hiraeth ; harry lewis

xiii. you can sleep with me if you want

Harry felt a small, fond smile forming on his lips as he watched Val's breathing gradually even out. Curled up on the sofa, knees bent and arms held close to her chest, mouth slightly open, she looked calm and at peace. He remained there for a while, leaning against the tall side of the sofa, letting the fog ease from his mind and watching her sleep.

How much time passed, he didn't know, but he was broken out of his reverie by a light punch landing on his shoulder, making him startle and turn around. "Stop making eyes at my best friend," Florence huffed, folding her arms together again.

"Wasn't making eyes," he muttered, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Sure," she drawled. "I'm not blind, you know." Her gaze turned to Val, lips pursed as she glanced at the time on her phone. "We were meant to be leaving soon, the idiot."

He scratched his chest, looking at the sleeping girl. "I, uh, if you want," he started, tripping over his words as usual, "she can, um, stay here. I don't - I mean, we won't mind." Val looked so content, and he didn't want to have to wake her up when she could just spend the night and go home well-rested the next day.

Florence didn't seem relieved at the suggestion. Instead, her eyes darkened. It almost made him want to take a step back. "Are you sure?" It was an innocent question, but the aura of warning she was projecting told a different story.

"Yeah, of course," he said, holding his ground. The two of them weren't close by any means, but Harry hoped she knew him well enough to trust him with the safety of her best friend.

She stared at him for a few heart-stopping moments before relaxing her stance. "Alright," she said. He let out the deep breath he had been holding, sweeping his hair off his forehead. It felt like he had passed some sort of test.

Florence approached the sofa, dropping to her knees and stroking Val's messy hair. "Sweet dreams," she whispered, so low he had to strain to hear her. She dropped a light kiss on the other girl's forehead and stood up, brushing off her black coat dress.

Val hadn't told him much of their friendship, only that they had met in university and had been extremely close ever since. "Flo's like my sister, but even more," she had said, smiling at the mention of her name. "She's been with me through everything. We're each other's rocks." Now, watching Florence look at Val with such loving protectiveness, he understood.

"She's safe with me," he said, giving her a firm jerk of his head. "I swear it."

Her lips twitched into a half-smile. "I trust you," she replied. It was the highest praise he could have gotten from her. "Happy birthday, Harry. Don't mess this up."

His eyebrows shot up, but he nodded, flashing a hesitant thumbs-up. "Okay," he said, the confusion clear as day on his face. "Goodnight, Florence."

"Goodnight," she said, casting one last look at Val before turning and walking to the door, gently closing it behind her.

Glancing around the rest of the flat, he saw that all of the other guests had also departed without him noticing. He was tired, but not too tired, so he busied himself with cleaning up some of the mess left behind, throwing empty bottles and red plastic cups into the bin and sweeping the floor.

A low creak made him pause as Cal walked out of his bedroom, rubbing his bleary eyes and letting out a wide yawn. He stumbled over to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and yanking the tap on. It took him a while to notice Harry's presence; when he did, he jumped backward, spilling a few droplets of liquid on the counter. "Bog?" he whispered. "What are you doing?"

"I'm about to sleep," he replied, ruffling his hair. "Just thought I'd sort out the state of the place." He jerked his head towards the sofa, where Val was still laying. "Didn't want Val waking up to that."