5 Years Later
It has been five years since I left school, three years since I've stepped foot in my childhood home.
I trudged through my last couple of months of secondary school and then threw myself into college, granting myself a place at the University of Edinburgh- I never planned to go so far away but I needed it.
I needed to get away from this small little town, away from what happened, away from him...
My mother, bless her, never insisted on my return instead she just visited me in Scotland whenever the pain of missing one another became too much- she treated it as a holiday and if I'm honest I think getting away from home did her some good as well.
That's all over now, I have graduated with a degree in English and now I await at home until I can find a job and a place in the city- I can't stay here.
After the night Shay got arrested everything had changed and as much as I tried to hold myself together, it did not work. School was different and it wasn't just because I was having to take a class with the man I once loved but because Aria was involved too.
After she found out what had happened to Shay she came clean to me, how she helped her and begged me not to turn her in to the police.
It was too late, Shay had already told the police everything and one very sunny Tuesday, Aria got dragged out of class by a few officers.
The trial was long and hard, lasting until halfway through my first year at college, I wish I could say that the trial made me feel better- that Shay going away for a list of crimes that I hadn't cared to remember and Aria getting expelled and community service allowed me to feel normal again.
It didn't.
I still had the nightmares of the faceless black hood and I haven't watched Pretty Little Liars since.
When I moved away, I felt more myself, like the dark cloud looming over had finally dissipated. I actually made friends at university- went out more, even got a few boyfriends and one girlfriend, but I could never shake the feeling of being watched and sometimes if I wasn't concentrating I would even flinch when my phone went off.
I never spoke about it, only to my mom- I didn't want anyone else knowing what had happened to me, the town newspapers that reported on my during the trial were enough to ensure that I never wanted people to look at me with such pity ever again.
Some people looked at me like I should be ashamed of myself, like I was the one to blame, I tried not to let it get to me- tried to remain strong.
As I pulled into the driveway of my childhood home, I couldn't help but feel nauseated- maybe I should have stayed in Scotland, at least there I would feel safe.
I sighed, turning off the engine, sitting and staring at the house like it was going to turn into this massive monster that would eat me up whole. I sat in the car and watched as my mother opened the door, standing in the porch observing me trying to gather the strength to leave the car and walk inside.
Fifteen minutes later and I was still in the car, gripping the steering wheel like it was going to fade away if I let go.
That was when I felt a hand on mine, my mothers' hand- she had given me some time but now I needed to leave.
I needed to do this.
Once I was inside, she sat me on the sofa and made me a cup of tea, most people would relish in how familiar this is, would relax back into the nostalgia.
Not me, I'm nauseated by it.
The tea helps though, and small talk with my mother is enough to distract me from thinking about the time we had tea on this exact sofa- the last time I kissed him.
"It's so weird being back." I stated.
"I've thought about selling the house; I think it's time for a change." She replied.
"Being away from this place helped, but now I'm back, I'm constantly reminded of what happened." I muttered.
"There's this new Italian place- fancy going there tonight?" She asked, it might be easier going somewhere new than some restaurant I know all too well.
"That sounds ok." I smiled.
After we finished our tea I unloaded my belongings from the car and put them in my room, the one thing that has changed- when I returned to my room that day I had my last kiss with him, it was a complete wreck- the investigative team had turned it upside down looking for stuff- they even ripped up my walls looking for mics. They didn't find any. I couldn't bear to be in it after that- so I completely re-decorated.
It is very minimalist, almost plain looking now- I didn't feel like having much around, or anything that someone could hide a camera or mic in.
Once I had unpacked I changed from my loungewear into something more acceptable for the restaurant, I put some makeup on to cover the lack of sleep I had gotten about coming home and brushed the knots out of my hair.
The restaurant was nice- cosy with a modern feel, being in a new environment relaxed me more than I cared to admit to my mother- but I'm guessing she could tell by my heightened mood.
The wine helped too.
By the time our food came I had already finished my third glass and was asking for another, my mother looked at me like all mothers do when you have been drinking too much- and I promised her I would pay.
Besides its not like she can do anything, I'm 22 now.
The food was amazing, but that could have had something to do with the amount of alcohol in my system. After much debate we even agreed to dessert- but that could have had something to do with me not wanting to go home yet.
"You've perked up." My mother said, sipping on her own glass of white wine.
"That's because nothing bad has ever happened here." I retorted, picking up my glass of red.
"It'll get better," she said, "one day you won't even think about it."
"I really hope you're right." I said, laughing sardonically as I took a sip. My mother laughed with me before excusing herself to use the toilet. I sat quietly- looking around the restaurant, reminding me of a little café in Edinburgh that I used to study in, not too busy but not empty. It seems to have been accepted by the community here.
I wonder how that feels.
I was just beginning to feel relaxed for the first time since arriving home and that is when I saw him.
Fucking him.
Staring at me like I was a ghost- like I wasn't real, like I wasn't there at all.
I was the first to look away- one of us had to, my eyes dropped from their hold in his emerald ones and made their way over to the woman sat opposite him, with dark flowing hair and red lipstick that would make you swoon.
I dropped my gaze entirely and started playing with my napkin- suddenly wishing that I used my phone more.
I don't spend time on it anymore, only ever using it to call my mother and satiate my friends by using social media. At the moment it rests in my bag, on silent because I can't bare the thought of it going off and seeing the look on my mother's face when she sees me flinch.
My mom returned soon enough, and five minutes later I was asking for another glass of wine.
It was naïve of me to think I would not see him if I came back, but I thought it would be at least a week before I ran into him.
Not a couple of fucking hours.
I ate my dessert quickly, aching to leave the building, unable to distract myself from the way my skin crawls since seeing him.
If my mom notices she doesn't say anything and soon enough, we pay the bill and leave.
I'm exhausted by the time we get home, heading straight in the shower and then putting on and old white tee and a pair of shorts to sleep in. I'm nearly asleep when I hear my mother shouting my name from downstairs.
I throw off my cover and plod down the stairs to see her standing in front of the door, where someone stands.
The last person I wanted to see.
Actually... the third to last.
"H-Hey." He stutters out.
"Hi Harry."
"I'll give you some privacy." My mother says, leaving to go upstairs, I move to walk into the living room and Harry follows behind me, the tension in the air is hot and heavy and I'm struggling to breathe.
Neither of us sit, both of us staring at the floor shifting on our feet as we stand in silence, five years' worth of things we haven't said driving a wedge between us.
"When did you get back?" He said, voice low as if he was too loud, I would disappear.
"Today." I replied, he nodded in response and we went back to the excruciatingly deafening silence. I sat down not wanting to be stood anymore, going to the other side of the living room to put some distance between us.
"I was shocked to see you." He admitted.
"Likewise."
"How have you been?" I wasn't sure what I should say to his question- whether to answer truthfully or to just lie.
"Fine." I replied, I wasn't sure whether he would care if I told him the truth and I didn't want to find out if he did. He laughed in response.
This motherfucker laughs.
"What?" I said.
"You still can't lie to me." He replied, the smirk that I have spent the last five years trying to forget- plastered on his face.
"Why are you here?" I retorted and the smirk fell.
"I don't know." He shrugged. "Old habits die hard."
Silence.
"You looked happy." He said.
Silence.
"Are you going to speak to me?" He moved slightly closer.
"There's nothing to say." I finally spoke.
"You've been gone." He said.
"I know." I responded, unsure of where this conversation is supposed to go.
"You left."
"Can you blame me?" I remarked. He sat down on the chair next to him, we were miles apart and not just because we were sitting on opposite ends of the room.
"I just thought you would have at least said goodbye." My heart pounded in my chest, I thought time would have healed him, I thought he would have moved on.
"I couldn't see you." He stood up and moved to the sofa, closer to me. "I needed to move on and so did you."
"And have you?" If someone had asked me that before I left Edinburgh, I would have said yes but now, seeing him and being home, I'm not quite sure.
"Have you?" I countered, remembering the woman I saw with him tonight.
"Come here." He said, crooking his fingers, hoping I'd follow.
I hesitated but stood from my seat across the room, sitting down on the sofa, a space between us still trying to put distance between us. He quickly notices and moves closer to me and I feel suffocated.
Then he moves closer, his hand tucking my hair behind my ears, fingertips lingering on my jaw and neck, my whole-body stills, in shock from how he feels. I almost forgot how gentle he can be and just how much his touch can ignite me. He leans into me, his nose ghosting over my own, my eyes closed as his lips glazed ever so slightly over my own.
"I've missed you so much." He whispered and my words got caught in my throat.
"What about that woman I saw you with?" I whispered back, not sure if I should have brought it up.
"She's not you." He whispered back. "Did you miss me?"
His fingers made their way down my neck and grazed down my arms, making me shiver and lean into his warmth more.
"Answer me." He strained. "Please."
I couldn't speak, the only response I gave was the nod of my head and then, we caught alight.
His lips felt like home on my own, the only feelings of nostalgia and familiarity that I have welcomed since coming back. Our hands are all over one another as we pull each other closer and closer, he grasps at me, clinging to my body like if he lets go I'll disappear again.
His kisses move down my neck, sucking and nipping at the skin, drinking me in like he cant ever get enough, my hands find their way to the all-too familiar head of curls that seems shorter than the last time I saw him.
We find ourselves falling into a rhythm, something recognisable, something that doesn't nauseate me and make me want to curl into myself.
There's just him, and me in this moment, clinging, grasping and holding onto one another.
We break apart breathless, him resting his forehead on mine as he pulls me into his lap effortlessly, whispering words to me that I will never be able to forget.
"It's you, it's always you."
*
Enjoy!