Dear Iris [h.s]

chapter forty seven.

Iris Grace

Harry makes my heart feel funny.

It's fair to say I had the absolute worst start to the day ever, that was one of the worst panic attacks I've ever had. Then Harry showed up and I don't think I've ever been so happy to see a man before.

He tidied up the mess I made without giving it a second thought and by the time I had calmed down, he was just sitting there waiting for me to join him. There wasn't much conversation, I was absolutely exhausted because I always seem to forget just how draining panic attacks are.

He had a book with him which he read as I lay there on his chest. It meant a lot to me, knowing that he cares enough to stay. I was so worried about him seeing me like that, worried he'd think of me differently, yet at the same time, he was the only person that I wanted to see at that moment in time.

Lying here with him, I felt at peace, much better than I did when I was sat on the floor struggling to breathe with tears rolling down my face. For once in my life, I don't feel like my own sadness is burdening somebody. Harry makes me feel like he understands, and I'm grateful for that.

Rain began to pour outside, which caught us both off guard. It doesn't usually rain in summer. Harry shut his book and looked outside, I just lifted my head to see that it was raining, until I realised I have two paintings outside.

"Shit," I said, jumping off of Harry and rushing to the door to pull my paintings back inside.

Thankfully the air didn't get them yet, so I pulled them inside and just leaned them against the wall. Harry was sitting there with a smile on his face and a look of confusion at the same time.

"I've never seen somebody move so fast." He buckled, standing up from the couch to stretch his arms above his head.

He wandered over to my window, pushed open the boards and leaned against the ledge, staring out at the rain which was thundering down like this was the middle of November. Light in a cigarette, he looked like he was at peace before turning to old n arm out, inviting me to join him.

I did. I stood there under his arm, sharing a cigarette with him feeling nothing but warm despite the fact it was chucking it down outside. Warm is a feeling I often feel around him, he just radiates it.

"Fancy a walk?" He said, clearing his throat before tapping his cigarette to get rid of the debris.

"What?" I asked, looking at him confused.

"A walk." He laughed, "In the rain."

"What?" I repeated, still confused but laughing a little now. "Where?"

"I don't know," He shrugged, "We can walk to mine or something...let's go."

He put his cigarette out on my makeshift ashtray, shut the window and grabbed my hand. I looked at him like he was crazy, tried to protest considering I was wearing sandals and a pair of cotton dungarees, not very suited to go and walk around outside in this current weather.

I did try and pull back, but Harry looked at me with a smile, pretending my protest was nonexistent and chuckling away to himself. He stopped at the door, made sure he didn't have any pens in his pockets as well as chucking the world's smaller notepad out his pocket onto my table. Then he grabbed my hand again, opening the door to the grey skies and heavy rain pouring down onto the cobblestones outside my doorway.

With a deep breath, he chuckled a little and just tugged me out behind him, making sure my door closed behind us as the rain hit our skin, shaking our clothes and hair within just seconds.