Silence

9

Screaming. Footsteps. Getting closer. Silence. Fear.
"Harry! Wake up!"

I know that voice. I open my eyes. Stop screaming. Blue eyes meet mine. Concerned. He pulls me in. I lay my head on his chest. He holds me. I'm sweaty.
"You had a bad dream. You're okay." He says. Runs his fingers through my hair. Comforts me. It's intimate. I calm down. His chest hair tickles my skin. I don't move away.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asks quietly.

No. Maybe.
"I dream about that night when my family died." I sign.

He hugs me closer.
"Do you dream about that often?"

I nod my head.
"That's awful."

It is. I remember every horrible moment of that night. I tell him about it. It just pours out of me. A silent confession. My eyes tear up. I look up at him. He also has tears in his eyes.
"Thank you for telling me. Who was it? The man who broke into your home?"

"Someone who had escaped from a mental institution. Psychopath. Crazy. He killed his family as a teen. They lived in our house. We didn't know that. He found his way back. Thought he killed them again. At least that was what he said when they caught him." I explain. My hands are trembling as I sign.

"I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry, Harry." He says compassionately.

"Yeah." I sign. Sigh.

"How did you survive?" He asks.

"I hid in my closet. He came into my room. I heard his footsteps. He was searching for me. The police came just as he approached my closet. My mum had managed to call them before she died. I could see his shadow. I thought I was about to die. I should have. I'm alone now." I sign. A tear rolls down my cheek.

He wraps his arms around me. Rocks me back and forth. Kisses my head.
"You're not alone. I'm happy you're alive and it's not your fault. Do you hear me? There's nothing you could have done to save your family. It's an awful, horrible thing that happened to them but don't feel guilty for surviving."

I lose it. Starts to sob uncontrollably. I've been told the same thing many times by various psychologists. Somehow it hits home, coming from him. He comforts me. He's not backing off. He's not uncomfortable with my burst of emotions. He's there for me. I love him.

I must have fallen asleep somewhere after my sobs calmed down to an occasional sniff. When I wake up I'm still laying in his arms. I feel a little embarrassed and look up to see if he's awake. Blue eyes meet mine. He smiles. I smile back. His eyes flicker to my lips. I hold my breath. He looks away. I roll off him. Sign a shy good morning.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?" He asks.

I think about it. Sign.
"Good. Light."

That sounds stupid but he nods his head as if it makes sense.
"I'm glad. You shouldn't keep all that bottled up inside. Have you seen a therapist? It could help. I saw one after me mum and sister passed away."

I snort.
"I've seen hundreds." I exaggerate.

He chuckles.
"Alright."

I hesitate. I don't know how to form the things I want to say. My hands are just hanging in the air.
"Thank you. For listening. For being there. I usually don't break down like that. Not anymore. And I know that it's weird that I don't talk." I bit my lower lip.

His face softens.
"Hey! None of that. I'm glad I could be there for you and you do talk. With your hands. Your eyes."

"But I'm mute." I sign.

"You're not. Yeah, okay, you don't talk but you laugh. You giggle. Snort. Scream. You make all kinds of sounds." He smiles.

I think about it. He's right. I'm not completely silent nowadays. Thanks to him. He's on his way out of bed. I look at him with questions in my eyes.
"I'm sorry but I really have to pee. My bladder is on the verge of bursting. I'm guessing you don't want me to wet the bed?" He smirks.

I giggle and shake my head. He hurries off to the bathroom. I glance at him as he leaves the room. He's only wearing boxers. It's a lovely sight.

When he returns I get up to go to the bathroom. I feel exposed in my boxers and hurry out of the room. I take a wee and brush my teeth before I return. Louis looks up from his phone, giving me a quick once over. My face heats up. I hurry to get under the covers.
"Niall texted me. He's going to the movies at noon with Liam and Zayn and is wondering if we want to join them?"

"Sure." I agree.

"Alright." He smiles and texts a reply before he puts the phone on the nightstand. He turns to his side so he can look at me.

We talk for a while. I offer him a shower and some clothes. He gladly accepts. After taking turns in the shower we eat breakfast and slack in front of the tv until it's time to meet up with the boys.

They're already waiting in front of the cinema. Niall takes a step forward and starts to sign.
"Hi, Larry. How are you?"

I giggle. I sign back.
"I'm fine. How are you?"

"What's so funny?" Niall asks.

"You called him Larry. Otherwise, you did great, lad." Louis grins.

"Oh, well, maybe I was greeting both of you? You know, Louis and Harry. Larry!" Niall grins.

I shake my head in amusement. It's really sweet of Niall that he spent the day trying to learn sign language just so he could greet me on my terms. I give him a hug before we walk inside to pay for our tickets. The movie is great. The best thing about it is that I'm next to Louis and he leans in once in a while to make small comments.