The Me You Can't See (H.S)

61

Haven's POV:

My hair is pulled back high in a slick ponytail and my eyes are darkened with the smokey shadow that coats my lids. I'd just gotten off the phone with Zayn and I needed to tip my head back several times to keep the tears of relief from falling.

I will never get over how easily I cry now. I spent years wondering why they wouldn't come and now I wonder why they are.

But the more I think about it the more I realize that maybe I cry because there's a purpose to my tears. People argue whether a tree has really fallen if no one is there to hear it, so I counter you the same. Is there a point in crying if no one is there to help you through it? Sure, crying is a natural thing but I think I went so long without doing it because for me crying is my way of asking for help.

It's not an expression of immense sadness, well it is. But more than that it's all the inexpressible pain I can't quite put into words. It's my way of asking someone, anyone to take away the pain.

Before Harry there wasn't anyone there to do it, so crying wasn't needed. But now there is and I realize that my burdens are not always meant to be carried alone.

We're getting ready for dinner since Harry insisted we go out, so here I am shimmying my way into an old but gorgeous dress of mine. He'd told me to pack something nice and that's exactly what I did.

It is the most expensive dress I own and was gifted to me by Zayn on my 23rd birthday a couple of years ago. With long sleeves and a neckline that overlaps onto itself, the dark blue pattern hugs my hips. The dress is shorts and stops at the middle of my thigh meaning that I needed to pair thigh-high heels to keep me from freezing my ass off.

The dress is quite a bit tighter than I remember, but I'm not as small as I was when I was 23. Reaching behind, I struggle to zip up the dress and my arms begin to grow tired from tugging.

That's when I feel hands push mine away in replace of their own. Harry's fingers fiddle with the zipper and I feel him pull just a bit tighter until the dress zips up all the way.

My head hangs low, slightly embarrassed that he's seen me struggling to fit into a dress. "I'm not quite the same size I was a couple of years ago." I joke, my neck beginning to warm.

He wraps his arms around my body and lays his head on the crook of my left shoulder. "You look amazing and who the fuck cares, that just means there's more of you to love." he whispers, pressing kisses to the skin of my neck.

I squeeze his arm in appreciation swooning at the way he always knows what to say. Turning my head, my lips touch his and I'm quick to slip my tongue in, gripping his hair between my fingers.

The kiss is quick and deep and I'm left dazed the minute his lips leave mine. Pulling out of his grasp I adjust the dress, pulling it down and I go to thank him but when I turn around I'm left speechless.

He wears a navy blue suit similar to the colour of my dress, with no tie and the top couple buttons of his white shirt undone. His gold banana necklace hangs from his neck and I smile remembering that he has yet to take it off since I gave it to him. In the same way, I haven't taken mine off.

He looks breathtaking. His hair is messed in the way I like, a lone curl dropping down to his forehead and he smells even better than he usually does. The scent of a fresh shower mixed with his cologne, creating a scent so perfect I wish I could commit it to memory forever.

Looking at him, Harry's eyes seem to be even more green and I can feel myself getting lost in them. You are the sexiest man I have ever seen. I think to myself.