The Degradation

We can do it

William Shakespeare wrote: "I am afraid of your fear." 

"Every time I close my eyes, I think Louis is whispering these words. I don't want to frighten him with my fears. No one should be afraid of them but me. These are my fears, not his. They must not destroy him as they destroyed me." – Harry

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Song: Thriving Ivory - Angels on the Moon

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I often imagined my first awakening next to Harry. To be honest, I imagined it every time I opened my eyes and he wasn't around. And each time, I imagined the perfect morning. The one that is shown in movies, and that everyone around dreams about. I would have opened my eyes and he would have been lying next to me, already awake, watching me sleep. I would have smiled at him before say a hoarse "Good morning" to him, and he would answer me in an even hoarser voice and kiss me. We'd have breakfast in each other's arms, and we wouldn't get out of bed for hours. Asshole would have eaten half of our croissants, and I would have been able to knock over my orange juice. He would have smiled and kissed me again. Yeah, I know it's the most stereotypical thing you can think of, but... that's how I always imagined our first morning. Happy. So, and nothing else.

But when has fate ever been interested in my wishes? Everything happened exactly the opposite. When I opened my eyes, he wasn't watching me sleep. No. When I opened my eyes and saw him, my heart didn't start beating hard with joy and happiness. Conversely. It broke as if it had only been a training session last night. The first thing I felt was pride. Really. He was with me. For the first time. But that feeling quickly disappeared when I realized he wasn't supposed to be here. This is wrong. It's fake. He didn't want this, he shouldn't be here. He was just too tired to leave before I woke up. It was as if sleep had forced him to stay. There were still traces of tears on his cheeks. Did he cry in his sleep? I wondered for a few seconds if he was really asleep, or if he just had his eyes closed. But no, he's asleep. He's curled up against me, breathing calm and steady. And it's hard to accept. Even in his sleep, he feels bad. Sleep is the only time when you cannot think about anything and just... sleep. But his features were too painful that it's hard to look at them. They reflected all his suffering as if the pain is his constant work, and he has no right to leave or to take a day off, or even to take a lunch break. I was afraid. I was in pain. And I realized it would be a mistake to stay. That this morning can't be ours, because he doesn't want to be here. Because if he could physically wake up and leave, he would. He sleeps in my arms, not because he wants it, but because he is in pain. Because he's not ready yet. He's just exhausted and couldn't wake up in time. I don't know what went through my head, but I panicked. I had a feeling that if I stayed and made him wake up next to me, it would be a betrayal.

Our first morning means even more to him than it does to me, and I don't want to ruin it. It means too much to us, and I don't want to remember this moment as the morning when he just didn't wake up in time to leave. No one has forgotten what happened last night, and I only need to look at him to know that the wounds haven't healed yet. That one night can't change everything. That would be too easy. 'I never want to see you again.' The words were still ringing in my head, and I was afraid. Yes, I'm a coward, but...I don't know what going on in his head, and if he wakes up and says it again, then...I just can't stand it. It hurt me to hear it the first time, and if he says it again now, I'll just die. I'm not strong enough to stand again the way he pushes me away. So much was mixed up in me, and I freaked out. I freaked out and left. I kissed him on the cheek, whispering into the void not to push me away. Then he got up and left a note on his pillow. So that he would notice it as soon as he woke up.