Harry || h.s.

3.6- Harry

sam fell asleep against me, breathing softly as her fever was burning through her. Rosie sat next to us, her laptop open as she caught up on work. I laid there on the bed, my hand resting steadily on sam back as slept. I watched Rosie as she worked, fingers typing fast on her computer before she got up to make breakfast. 

it was so strange to be so sad and so complete all at once. to lay here with eh sun coming in through Rosie's curtains, her humming in the kitchen as the smell of coffee followed it. the warmth of her still next to me pressed into the sheets, as sams messy curls moved with every exhale I made, that green apple smell of the shampoo Rosie used in sams hair flooding my senses. and yet I felt a pain pressed into my chest, a ball of anger at myself, twisting and turning, showing every face it held, reflecting my past mistakes over and over. 

confessing to Rosie again and again that I'm sorry didn't make me feel any better. I knew who I had to apologize to but knew I'd be pushed away. I knew it was better to show my actions more than just to say words but I didn't know what he wanted from me. in the time I had left I had lost one of my strongest connections. Fletcher was one of the only people who truly knew me, from the moment I barged into his world, setting his life off-kilter with my existence. and yet we had overcome that. 

I knew nothing about him now only that he hated me for what I had done. and that he had gotten married and had his own child. something I never imagined him doing at all. and I hadn't even known about his newborn just like I hadn't known about sam. 

my hand was pressed into my eye, the heel of my palm finding comfort in the divot of my skull, pressed there as I tried so hard to think of what to say to him, how to get him to talk to me. I hadn't even heard Rosie come in.

"Are you getting a headache? I can get you some Advil," she says next to the nightstand placing a mug down onto a coaster. 

"no no I'm good," I mutter, she has dressed again in an oversized t-shirt, shorts hidden underneath as she padded around on the hardwood with her ankle socks. short hair curling slightly around her collar, framing her round cheeks as she leaned a knee on the bed brushing back sams hair from her forehead lightly. 

"she's gotta get something in her stomach but she might fuss," Rosie sighs looking at me she smiles, that soft dimple forming on her cheek slightly. "I made you coffee and I heated up some muffins I had made a few days ago," 

"thank you," I smile raising a hand to push back the hair from her face. she gives a light laugh before she pulls away hand falling to rub on sams back trying to wake her up without making her too upset. 

sam whines pushing her face into my chest, small hand making an even smaller fist into my t-shirt. "come on love I know you must be hungry, even a little bit hungry," Rosie coos and sam rolls over so she can look up at Rosie. raising her arms so that Rosie can take her. 

I sit up as Rosie takes sam into her arms. watch as sams face finds its home in the crook of Rosie's neck, arms wrapped around her neck to shield herself from the light. how Rosie carries her with her arms finding its place of remembrance, this position not in any way unnatural to her, done a million times over. 

every time you feel that pang in your heart you know it's the same reason why fletcher hates you now. 

I felt my jaw tighten at my own thoughts, I was always my worst enemy. and I wanted to stew on that thought when Rosie turned around in the doorway looking at me with a tilt to her head. as if she had said it a million times over, "aren't you coming?" inviting into the life I had always wanted with her, inviting me with forgiving arms and I didn't deserve it just like fletcher had said.