*Earlyish update so make sure you read "The Tea Reading" before this one!*
Enduring things is what I do best.
Endure the teasing and mockery, endure the gossip and rumors, endure the grief of losing a mother, endure being the cause, endure not being able to move your own legs, endure the endless waiting and wishing for someone to come out of a coma.
It's an ugly process: full of cold tears and hot baths, burning herbs and lighting candles, deep breaths and heavy silence.
But, always, I endure.
And, eventually, the dust does settle.
When Niall and I decided to break up, I only cried for a few hours and it was because I worried about not having him in my life anymore. But, things were only awkward between us for about a week, and then life carried on as it always had.
This time around, Harry and I weren't even dating, but it feels as if my heart has been ripped out of my chest.
There is a hollowness now that makes time move slower, makes my pain more acute, makes the grief of a love never spoken aloud unbearable.
I am enduring, but this kind of hurt is unchartered territory and my soul is wounded and wandering.
So, I retire the grimoires with their charms and rituals on how to purge love from the heart. I give up trying to trick the universe into letting my love shrivel and die.
Instead, I sit with my heartbreak and coddle her, tend to her every whim. Though the pain is knives in my chest, my heart will not forget so easily.
After all, Harry is to me, what no one else has been before.
I burn blue candles in every room of the house: blue candles incite emotional healing and prosperity.
I pluck the lemons from my tree and devour them, even though the acid chaps my lips and dries my throat: lemons are known to cure lovesickness due to their citrus quality, they can help detox the heartache from the body.
I try to force myself to unlearn the gentle ferocity of his kiss and the grooves of his fingertips. I scrub my skin raw as if that will speed up the process, but my body remembers his all too well. When I close my eyes, I can still feel him next to me, can still hear his whispers in my ear.
I see him laughing in the kitchen, the sun making his hair glow red. I see him observing the lone photo on my fireplace, eyes sorrowful and concerned. I see him waiting for me in my bed, shirtless and smiling.
A lingering ghost I cannot exorcise, another haunting to add to my repertoire.
Harry also follows me into the dream world.
Some dreams are memories: teasing me about my beliefs, kissing me on that pier the first time, that smile when I gave him the camera, the first time I spent the night in his bed.
I wake from those with dried tears on my pillow and a familiar ache in my chest. But, they aren't the worst kinds of dreams I have.
The worst ones are the ones that could have been: confessing to Harry and him reciprocating my feelings, days spent gardening and laughing and exploring, nights spent in each other's arms on the couch and the bed and the counter.
I wake from those dreams with a throat so hoarse I know I'd been wailing in my sleep, fists tight from clenching, and a feeling in my chest so profoundly painful I'm afraid something is wrong with me.
The healing is laborious and exhausting, but I endure.
Now, it's been a few days since Harry showed up on my porch to rip my heart from my chest and crush it between his unforgiving palms.
I've barely left my bed, let alone my home, until today.
Today is one of those rare sunny, warm days in our little coastal village. They only come around a handful of times, but when they do, the whole town comes alive.
When the clouds clear and the sun graces us with her warmth and light, everyone ventures outside and acts as if they're all injected with sunshine. It's really the only time I don't expect to be mocked or glared at by the townsfolk when I stroll through the square. The general gloominess of our town means that the rare sunny day puts everyone in a good mood.
So, when the sun rose over the horizon this morning and showed the town her bright face, Niall knocked at my door with a wicker basket in hand and demanded I spend the day with him.
Niall is a very hard man to say no to... mostly because he'll whine until you say yes. And, honestly, when I opened the door with puffy eyes and crumbs on my shirt, the little rays of sunlight that hit my face instantly rejuvenated me.
So, I swallowed my pain and grew determined to spend the day with my best friend, surrounded by nature, and getting some much-needed vitamin D.
I was tired of wallowing in my own self-pity, only the ghosts to keep me company.
Niall was even kind enough to allow me time to shower for the first time in days –in fact, he practically shoved me in the bathroom himself and plugged his nose dramatically whilst doing so.
But, I let the water wash away my sadness and stepped out fresh and hopeful. I even decided to dress as my favorite flower as a pick-me-up.
A yellow, cropped bustier top and a pleated, silk brown skirt that grazes my calves. Yellow sandals with a small heel, brown sunglasses, and a purse in the shape and color of a lemon. As if this weren't obvious enough, I also donned my sunflower necklace and matching earrings.
Niall bit back a laugh when I walked down the stairs, but it made me feel better.
Sunflowers turn their faces to the sun and so will I.
The trek to the park is filled with screaming children flying kites and their mothers chastising them for running into the street, teenagers riding their bikes with bottles clinking in their backpacks, and elderly couples strolling along the path to soak in the sun and watch the ocean beyond the cliffs.
As predicted, the town is bustling and the people have been replaced with body-doubles who actually wave hello at Niall and I, only throwing scornful glances my way a handful of times.
We're mostly silent as we stroll along the winding sidewalk through town and up the dirt trail through the wooded area. Niall attempts to make conversation about the shop and Nan, but it's hard to pay attention.
Much to my dismay, I spend most of the walk eyeing my surroundings, both hoping and dreading the idea of running into Harry. Though most townsfolk are likely on the way to the beach, it wouldn't surprise me if I ran into Harry on the beaten path through the woods.
I'm somehow always running into him, like our souls are drawn to one another's.
Despite the anxiety that gnaws through my nerves like a hungry rat, I can't help but feel disappointed when we reach the clearing without a Harry sighting.
"Nova, did you hear me?" Niall waves a hand in front of my face and I jump slightly, turning to face his concerned expression.
"Hmm?" I flush in embarrassment, looking around to see we've stopped underneath a strong oak tree with low hanging branches, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"Our usual spot? Is this okay?"
I nod and take the worn, floral blanket from his hands, spreading it underneath the shade. Shaking the memories of Harry from my mind, I plop onto the blanket and take in the familiar sights.
When Niall and I dated eons ago, we would come up to this grassy knoll and make-out like all the kids still do today. We haven't visited this meadow in years, but not much has changed.
It remains a small clearing with tall grass where all the grasshoppers, ants, and ladybugs live in harmony. It's surrounded by a thicket of trees where dirt paths disappear and eventually lead down to the sandy beach below the cliffs.
It's a sad excuse for a park, but it does have a rusty swing set and small jungle gym with a slide. The only thing separating the cliff's edge from the makeshift playground is a wooden fence the height of a small child. I wonder, not for the first time, how this park is still open to the public.
Regardless, sitting on the lumpy grass, underneath this familiar old tree, and staring out into dazzling ocean blue, I feel at peace.
It reminds me of simpler times sneaking up here with Niall in the middle of the night and forgetting, even if just for a few hours, about my father lying in a hospital bed and my mother's corpse rotting in the earth.
It was really the only time I felt like a normal teenager. So, visiting this place again with the sun warming my face and best friend by my side seems to calm the storm raging inside me.
"Thank you, Niall."
He's unpacking the contents of the basket: my favorite rosé, grapes, a wheel of gouda, and crackers. My whispered gratitude makes him meet my soft gaze with confusion, "wait, you think I brought all this for you? No way... you should've brought your own."
I laugh, shoving him lightly on the shoulder as he grins, pleased with himself, and pours the wine into plastic wine glasses.
We sit, listening to the birds hidden in the trees, and watch the couple on a bench at the edge of the cliff taking in the sites. It's almost entirely silent, only the sounds of insects and the ocean waves beyond filling the quiet.
I sit, legs crossed, and thighs pressing against the warmth of Niall's jeans. I feast on the grapes and Niall snacks on the cheese, a warm breeze sifting through the trees.
The wine is crisp and strong and as I'm sipping on it, a stark flash of blue and white soars across my vision, and a magpie lands on a tree stump just a yard away. I freeze, mid-sip, as the bird turns and stares at me.
Magpies are notoriously known as omens of evil or ill fortune. Magpies are thought to carry the blood of the devil because they're cannibalistic animals that feast on each other's remains. Seeing one lone magpie is especially bad luck, as they usually travel in herds. They often warn of death or betrayal.
Well, that's comforting.
The beady, black eyes bare into my soul, unflinching and disconcerting. I can't look away even when my hand shakes and throat dries. Niall notices my sudden change in demeanor, following my gaze to the perched bird.
Suddenly, Niall shifts, bringing his arm back and throwing a pebble at the magpie. I gasp, afraid to anger it, but the bird is unharmed and flies off to frighten another unsuspecting person, letting out one single screech as it leaves.
"Fowl creatures." Niall grumbles, leaning forward to eat more cheese, oblivious to my stricken expression. I try to shake off the ominous occurrence and not to read too much into the soulless eyes of the death bird.
First the owl, then the crow, now the magpie? Is this a Hitchcock film?
Forgetting the evil birds and their proclivity for following me, I focus instead on the delights of the picnic Niall has packed for us.
I feast on the fresh green grapes, devouring them all in less than ten minutes, only now realizing how little I've eaten in the past few days. Niall makes idle chatter as he munches on the cheese and crackers, but we mostly just enjoy the breeze and the radiance of the sun in silence
The food and wine make me groggy and satisfied, so I lay back on the blanket just as a woman and her daughter break through the trees and head towards the swing set.
The scene is like something from a cheesy movie: the mum laughing as she pushes the small child on the swing and the girl squealing with delight the higher she goes. Light, joyful, unattainable.
I watch them intently, their carefree day at the park both enchanting and sorrowful.
Is it possible to feel nostalgic over something you've never experienced?
I'm grateful for the veil my sunglasses provide because tears suddenly prick at my eyes and I have to look away from them. My mother shifts above me, the aroma Chanel and seaweed drifting through the breeze.
I do endure, but my strength has waned with my newest heartbreak. And this small, everyday occurrence suddenly drudges up emotions I have long buried, feelings I no longer acknowledge. My emotional state fragile and easily triggered, the tears pool out the side of my eyes and a heavy lump forms in my throat. I can't help the sniffle that escapes, Niall instantly turning to examine me.
He purses his lips, the sun glinting off the blonde of his hair like a halo. With a sigh, he lies down next me, turning his head to face mine. I bite my cheek in a feeble attempt to stop the tears, but the longer Niall stares at me, the more unstable I become.
The sunny day is ineffectual against the magnitude of my misfortunes.
I'm forced to confront his gaze when it becomes too much and that's all the invitation Niall needs. "Why do you stay here, Nova?"
"What do you mean? You want me to leave?" I laugh, but the sound is choked by tears. Niall doesn't return my light-hearted tone. His sigh is heavy, but the sheer sadness and sympathy in his eyes is heavier.
"No, I mean... why do you stay in this town when you're clearly so unhappy?"
I can barely hear his question over the screaming little girl, but his breath fans my face and I have to blink a few times to make sure I heard him right.
Unhappy?
Sure, my short life has been wrought with tragedy, the newest one a broken heart, but I have never once considered myself an unhappy person. I endure it all with a smile on my face and hope alive in my heart.
I have Nan, Niall, and my father here... why would I leave? How can I be unhappy?
Do I... Do I seem unhappy?
His eyes are soft and an even lighter blue than the sky in the brightness of the day. His question troubles me, the child and her mother forgotten. The inquiry comes out-of-nowhere, but his voice is so firm and sober, I wonder how long he's been thinking about this.
I take off my shades to meet his troubled gaze, so he can see the confusion and concern in my own. "Why do you think I'm unhappy?"
He looks away, towards the cloudless sky, and works his jaw as he tries to formulate an answer. His aura is a blazing yellow today, matching the sun and my top, and it flares out in waves. The brightness of it doesn't match the seriousness of this conversation, but I soak in its radiance.
When he finally speaks, his voice is solemn and low and I have to strain my ears to hear, "I don't think you've been happy for a long time... I think you just pretend or you want to be happy so bad that you think acting like you are might actually make it true."
His words are like an arrow to the heart, they pierce a veil there and everything is suddenly, painfully clear. The smokescreen dissipates and reveals the ugly beast of sorrow beneath.
My throat closes even more, a sharp intake of air burning my throat. I contemplate his words, not fully understanding my own emotions. I've always considered myself a joyful and positive person despite my own grief. But, have I genuinely felt that way with my whole chest?
Has it all been a façade?
I'm silent for a while, trying desperately to think of a time I was truly, genuinely happy.
I wrack my brain and search my soul, images flashing of Nan and I at the shop, Niall and I goofing off at home, Harry making me breakfast, Harry perfecting my form in the boxing ring, Harry tickling me in bed...
Though those last memories hurt to think about, they were joyful moments in my life. But, I'm shocked to find that most of these images end with me turning around and my smile fading.
To my great dismay, I can't recall a single time where I've actually felt purely happy. Only pockets of joy. Momentary sparks of light in an endlessly dark tunnel.
I've never considered myself a sad person, but maybe I have been all along and just mastered this lie. I've prided myself on never lying to those I love, but maybe I have been all along and I didn't even realize it myself.
My face crumples at the stark realization and the tears threaten to fall, but I wipe them away at the source.
If only my therapist was as perceptive as Niall.
"But, you make me happy... you and Nan both make me happy. Maybe I'm sadder than I'd like to admit, but the genuine joys in my life are you two... Why would I leave?"
His small mouth quirks up in a smile, but it's too sad for me to bare. "Thanks, but you know we would follow you wherever you go... So, what's keeping you in this town that hates you and in a house that's more like a tomb?"
Ouch.
Harsh, but true, I still shake my head. "I can't... I can't leave, Niall. My dad is here. I need to be here when he wakes up... I can't leave him here alone."
Niall's frown grows and he turns on his side to face me properly, elbow propping him up, "you could take him with you."
"It's too dangerous to move him and he needs to be somewhere familiar if –when– he wakes up," I pout, chest heavy with this conversation and all the lightness of the picnic and the warm day vanished. I try to gain back some semblance of lightheartedness. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"
He scoffs and leans over to fill my glass with more wine. "Please, I couldn't get rid of you if I tried. You'd put a curse me or something."
I shove him lightly and he laughs, both of us sipping on the slowly warming wine. Wiping my face again, the conversation quickly reverts back to the serious topic.
"I just... feel as if you've hit pause. You've put your life on hold all this time, hoping that your dad might wake up one day." I cringe at his choice of words and Niall shoots me an apologetic glance, but powers through. "Don't you worry you're missing out? I mean... you deserve so much more than this place and these people."
His hand gestures to all around us and I watch as the mother and daughter disappear down one of the trails leading to the beach.
He's right, of course.
I have put my life on hold. If I'm honest, I've been frozen in time since the accident.
Just waiting. Always waiting for my dad to wake up, for life to resume as normal.
When kids at school began to date, I was in physical therapy, learning to walk again. When they started to apply to Uni, I was moving my dad to an assisted care unit. When they began to move away and begin their lives, I was here with my dad and Nan.
I wasn't really allowed a proper childhood and, now, my adulthood is spent waiting for my dad to wake up and my life to begin. It's all I've really known though, this perpetual waiting. I don't even know what I would do if I did hit play.
"I need to stay for my dad, Niall... If I leave it's like I'm giving up on him, on the idea of him waking up." I meet Niall's concerned gaze and listen to the waves kissing the cliff's edge, "I can't give up on that, I need to stay hopeful. That he'll wake up, that I'll see him again... If I don't have hope, Niall... I have nothing."
The strength in my voice trickles off towards the end as the truth of my statement hits my chest and knocks the wind out of me. The hope that he will open his eyes is really the only thing keeping me together.
I refuse to give up on that dream, to move on without him.
I've already failed one parent, I won't fail my last.
So, I'll wait. I'll stay in this town and work in the shop, water my plants, goof off with Niall, and wait. However long it takes, even if my skin grows slack and my hair greys and my bones rot, I'll wait for my dad.
If I don't have hope, I have nothing.
Niall sighs and nods his head, laying down on his back and dropping the subject.
There's really no arguing with me wanting to stay in town for my coma-patient father.
But, the concern in his words and care for me makes a lump form in my throat for a different reason. Though I wasn't expecting such a heavy conversation at our fun picnic, I can tell this has been bothering for a while.
What a softy.
I lean over to plant a lingering, soft kiss on his stubbly cheek. I feel the skin lift in a grin and smile into the kiss, grateful to have him in my life.
"Will you look at this Hallmark moment, how cute!"
I freeze, body stilling against Niall's as the familiar, lilting voice rings through my ears. Heart hammering in my chest, I open my eyes to see white toenails in strappy sandals and a pair of dirty, old Vans at the end of our blanket.
Oh spirits, why have you forsaken me?
Heat rises up my chest and face, as I take in the two people I want to see least in the world right now.
Zoe with her dark skin glowing in the sunlight, long hair in braids, and beige sundress fitting her curvy frame perfectly. Harry with his curls slightly greasy, tattoos almost fully exposed by his button-down, and black jeans tattered.
I sit up quickly, surprised by their sudden appearance, and flustered over being caught in a compromising position. Though, there's nothing wrong with kissing your best friend on the cheek, I'm sure the scene looked much different to onlookers
Zoe's smile is bright as she appraises Niall and I, honey eyes clear and light makeup perfectly intact. The beige of her aura matches her dress, more vibrant than the times I've seen her before.
Those with tan shades in their aura are highly analytical individuals. They tend to see the world in black-and-white and are extremely practical in their decisions. These souls love detail-oriented work and have a very strategic way of thinking. Often, these individuals may seem cold or calculated, but this is due to their unemotional way of looking at the world.
We are clearly very different people, though one is not better than the other. She is just the very antithesis of myself and it's a wonder Harry has been attached to us both in some way.
I'm up among the stars and her feet are planted firmly on the earth.
Despite the flatness of her aura, Zoe is practically glowing under the warmth of the sun. Her skin is shining bronze and her eyes are a warm honey, light and carefree. She hardly looks like a woman who just ended a three-year relationship.
Reluctant, my eyes flit to Harry and am surprised by his demeanor. A stark contrast to Zoe's sunny demeanor, a storm has passed over Harry's expression. He works at his jaw, mouth as tight as the crease between his brows, eyes darkened and narrow.
The burnt orange of his aura is predictably tinged by pink edges and I set my jaw against the telling shade, not letting that hurt settle into my bones.
Harry does not even bother to glance at me, his glare solely focused on Niall.
Though I'm confused at his annoyed expression, I'm perfectly fine with him ignoring me. Not only is my face likely puffy from crying, but I'm not sure I could take that intense stare turned on me.
I'm afraid what my expression might reveal, what it might do to my healing heart.
"Zoe, Harry, hello... what are you two up to?"
Niall finally sits up with me, raising his knees and resting his arms on them. He glances between the three of us, chewing on his lip. Harry finally acknowledges my presence when I address him, nostrils flaring, and arms crossing against his chest.
What's that about?
"It's such a beautiful day, Harry and I were just going to go for a stroll on the beach."
Zoe is unusually friendly, but my stomach still churns at her words and I have to look away from her carefree expression. I want to be happy for them, for Harry who has wanted this for so long, but there is an ugly monster inside me that poisons my mind and turns it bitter.
How easily he moved on, how unaffected he was by our whole affair. How could love have grown on my heart like mold and his remained completely unmoved? Did it really mean nothing like it was meant to?
"What are you two up to? Looks awful cozy."
Harry's words are clipped, accusatory. They make my head snap up to see his face pinched in annoyance, his stare even more damning. Why is he so angry? Shouldn't I be the cross one?
"Like your girlfriend said, it's such a beautiful day, thought we'd have ourselves a picnic." Niall shrugs, leaning into me and nearly knocking me over, voice guarded and scornful.
Girlfriend.
Bile claws up my throat at the term and I busy myself with finishing off my glass of wine, hoping to smother the flaring pain that bursts from my gut and spreads through my chest.
Harry loses some of his steam, sending a sharp glance my way, "we're not–"
"You two are so cute!" Zoe cuts Harry off, much to his chagrin, and gestures at Niall and I. "Harry told me you used to date and I didn't believe him! I can see it now... though you do oddly look more like siblings than lovers."
Her words nearly make me choke on my wine and Niall gingerly pats me on the back. I hear Harry shift in the grass and when I regain my composure, I look up at the two of them again. The sun is glaring and I slip back on my shades to get a clearer view of their expressions and hide my own.
Zoe looks pleased with herself for the comment, tight smile as she flips her braids over her shoulder. Harry still looks indignant, hands now stuffed in his pants and shoulders stiff.
Niall catches my eye and I think we're both wondering if we should tell her we aren't a couple anymore. There's something in Harry's dark expression as he glances between Niall and I that makes me think he may truly believe this is a date.
Even though we've spoken at great length how Niall and I are best friends, could he really believe that? And be bothered by it? Or is he more so bothered by the fact that he ran into the woman he used to sleep with while on a date with the woman he actually loves?
Likely, the latter.
"We're really just friends." I laugh and Niall catches my eye, grinning mischievously. Zoe hums under her breath, as if not believing us, but its Harry's scoff that makes the silence grow heavy and uncomfortable.
I glance up at him, the sun marring his face slightly, but I do see the set of his jaw as he shakes his head and avoids my eyes. His passive aggression makes my annoyance flare and I rub at the blue and white stone set into the ring on my left hand at take deep breaths to calm myself.
Sodalite is a calming crystal meant to relieve stress and balance emotions. If one feels overwhelmed or unable to remain peaceful, this stone helps to ease this stress and bring tranquility to the soul.
A few breaths, and smoothing over the small stone I decide to ignore him and change the subject, "Zoe, I'm really sorry about your breakup... I hope it was amicable."
Zoe's brows raise and there's a secretive smile on her face as she scoffs. "Nothing with Liam is ever amicable, but... thank you, Nova."
The sincerity in her tone surprises me, and she clears her throat awkwardly, looking away. I avoid Harry's gaze, though I feel him glaring at me.
Seeing them together, both so beautiful and so comfortable with each other, makes my chest squeeze and cheeks heat with embarrassment.
I suddenly want to curse Niall for dragging me out of the house today. This picnic, though well-meant, has been disastrous.
An uncomfortable silence passes between us before Zoe suddenly perks up and starts digging through the canvas bag by her side. "We'll let you two get back to your date, but could you take our picture first?"
I watch, completely frozen with horrified shock, as she pulls my father's camera from her bag.
I nearly gasp, jaw growing slack and eyes wide as she handles Harry's gift, my chest caving in on itself. From the corner of my eye, I see Harry scramble and try to grab the camera from her, but she just laughs and insists on a picture and my vision blurs with unshed tears.
All I can hear now is the blood rushing through my ears, my own heart's sluggish beats, and my lung's ragged breaths. I blink rapidly because I see things sometimes, but sure enough, the gift I gave Harry for his birthday is held in her perfectly manicured hands.
Why does she have my dad's camera?
Niall reaches a hand out to grasp mine, "isn't that–"
I squeeze his hand to get him to stop talking, effectively cutting him off, as my heart thunders in my chest and stomach hollows out. Harry's eyes are trained on me, panicked and pleading. I quickly look away, clear my throat, and stand on shaky knees.
"Sure."
I grab the camera from Zoe, it feeling both familiar and foreign in my grasp.
"Oh, do you know how to work it?" She asks innocently, brows scrunched.
I still, finger on the shutter, and level a knowing stare at Harry, who gulps and shakes his head at me. "I'm familiar, yes."
She smiles, oblivious, and grabs Harry by the arm, leaning into his side. I breathe through the pain, the disbelief, and try to exude an air of indifference. Harry is still staring at me, trying to communicate, but I close him off, heart shattering all over again.
I bring them into frame, the couple shining and picture-perfect, with me on the outside looking in. They suddenly blur and I blink back the wetness in my eyes, pulling the lever of the camera back.
"Nova–"
"Smile."
Cutting Harry off, I count down from three and snap the photo of a grinning Zoe and frowning Harry. I purse my lips to stop them from trembling and pass the camera back to Zoe, but Harry intercepts it.
His fingers just barely graze my own and they're warm and soft and send a spark of fire licking down my spine. The hairs on my arm raise and I quickly snatch my hand away. Harry hesitates, heavy stare on me, before he slings the camera over his shoulder.
"Thanks for holding it for me, Zoe." But, his gaze remains on me while he says it, emerald eyes lighter today and pleading with me to hear him. "I can carry it from here."
She just shrugs and waves at us. "Fine... nice seeing you guys again." She starts to turn to leave, but almost can't help herself, "by the way, Nova, a cold compress does wonders for puffy eyes."
I tighten my jaw and mumble a thank you as she struts off towards the steep dirt path that leads down the cliff. Harry lingers, hesitating, but I can't meet his imploring eyes.
I knew this was bound to happen. I knew that, in this small town, I was bound to run into the two at some point. But, seeing it in person is a lot different than conceptualizing it in your head.
And it's so much worse than I imagined.
Finally, when Harry realizes I'm not going to acknowledge him, he turns on his heel and follows Zoe down the path to the sand.
———
By the following day, all of the warmth and sunshine is swallowed by clouds and a gloom creeps back into town, casting a shadow on everyone and everything.
The deep chill had me donning my cropped beige sweater and matching trousers when I grudgingly left the house this morning and even that doesn't provide enough warmth against this cold.
The town is mostly deserted once again, all of the townspeople retreating back into their hovels to protect themselves against the icy weather until the next time the sun decides to grace our town. I, myself, am hurriedly making my way back towards the warmth of my own home after a frustrating therapy session.
Dr. Jones is the only therapist in town, one I've been seeing now since I was a teen, but all he seems to do is make me feel worse about my problems.
Though I hadn't felt ready to talk about any recent developments in my life anyway, all Dr. Jones could focus on is how he believes my crystals and talismans are coping mechanisms for the grief I refuse to acknowledge.
I had to sit there and listen for an hour as he critiqued the very belief system that keeps me afloat and guides my soul
Instead of a cathartic release, I left more upset and dejected than when I came in.
I shift the now empty container in my hands, holding it close to my chest as a barrier against the biting cold.
At least he appreciated the cupcakes I baked him.
After the picnic debacle yesterday, I couldn't bring myself to fall asleep, tossing and turning all night. The image of Harry and Zoe haunted me the rest of the day and followed me into my dreams.
I quickly gave up on sleep and spent the rest of the night baking, surrounded by calming candles and soft music. Though I'm not particularly great at baking, I find it very therapeutic.
By the time the sun filtered in through my kitchen windows I had made two dozen cookies, a loaf of banana bread, and a batch of cupcakes. On my way to therapy this morning, I dropped the cookies off at the shop for customers or Niall –whoever got to them first– and saved the cupcakes for Dr. Jones.
First, he complained about them being vegan. Then, he devoured the whole batch throughout the hour-long session. Despite his negativity and general muddiness of his aura, I'm glad I gave him the desert.
It felt nice to spread a little joy when life has felt so joyless lately.
My mother's domineering spirit clings to my shoulders as I make my way home from the session, but I welcome the company. I feel more lonely and destitute coming from therapy than I have in a long time.
Despite having Nan's and Niall's hands to hold, I've felt isolated for years. Sitting in my big, empty house with its empty walls and empty rooms, I was alone more days than not. Then, Harry came along and made the world feel a little fuller, made the void not seem so daunting.
I had something to look forward to every day, someone to pass the time with, and the monotony of my life was broken.
Every day felt exciting and full of life.
I grew so used to having him around that it's disorienting to have my life revert back to normal. Before he came along and filled my life with noise, I grew comfortable in the silence. Now that it's back, the quiet is almost deafening.
I do endure, but the sighting of Harry and Zoe together yesterday was a battering ram against my heart. It was also a much-needed reality check that this is my new normal: back to the silence and emptiness, but now the silence is heavy and the emptiness feels endless.
Because I know what I'm missing.
Part of me wishes I'd never known at all.
"Nova!"
The universe has a very sick sense of humor.
I can barely hear him over the roaring wind, but his raspy voice rings in my ears and makes my heart stutter in my chest. I hear the familiar tapping of boots running up behind me on the sidewalk and wonder what Harry would think if I just booked it all the way home and ignored his call as if I hadn't heard him.
Instead, I freeze and brace myself for coming face-to-face with him. My throat is suddenly dry and I try to work my expression into one of aloofness.
The crisp wind whips my hair into my face and effectively blocks my view as I turn to face him. But, I feel his warmth and smell his woodsy scent before I see him.
Shivering against the cold, I move the hair out of my face and take in the glorious sight.
He looks just as he did the night he came to my porch in the rain: reddened cheeks and nose, huddled into his brown jacket, curls wild and falling into his face.
He's so beautiful it hurts. Like a sculpture come to life.
I hug the Tupperware to my chest, my chunky heels and the steep slope of the cobblestone sidewalk making me slightly taller than Harry. He sniffs, appraising me with guarded eyes, and I try to get the sound of him calling my name out of my head. It sounds so lovely coming out of his mouth, but it's agonizing to hear when our relationship has shifted so.
"Hi, Harry."
He seems slightly off-put by my dead-pan tone, stuttering, "where... uh, where are you headed?"
"Home."
He nods, jumping a bit to keep himself warm. Looking off to the side and pulling his lip ring into his mouth, he seems really nervous. "Can... can I walk you?"
I glance over his shoulder, wondering where he possibly could have come from. This side-road really only leads to the small office building at the edge of town. His chest rises and falls rapidly, breath visible in the air, and I wonder if he'd seen me from somewhere in the square and chased me down from there.
"No, that's alright. I'm almost home."
I immediately regret the rejection because Harry's face falls dramatically and he stumbles backwards. But, I already know that being around him right now and acting as if nothing happened, as if I my heart doesn't yearn for his, won't help my mourning process.
Not when the image of the couple smiling towards the lens of my dad's camera is still burned into my brain.
I can't take much more.
Firm in my resolve, I set my shoulders and continue the trek up the hill, but Harry is hot on my heels.
"What? Why not? I've barely spoken to you in over a week," he grumbles under his breath, stride matching my own. "Not to mention you missed your boxing lesson this week."
I try to walk faster, but his legs are longer than mine and he easily catches up with me. Trying very hard to not be rude, I take deep breaths and focus on the path ahead of me.
"I don't think Zoe would particularly like you hanging around me." That is, if she knew Harry and I had slept together. Though, something tells me he's remained mum on that subject.
He scoffs and the sound cuts through me, "why would you think that? Maybe because Niall doesn't like you hanging around me?"
This effectively stops me in my tracks and Harry nearly bumps into me at my abrupt halt, the bitter edge to his voice flaring the hurt and rage in my chest. What does Niall have to do with anything?
I meet his dark, mossy eyes, and try to maintain my composure. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Harry shrugs and purses his lips, his stare so intense and imploring I can't bear to look away. This side street behind the businesses remains empty except for the critters in the trees and I'm thankful for it.
The energy between us has drastically shifted and I feel a pull at my gut telling me to walk away, telling me something is about to happen and I'm not going to like it.
"I don't know, you tell me... You and Niall seemed awfully close yesterday."
Though he doesn't say it aloud, the implication of his words rings clear in the air and a sharp laugh bursts from my chest at the ludicrous presumption. But, my laughter only makes his eyes narrow, the air charged. "You're kidding, right?"
"Didn't mean to interrupt your date, sorry about that," he continues on, jaw tight and arms crossed against his chest.
The beast inside of me bats its wings against my ribcage, flaring my own rage and hurt. I'm confused by his sudden anger and the source of this irritation. Nevertheless, his words cut at my tattered heart.
The control of my emotions that I've perfected throughout the years is wearing thin, every word from his mouth chipping away at my composure. Harry is the only person to ever make me feel so out-of-sync with my soul.
I don't like what he can do to me.
"Mind your own date, Harry... you shouldn't even be worried about me or what I do or who I'm with anymore. You should be focused on Zoe." And then, slightly hopeful, but mostly angry, "why do you care, anyway?"
My question gives him pause, quells some of the fire in his expression. His brows scrunch in confusion and he finally breaks the intense stare-down we were in to glance at his feet.
"I don't... I was just making conversation."
"Well, don't!" The words burst from my chest with such force that we both rear back in equal shock. There is a venom in my tone that makes Harry's jaw drop and I swallow the lump in my throat, shame coating my face red.
I almost never lose my temper, never raise my voice. It's not who I am, I don't want my soul to grow dark, to hurt the people around me.
But, it's exhausting trying to keep it together when I'm in constant pain and heartbreak. I'm at the end of my rope and it's slowly thinning away, about to snap at any second.
Harry seems to feel the same way.
"Why are you so pissed at me?" He throws his hands up in exasperation, but there is a hurt in his eyes that surprises me. "Is this about the camera? Because my shoulder was just getting tired and Zoe only offered to carry–"
"Harry! It's not about the camera!" I hesitate slightly, the words heavy on my tongue, "not really, anyway."
"Then what is it about?"
He seems so confused, so frustrated, that I feel my eyes growing hot with tears. I shake my head and start to walk away again because I know if this conversation continues I'm going to confess the feelings I've kept so close to my chest.
"Stop walking away from me, Nova!" Harry grips my arm and, even through my sweater, I feel the heat of his hand like a burning stove. "Just tell me what's bothering you, what I did! You're always leaving me in the dark and I'm so lost."
I try to rip my arm from his grasp, but he only holds on tighter, the other hand nearly ripping his hair out in frustration. The red of his aura flares out like a hiss and the blood pumps in my ears, heart struggling to keep up.
"Fuck, Nova, I know I fucked up and I treated you like shit and I'm so fucking sorry, but you told me you forgave me for that... But, you've been ignoring me and now you can't even look at me." He tries to meet my eyes, but I just can't. I don't want him to see the hot tears pooling there or the love so plainly reflected in them. "I thought we were friends? I didn't think ending our deal would mean ending our friendship... that fucking hurts."
His words truly shock me and I stop trying to fight my way out of his grasp. He thinks I'm the one rejecting him?
Despite the brisk chill the wind carries between us, I'm suddenly extremely hot. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I try to process what he's saying.
I would never ignore him on purpose, I just couldn't bare to see him moving on without me. Couldn't be around him when I was still recovering from my heartache.
I never meant to hurt him.
But, how could he be so blind? I've loved him silently, but I feel as if it's been so obvious to others. He's gotten so wrong that it pains and aggravates me. I'm tired of staying silent, tired of keeping these feelings inside. My soul is aching for release.
I try to open my mouth to say something, but Harry can't stop himself now, "I mean I know it might be a little awkward, but I didn't think you would just cut me out of your life...I really thought we were growing closer, that we weren't just fucking... that we were friends, but–"
"Harry."
"But, as soon as we decide to stop sleeping together, you just stop talking to me and you won't tell me why. And–"
"Harry."
"And if you really want to be with Niall, then just fucking tell me, because–"
"Harry!"
Finally, he stops rambling, out of breath and red-faced. He looks at me for the first time since his rant began, narrowing in on the tight grip he has on my arm and letting go instantly. He swallows, shoulders rising and falling rapidly.
My own heart thunders in my chest so hard and fast I'm afraid it'll crack a rib and the lump in my throat makes it hard to breathe as I realize what a mess this whole thing has become. I finally meet his eyes and they're so troubled and beautiful as they search my own.
How could he have it so backwards? How could he not see?
The words I kept trying to swallow back down, the ones I thought had died on my tongue suddenly bubble up again, uncontrollable and desperate for relief.
I feel the fight leave me in a gust of air, shaking my head in exhaustion and letting out a breathy laugh.
The tether has snapped and I'm the one falling.
"I love you."
The words that have been itching at the back of my throat for weeks are finally free and I release a heavy breath, my lungs like a deflating balloon. My entire frame sags with liberation and even my mother hops off my back, sensing the cathartic release from my bones.
Following this intense sense of relief is an anxiety that that sits at the back of my stomach, gnawing on the organ there.
Not for the answer, I know the answer, but for the reaction.
Nothing happens for a while. Harry's expression remains the same, as if in shock, as if not completely sure he heard me correctly. The wind howls between the trees, making our hair flap in our faces, but the birds are silent and the air settles and the earth all around holds its breath in anticipation.
He blinks rapidly, jaw opening and closing slowly. "What?"
A deep breath, voice soft and sure, "I love you, Harry. I'm in love with you and have been for some time... That's why I've been avoiding you."
A few more blinks, and then I slowly see the realization dawn on him, emerald eyes clearing with understanding. Then, to my great astonishment and horror, he begins to laugh.
The sound is sharp and biting and it cuts right through me.
I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this.
"No, you don't." The smile is fixed on his face as the chuckles fall from his lips at a declining speed once he sees the seriousness in my expression. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
The idea is so offensive, so demeaning, that all I can do is cock my head at him and cross my arms in annoyance. How could he think I would joke about my feelings, be so flippant with my love?
Is the concept of my loving him so outlandish? So far-fetched?
Slowly, he realizes that I, and my feelings, are very serious.
Then, the real horror begins.
His face slackens in shock and he staggers back, shaking his head. All the while, I feel the humiliation heat my face and heartache turn my breaths ragged. I just watch as he grapples with this information, tries to understand what it means.
I desperately want to run to the shelter of my empty home, but I force my feet to stay planted. For peace of mind, I need to hear his response and I refuse to run from my problems. I endure.
"Nova, no. You... you can't," his head shakes with desperation, as if denying it will make it false. "Since when? I mean... this isn't–"
"It's not as if I meant to, Harry." I cut off his rambling, watching as his expression shifts to one of confusion. Even though my heart is bleeding in my chest, I ease his worries. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I know you love Zoe and I'm not trying to confuse you. I didn't tell you so that you could say it back... I told you because you need to know and I needed to say it."
Hands in his hair, Harry levels a stare at me full of distress and confusion. My words do little to pacify him and his reaction is much worse than I imagined.
Though I feel the great relief that comes with baring one's soul, confessing one's love. It's quickly replaced by the mortification and deep sorrow that comes with a swift rejection.
I swallow down my sadness and try to remain composed. "So, now you know why I've been distant... It has nothing to do with you, but all to do with me. I'm sorry if I hurt you."
On some level, I think I always knew I'd have to tell Harry how I felt. I simply can't live with this weight on my heart, with him not knowing that he touched me in a way no one has before.
I just didn't think it would happen like this, didn't think it would make me feel this way.
Licking his lips, he still seems too stunned to fully comprehend the weight of what I'm confessing. Crushingly, underneath the confusion and shock is the pity I was so afraid to see. "I don't... Nova, I'm sorry..."
The unspoken answer to my profession hangs in the air between us, suffocating me. I close my eyes against the sympathy in his tone, the dejection, against my own blurring vision.
"I know, I've always known... It's alright." Harry tries to say something, but no words come out. His expression remains perplexed and compassionate. "I understand, Harry... Thank you for hearing me."
Without another word, I turn on my heel and try not to sprint away from this horrible scene that will replay in my head for the rest of my life. He doesn't follow me, but I feel his heavy stare until I turn a corner.
I try to keep it together as I wind through the empty streets, the temperature growing drastically colder with every step. My cheeks are so numb from the chill that I don't even release I'm crying until the tears begin to fall onto my sweater and my nose drips.
I'm disoriented and dazed and my legs just take me where I need to go, led by my mother's spirit. Reaching my house with blurry vision and choked sobs, all I want to do is race straight up to my room and lock out the world, but something stops me in my tracks.
The final cosmic joke that ends this chapter of my life: the rose bush that bloomed brilliantly out of nowhere, signifying my love, has turned black with death in the few hours I've been gone.
I feel my own heart wither and die too, the void bleak and unending.
I endure, I endure, I endure.
But, when will the suffering end?
______
I've been staring at this update forever, so here you go! I'm not totally happy with it, but needed to be done lol.
FR this time tho, I won't be updating again until mid-late december so i can focus on finals. Hopefully, this tides you over.
Lots of ppl have said they arent being notified when I update so pls follow me on Wattpad or other socials so you receive my announcements! I know this chapter was slower and sad, but next chapter is Harry's POV that will def be ~spicy~
I tried uploading Nova's outfits here for the first time, but if you don't see them, check Insta!
Thoughts? Predictions?
Love you all xx
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