Lost Within Myself

3

Harry managed to pulled through. Miraculously, he did. His energy had massively depleted, nothing compared to what it was earlier, but if the boys noticed they didn't say anything.

And for that, Harry was thankful. He didn't think he could handle anymore criticism for the rest of the day.

Going out for dinner was exchanged for a homecooked meal. Jj's reasoning behind that sudden change was that everyone needed something relatively healthy for a change and that they'd go out for dinner some other time that week. Some of the boys protested at first, but after receiving a warning look from Jj they were quick to comply.

Harry wasn't stupid. And Jj was very smart. The younger boy knew that Jj recognised the glazed over look in Harry's eyes. He knew Harry was more effected by the phone call with his brother than he let on.

***

When they, finally, arrived home, Harry sent Jj a thankful smile and disappeared into his room. He threw himself on his bed, pulling his phone out of his pocket and looking up his mothers' phone number.

But as soon as he was about to press the call button, he halted.

Don't bother contacting them. I'm sure they won't be too interested in talking to you for a while.

The ache in the pit of his stomach returned and Harry put his bottom lip between his teeth in frustration. He wanted to call his mum and explain. Apologise.

He couldn't just... not show up.

But what if she was angry? What if she'd scream at him. He didn't want his mum to be upset with him. He loved his mum.

Apparently not enough to remember the promise you made to her.

Harry shook his head and pushed the thought away. No, he had to apologise to her. She should hear his side of the story, not just his brother's.

With his sudden new found determination, he pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear.

It rung. It rung a few times more. And more.

Voicemail.

His mum always picked up the phone.

Harry placed his phone next to him and closed his eyes, attempting to loosen up his tight muscles by taking a few deep breaths. She was probably just eating dinner. Or still at work. Or busy planning the last things for her wedding anniversary.

The one Harry wouldn't be attending.

Guilt bubbled through his body. What kind of son forgets something so important to his own mother?

A bad one.

But before Harry could spiral down the rabbit hole of negativity again, the door opened. A familiar head peaked around the corner and Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Hey." He mumbled. Simon smiled back and walked in, closing the door behind him and making his way to the younger's bed.

"Move," Simon practically ordered. Harry rolled to his side and scooted backwards until his back hit the wall. Simon lied down, facing Harry. He looked worried for some reason.

"What's up?"

"What's up with you, Hazza?"

Realistically, Harry should've known. Simon had always had the magical ability to look straight through all of Harry's defences. Pretending in front of Simon was no option for him. In some way, Simon knew. He always knew.

"You know, it's really fucking annoying how you always know when something's up," Harry jokingly complained. Even though, deep down, he did mean it.

Simon mirrored Harry's teasing grin with one of his own. "Ah, what can I say. Must be the fact that our souls are connected."

"Soulmates," Harry agreed. He couldn't help the warm feeling that rushed through his entire body. That's what they always said -soulmates. Harry was convinced he and Simon were made for each other. Their personalities, everything about them, matched too perfectly for it to be a coincidence.

He and Simon had been playing near the line that separated friendship and lovers for over a year now. Pulling and tugging each other back and forth until one of them almost crossed the line, only to be pulled back by the other.

Harry would lean in for the kiss and Simon would turn his head last minute, causing the younger's lips to land on his cheek.

Simon's hands would travel a bit too high on Harry's thighs, only for the younger to move his legs away with a teasing giggle.

A special bond. Soulmates.

"Hazza? Come back to me."

Simon's impatient voice pulled Harry out of his head. He smiled apologetically and shuffled closer, allowing Simon to wrap an arm around his waist.

"He's just.. he's my brother, you know?"

Simon hummed. "He's an asshole."

Harry let out a soft laugh and gave Simon's shoulder a playful punch.

Simon laughed as well. "It's true! I can't imagine him saying anything nice to you in person, let alone on the phone."

Harry bit his lip and reluctantly shook his head. "He didn't. But it's fine, I'm used to it."

"That's not-"

"Mate," Harry lifted his head to look Simon in the eyes, interrupting his protest. "It wasn't anything interesting, really. And anyway, I don't want to talk about it."

Simon frowned and let his eyes wander around Harry's face for a minute, as if making sure that the younger boy was telling the truth.

He wasn't. But he knew that Simon would let it go, only because Harry asked him to.

"Fine. But I want to cuddle. So that's what we're going to do until dinner is ready," Simon decided. Without waiting for Harry's answer, he roughly pulled the boy closer to his body and threw a thin leg over Harry's heavier ones. Harry let it all happen. He knew protesting wouldn't do anything, anyway.

Lying there, warm and safe in Simon's arms, Harry felt the exhaustion take over again. Somewhere above his ears he could feel the inevitable headache he always got after a panic attack begin to form.

He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep.

And with Simon's long, thin, gentle fingers brushing through his hair, he was able to.