hating me for loving you {h.s}

Chapter 11.

A/N:

So I was planning to do something else with this chapter, but I decided to separate into two chapters.

Enjoy Phoebe and Harry content, also what should their ship name be?

*HARRY'S POV*

She made me my favorite for dinner. She always does, but now it seems as if it has a bigger meaning.

I don't know why, it just does.

The taco meat smells and tastes better.

The lettuce just seems to be more healthy.

The cheese tastes more tasty.

And she feels more like home.

P has always been my home, but it's amplified, like the home inside her heart grew ten more times, leaving extra room for me with the already existing room. And I've never been more thankful.

Thankful for the room she's given me in her mind and heart, the pain she's relieved just for me, the food she's cooked just for my stomach to survive. The books she recommends me to read, god, they're so beautiful. Thankful for her letting me take more pride and joy in nature, the little things like colors and textures.

  Everything. She makes me more thankful for everything, her too.

I've never met someone who I'm this invested and interested in, she's not just the definition of a quick fuck to me.

Phoebe isn't even a definition to me, she's just... her. It's a silly and corny thing to say, but it's not a lie. I'm not lying when I say how much I appreciate her, how meaningful her presence is to me.

If I wouldn't have come that day, January 23rd, in 8th grade, she could be gone. She could not be here right now, and that's the scariest fucking thing in the world. Losing her would mean I would lose my mind, I'd go insane and I'm not ready for that day.

I hope that day doesn't come, but no one stays forever. That's what I've always been taught, but Phoebe's just... she's different.

Even just thinking about her leaving in any shape, way, or form makes me want to crawl into a ball and die.

But she's promised forever, and we don't break promises, us two. We don't, we never have.

I try to act so strong for her, for everyone. But in reality, I'm everything but.

At least that's what my dad always used to say.

"How do they taste?" P asked before taking a bite of her own hard shell taco, knowing we both hate soft shells.

"Fantastic." I said muffled, covering my mouth as I talked, taking another bit right after the last.

We've never eaten this late, it's 8:30pm, we stayed at the beach all day, it was the best night here so far, besides karaoke.

  P and I finished eating by ourselves, everyone else ordered stuff while on the beach so we didn't make them any. More for ourselves.

I know we were both exhausted, so I insisted that I give P a good night of relaxation. Also, I notice she's been super anxious lately, and I wanna help. I don't know if there is a right way to help, but I'm gonna try in ways I know how.

Walking to the door of my room, I knock just in case she's changing or anything. After knocking, she answered the door, PJ's on and all.

She's the most beautiful fucking human I've ever seen. Everything has led me back to this beautiful human. I'm so humbled that I get to come home to her everyday, no matter where we are in the world, whether it be FaceTime or face to face, she's home and forever will be.