Blacklist [h.s]

twenty one

Grace

I squint my eyes at the blinding sunlight shining through the motel curtains, groan quietly to myself and pull the comforter up over my face. I realize Harry is in the bed next to me when the blanket tugs at the weight of his leg. He lets out a sleepy huff and twitches his leg before hauling it over mine. I glance back at him to see him dead asleep, curly hair a mess atop his head underneath the blanket, his lips lightly parted as small puffs of air push the sheet up. I take a deep breath and quietly sit up half way, squinting at the sliver of light shining directly in my eyes again. Before I can move, Harry rolls over on his side, hauls his arm right over me and pins me down to the bed in his haphazard sleepiness.

My head hits the pillow with a gentle thud and I laugh quietly to myself at the stupidness of feeling butterflies in my stomach. His embrace is warm and for a minute I think about pressing my body into his and enjoying the comfort for a few seconds, but I don't. Instead I let him lay on me like a lumpy body pillow until my leg begins to throb form the weight.

It's been a long time since I've felt safe in someone's arm so I soak it in. Even if I'm laying uncomfortably still on my back staring at the speckled ceiling, I forget about the problems that loom outside the dingy motel door.

I close my eyes and just as I'm about to fall asleep, Harry shifts off his stomach and onto his side, tucking his arm underneath the pillow beneath his head and pulls me so close that I swear I can feel his heart beating in his chest. Or maybe that's mine, I don't know.

I'm so close I can feel his breath on my neck and the warmth radiating from his chest. I ponder for a moment what it would be like to always feel this safe and comforted. For a moment I pretend like I'm someone else, wrapped in the comfort of their partner, on vacation, traveling the world, no criminal record, no criminal father. I imagine what it would be like to just be normal for once. I don't know when I drift off to sleep.
-

When I wake up, Harry is out of bed and dressed in a new pair of clothes.  I sit up and stretch for a moment, staring at him for a second until he looks at me. Today he's sporting Gucci floral pants and a white button up. I don't know where he pulled the Gucci pants from because as far as I'm concerned, the closest Gucci store is at least three hundred miles away. I can't help but smile at the commitment to fashion and routine that Harry has.

I rub my eyes and open them to him staring at me. He doesn't mention this morning, if he even remembers  it. I wonder if he woke up with his arms wrapped around me and if he moved away in disgusted or lingered for a few moments. I push the thought into the back of my head when he places some clothes at the end of the bed and mumbles harshly. 

"Get dressed," he said flatly. "We have to be at the airport in thirty minutes."

"Then why didn't you wake me up sooner?" I ask.

His attitude is nothing different than normal, but it's starting to annoy me that he seems to not care about shit sometimes. 

"You were already awake this morning," he said as he grabs his jacket off the chair and closes the motel door behind him, leaving me with the clothes on the bed and a few confused thoughts.

-
The ride from the blacked out Yukon was silent. I kept thinking about what Harry said this morning. He knew I was awake so that means he was too. I must have woken him up at some point. I have no idea when or how.

He's sitting in the front seat next to the same man he was with last night, the same one who seen me crying. I'm more put together today, my hair is pulled back in a bun with a few loose pieces pulled out to frame my face. 

I'm also wearing an extremely comfortable emerald green floral jumpsuit that almost matches Harry's. I felt professional and it helped me feel not like a criminal.