as you grow older, inevitably you feel the need to be taken cared of again, you feel the need to connect with others outside of your circle. And trust isn't easy to obtain and never comes at first. You always need to take a risk and who knows, a fall, and the only thing you can do is hope that the fall is cushioned in the end. At that same moment, trust blooms.''
Somehow, he smiled. Not a smile to please, no, this smile was one of those that made the rays of sunshine feel ashamed of themselves because if they thought they shone brightly, then they were very much wrong. It was pure, gentle and honest, and he felt at ease with himself for not faking it, the raw emotion that was beginning to set in his makeshift of a heart.
She had a beautiful way to see the world, Amelia had a deep love affection for words and they seemed to love her just as much. Perhaps the world wasn't so cruel if there were more people like her out there for every person that was like him.
And so, out of the blue, he decided to take the jump.
''I met someone, once, a long time ago.'' He barely whispered, his eyes never drifting from the scenery across her window, feeling more comfortable looking elsewhere than at her, and he felt thankful that she was looking outside too, and not at him. ''It was an unrequited love from the start and I don't know why she was with me in the first place. But... I couldn't bring myself to think about such things, because I wanted her with me and not with anyone else. It felt empty and fragile, but I was happy, or something similar to that. But as time passed, things became rougher and I realized just how hollow I am on the inside.''
''Why?'' Amelia asked quietly as her heart felt a painful tug, Harry's tone being so calm and composed while his hands gripped the glass so tightly she thought it would break.
''Because we were both just trying to fill up the void in our hearts. Yet, I couldn't let go of her, because no matter how sad she made me feel she also made me so happy. I think she knew from the start just how much she would hurt me, but I don't think she really cared. She just wanted me to be as broken as her so she wouldn't feel so alone.'' He hummed, sharing part of his story to the girl with auburn curls, while sipping the wine to try and calm down the pain in his heart. ''People tend to fall in love with the wrong people because they think that is what they deserve, and I was no exception.''
Amelia took her time, watching the people hurriedly walking down the streets and following their lives in the only way they knew how. Just like Harry.
''You shouldn't be so cruel on yourself.'' She replied, keeping her gaze away from him to keep him comfortable.
Harry's eyes widened at her words, his face turning to face her. Could he really do that?
Could he be less strict with himself? He watched her, his eyebrows furrowed together as he awaited her answer. He needed the approval, and needed the permission to do so. He was so afraid that if he gave himself permission to be more than just an empty shell, then he'd lose everything he had if things went wrong. He needed it to be someone else, just like it had always been, so he could move on once the lies were over.
''Love isn't a bad thing, Harry, it never was. Yet, the way people practice and show it, gives it a bad reputation. To feel so in love with something means that it makes you happy, and if it makes you happy, you want to cherish it. But people love in different ways, for some to cherish means to destroy, for others, to ignore. Everybody loves accordingly to how they were loved, it's basic human nature to mirror it, ever since you were a baby, you did it unconsciously.'' She mumbled, turning his head to face him, and their eyes met in a supernova that threatened to explode, such longing and acceptance making both of them feel at ease. ''As you can see, there are a lot of ways to love and to be loved, you Harry, just happened to have been loved in one of the bad ways. However, that doesn't mean there aren't other ways to be loved.''
''You make it sound easy.'' Harry bit his bottom lip, watching the girl lean back into the couch with a relaxed smile on her features.
''If it was, we wouldn't be here now, would we?''
''I suppose not.'' Harry sighed with a low chuckle, somehow relieved to be taking some of that out of his chest. ''I don't think I'll ever find the right person.''
''That's because you won't.''
''Well geez, thanks for applying salt to the wound sweetheart.''
Amelia giggled, holding her glass over her knees. ''There is no right person. Every person is wrong. But, once they don't feel wrong anymore, that's when they're the one.''
I know everyone was waiting for mature content in this chapter, but even though things might work like that nowadays, it shouldn't. Remember, you don't need anyone else to feel better about yourself, other people can help, but you also need to learn how to be alright on your own. Don't try to numb the pain you feel by using other people and wake up in a different room while still feeling as hollow as you did the day before. Get to know people, learn about them, but most important of all, don't be afraid to lose yourself in others and find the real 'you'.
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Let's wait and see how Harry and Amelia's relationship will change from now on.
Stay safe and thank you for reading xx