Fix a heart (h.s.) ✔

Fight and Smoke

Harry's P.O.V.

"We need to talk.", I said after puffing out the calming smoke.
"About?", her sweet, seemingly fragile voice asked, her hands shivering, thanks to the cold surrounding us.
"Us?", I questioned, not being sure about my own words.
"Is there such thing? Us, I mean?", Luna asked, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
"I surely believe so. I mean, we kissed after all."
"Yeah, but does that make us anything?", her voice sounded uncertain.

She didn't think we were anything?
Did she feel anything when we kissed?
Did she think about me the same way I thought about her?

"Oh, no. You're right! 'Cause people just kiss when they don't feel anything!", I shouted.
If my father hadn't been a complete ass back there I surely wouldn't have overreacted like that, but right now I just couldn't help myself.
"No, that's not what I meant!", she shouted, trying to grab my hand but I flinched away, standing up.
"Oh, yeah sure! You just thought to have a bit of fun with me and just use me!", god why am I so dramatic?
"Harry, if you didn't already know, you're getting married! You can't just walk around and kiss some random girl when you are fucking engaged!", she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.
"But you're not some random girl!", I bit back.
"Then what? Am I the girl of your dreams? Your future wife? Safe it Harry because I know I'm not and I know you don't think that way!", she turned and stormed off.
"Luna wait!", I tried, but she was inside already.

Luna's P.O.V.

I stormed inside, quickly grabbing my bag that was resting on a chair in the living room.
I wanted to leave as fast as possible, but clumsily tripped over my own feet, stumbling against a drawer, several photographs resting on top of it.
I barely managed to catch a white frame, preventing the crash that would have been sure to come.

The picture, that was resting in the frame, was one of three people.
There was a man, lying on his back in the snow, grinning up at the camera.
On both of his sides were children, on his left a girl, her light brown hair fanning out around her, contrasting to the snow. Her bright pink scarf covered her mouth but it was clear she was smiling through her chocolate eyes.
Gemma.

On his right a little boy, probably around 5, sparkling eyes starring intently at the man, mouth slightly agape, seemingly admiring him. The little boy had a glint in his emerald eyes that was unmistakable.
Harry.

I barely recognized the man in the middle though. I knew the features but the personality was entirely different. The sparkling happiness in his brown eyes was a heavy contrast to the icy hardness they held now. His carefree and happy smile now replaced by a deep frown.
Harry's father.

"I took that picture on Christmas day 1999.", I heard a sweet voice say from behind me and a soft hand on my shoulder.

I quickly turned, meeting a pair of warm, caring eyes.

"Take a seat, darling.", Anne said, gesturing to the black couch.
I carefully sunk onto the cushion, letting my bag rest beside my feet.
"I heard your fighting. Care to explain what happened?", she questioned carefully.
"It's just that, well you know we were kissing, right? I didn't think he would actually take it serious. I thought I was just some kind of distraction so I didn't let my hopes up, since he's getting married. I thought he wouldn't care. So he asked me to talk about us and I said there wasn't anything like us and then he was so angry and started shouting that I was just using him and that angered me and I started shouting so...", I rambled, Anne finally cutting me off.
"So you fought. Okay, my son is a wonderful person, really caring, sweet and gentle, but he's got a really bad temper. A trait from his father by the way. You can't take him serious when he's angry so don't think too much of it okay? It'll be fine.", she reassured, smiling gently.

I thanked her and she handed me the picture I just safed from breaking.

"Go up to his room, wait and ask him about this day. It will help, you'll see.", so I did.
I was halfway up the stairs when I heard a door slam, making me jump. Looking down, I saw Harry's father, his cheeks slightly red and his eyes still cold and dark. "How are you, honey?", I heard Harry's mother ask. The man sighed, shrugging off his coat, heading into the living room.
At the same time, the glass doors to the garden opened, Harry stalking inside and I pressed my body against the wall, hoping not to be seen by any of the family members. The tall lad hung up his coat, halting when he walked past the living room.
"Come here Harry, would you?", his father said somewhat gently. I took the opportunity to quickly walk up the stairs, opening the door to Harry's room, carefully sitting down on the soft bed, picture thightly grasped in my hands.
I looked down at it, thinking about what could've happened, to make such a carefree smile transform into a deep frown.

When I heard footsteps along the hall, I sat up straight, preparing myself for confrontation.

"What are you doing in my room?"

A/N: I know it's short! Sorry! Next one will be longer! Promise. I hope everyone's doing okay.

All the love, Mel x.