—
I sit silently on Harry's couch, it's early. Too early for him to be up yet. I didn't plan on staying over last night, but he had explained to me that he wanted me to stay and he felt better if I was with him. So I stayed.
After having the night to sleep on the information I learned yesterday, I'm extremely worried. I've never dealt with addiction but I know a lot about it, I've written a few papers on it before, granted they probably were shit, but I picked up a lot of valuable information.
I'm worried about Harry. I want to talk to him about everything and make everything make sense because right now, it's all jumbled in my mind and nothing is connecting.
He's been a meth addict for six years, meaning he would've gotten into drugs when he was fourteen. He was barely a high schooler. But I also don't understand what made him want to get into drugs, how did this all start and was it always meth? And why was he alone when he told me his mom would be visiting for Christmas.
There's so many gaps.
And to add onto it all, Harry never speaks about his family and I've never seen a photo with him and his parents or maybe even a sibling. And the music room which sparked this whole argument between us. What was so terrible that he didn't want me to see. Or rather, himself. It just doesn't add up.
I hear the sink running from his bedroom, signaling he's up now. Earlier than I expected. I've been up since seven thinking and it's now a bit past ten.
In all honesty, I'm nervous to see him. I know I saw and talked to him last night, but he was still high and wasn't in the right state of mine. Today, he could be angry and want nothing to do with me again, he could flip his shit and need to shoot up again.
"Morning." Harry mumbles, rubbing his eyes tiredly with his cigarette hanging between his lips. I watch him intently as he moves to stand beside the sliding door, sliding it open just enough so his smoke goes outside and doesn't linger. "Don't look so nervous, Clo." He continues, my face slightly falling.
"How do you feel?" I ask quietly, he's stood in grey sweatpants and a green hoodie, his curls messy and a small strand laying over his forehead out of place.
"I'm fine, sweetheart. I know how this goes." He answers, a small barely noticeable smile plays on his lips as he finishes his cigarette and tosses it outside, sliding the door closed.
"Is there anything I can do?" I question, Harry simply shaking his head as he moves to stand in front of me, my neck slightly craning back so I can look at him.
"Nothing you aren't already doing." He answers sweetly, leaning down to me and pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. I stiffen at his action, Harry's lips warm against my skin.
"I'm not doing much of anything." I tell him, he shakes his head and flops down on the couch beside me.
"You're here and that's more than enough." He mumbles. I sigh, not used to this side of him. And frankly I'm not sure if I've ever seen this side of him. The sides that he doesn't seem bothered and he's being sweet. Last night doesn't really count because he was high and wasn't himself.
I send him a small smile, my eyes tracing over his face and his tired features. Even after a night like last night, his eyes are puffy from the tears and he looks incredibly tired, he still looks so good.
"Your mom didn't come for Christmas." I mumble, turning my body so I sit sideways on his couch, my legs crossed together. Harry sits lowly and comfortably, his legs stretched out with his arms crossed over his chest, his hood now tugged over his head.
"Roads were closed, I didn't think having her driving here was a good idea." He tells me, gently running his fingers over my knee, his eyes trained on his own movements. "You got here okay, didn't you?" He asks, I nod my head.
"You scared me." I mumble, his eyes flickering up to meet mine. I know he isn't as open with his feelings as I am, but I think he should know that I care about him. More than I ever imagined I would.
"I didn't mean to." He answers quietly, pushing himself to sit up fully on the couch, his hand returning to its gentle movements over my thigh and knee. "I have it under control, Clo, there's nothing you need to worry about." He tells me.
"I'm still going to worry." I mumble. Harry simply grins lightly and leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.
"How was Christmas?" He questions when he pulls away. I shrug my shoulders, letting out a short sigh. I spent the whole time thinking about you.
"It was fine." I shrug, Harry furrowing his eyebrows at me like he didn't expected me to answer like that. "Uneventful and quiet." I add on, Harry rolling his eyes at me.
"Your parents, how were they?" He asks. I slightly widen my eyes, surprised that he remembered. I had only briefly explained to him why I didn't want to go home, I just can't believe that he remembered.
"They were fine, I kind of got into with my mom the first night but that was it." I mutter, Harry nodding his head. Both of us glance over at the door when a loud knock echoes through the apartment, Harry calling out that it's open.
The door swings open and Zayn, the tattoo artist who worked on Harry, walks in with a smug smirk on his face, closing the door behind him. But he doesn't look happy.
"You dumb fuck!" He barks at Harry my eyes slightly widening. Harry stands from the couch, his eyes narrowed and his face hardened like it always is as he nudges his head towards me, Zayn only just realizing I'm here. "Sorry, Clover." He apologizes, I simply shake my head as a way to brush his apology away.
"Look, I know I fucked up. But I'm figuring it out." Harry grumbles, probably referring to his relapse last night. And immediately, all of my questions begin to bombard me again. Zayn looks surprised. "She was here last night, I called her, so it's fine." Harry clarifies for Zayn's confusion.
"As I was saying. . ." Zayn trails his words off. "You fucking moron." He barks, a small smile creeping onto my lips as Zayn shoves Harry but in a more friendly way, but I somehow know he's being serious.
"Shut the fuck up, I know." Harry snaps. I watch as Zayn grabs out a cigarette from his own pack, lighting it while Harry simply opens the sliding door.
"You want a smoke?" Zayn asks me, holding the pack out towards me. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, Harry shoving Zayn's pack of smokes away from me.
"Don't offer her that shit, she doesn't need it." Harry hisses, but proceeds to grab himself a cigarette. I would've said no regardless, but the way Harry constantly smokes them, I can't help but wonder what they taste like.
I shiver from the gusts of wind that make their way through the open door, Harry noticing as he takes a drag from his cigarette before he sets it down on the edge of the ash tray. He proceeds to tug his hoodie off and hands it to me, leaving him shirtless.
My eyes are immediately trained to his toned torso that is inked in multiple different places. He never sleeps with his shirt off and seems to always keep one on, now I assume it's because of the marks on his arms from the needles.
"God I am such a bitch for new relationships, I wish Tiff still checked me out like that." Zayn sighs, I tear my eyes away from Harry's body, my cheeks feeling warm with embarrassment as I roll my lips into my mouth. Harry sends a small smirk my way as he takes another drag from his cigarette, looking incredibly sexy as he does it. Which I'm sure he knows.
"You're such a pussy." Harry speaks playfully, still smirking as Zayn rolls his eyes and flicks him off. New relationships. Harry and I have gotten multiple comments like that and we never address them, but I kind of wish we did.
"I'm sure she does." I tell Zayn who just shakes his head. He's good looking, very good looking. If I was his girlfriend I wouldn't get tired of looking at him. But I like to look at Harry.
"I'm serious man, next time you feel like that you need to call me." Zayn changes the subject back on Harry, who simply rolls his eyes. "If I don't answer call Clover or Tiff, vice versa."
"I know, I know." Harry mutters. I frown, playing with the strings of Harry's hoodie as he moves to close the sliding door, both of their cigarettes are put out in the ash tray. "I already know how to handle this." He states.
I glance over at Zayn, wondering why he's so persistent that Harry's gets back on track. Obviously it's a good thing that Harry has someone like Zayn in his life, but I just don't understand why. He must not be just Harry's tattoo artist, maybe they're better friends than I thought.
"Good." Zayn states. "Tiffs birthday party is this Friday, she wants you two to be there." He changes the subject again and I can tell Harry is thankful for the attention to be off of him. She was born on New Year's Eve?
"Where is it?" Harry asks. I find myself becoming excited, usually I don't go to things like this, so it'll be fun.
"Pyramid." Zayn answers as he stands from the couch, grabbing his cigarettes from the table and shoving them in the pocket of his jacket. "Starts at eight."
"We'll be there." Harry tells him. Zayn nods and we shared brief goodbyes before he's gone again, Harry moving to sit beside me, leaning over and pressing a firm kiss to my lips.
"Harry." I mumble, pulling away causing him to furrow his eyebrows. "I can't go to Tiffs, I'm not twenty one." I tell him. And neither is he. Harry simply shakes his head.
"You don't have to worry about that." He tells me. I sigh and stare at him for a moment, enjoying the fact that he trusts me enough to have his shirt off. The marks aren't just on his arms, their on his wrists too. They look painful.
"I'm really glad you have someone like Zayn in your life, Harry. He seems to care about you a lot." I mumble, Harry nodding his head.
"He's my sponsor." He tells me causing my eyes to slightly widen. Zayn had been an addict at one point too? "He was addicted to cocaine at birth and didn't get fully sober until he was fourteen." Harry explains causing my heart to ache.
"That is horrible, he's okay now isn't he?" I ask, Harry nodding his head. "So how does he smoke weed? I saw the bongs at his place." I clarify.
"Same reason I smoke cigarettes, it's a distraction from the actual drug you're addicted to. You can't get addicted to weed and he doesn't smoke it that much to rely on the high it gives him." He answers easily, my eyes widening slightly. "And he hasn't ever relapsed so it's unlikely for him to after so many years of being sober." He continues.
"So he knows a lot about addiction." I observe, Harry nodding his head as he reaches out and gently plays with a few strands of my hair, the gesture making my stomach twist.
"I better go, I have to unpack." I tell him, watching him frown. I grin and stand from the couch, stretching my back out and turning to look at him as he pouts up at me. "Stop it." I laugh, leaning down to kiss him briefly before he follows me to the door. "Call me if you need me, I mean it." I tell him firmly.
"I will." He drags, leaning in and kissing me again, his soft lips caressing my own for a moment longer than I expected before he pulls away, kissing my cheek. "Drive safe, sweetheart." He mumbles against my skin. I smile and nod, turning away and walking off to the elevator.
—
Happy update lovies, here's another one for you! It snowed so much where I live and I absolutely love Christmas, so I'm in the holiday spirit!
Don't forget to vote and comment, I like to read them they keep me motivated!
Much love
~C