Even If It Hurts -H.S. AU

48

I wake up to soft snores in my ear, but I don't open my eyes at the light pouring in the windows. I smile to myself and slide my hands over Harry's arm still wrapped around me. I try to will myself back to sleep. Laying here in his warmth is the most comfortable I think I've ever been.

When the annoying urge to use the restroom persists, I groan internally and hesitantly try to blink my eyes open. The room slowly comes into focus and I jump at the sight, forgetting where we were when we fell asleep last night.

"Violet-" Harry startles awake from my sudden movement, his voice thick with sleep, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing, baby." I giggle softly and turn around on the bed to face him. "I'm sorry, I just forgot we were in this house, and it caught me off guard."

"Mmm." He hums, still half asleep and tightens his arm around me, trapping me against him.

"Off." I giggle and push against his chest. "I have to get up."

He groans in protest, but releases his hold on me and I slide out of bed. I open the top dresser drawer and blindly grab the first thing my hand lands on. I'm relieved that there's still clothes in it, since I'm completely naked and neither of us brought our bags in here with us. I throw the shirt over my head and tip toe across the floor to use the bathroom. When I turn the sink on to wash my hands, I do a double take at myself in the mirror.

I'm wearing one of Harry's old band T-shirts. The Rolling Stones logo stares back at me as I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is a wild mess on my head, a side effect of letting it air dry and Harry running his fingers through it as we watched our favorite movie. My makeup didn't come off all the way in the shower, the eyeliner leaving a smudged ring around my eyes and my face is flushed from the heat of Harry in bed next to me.

I look like me again.

Waking up next to Harry in this bed after a night of arguing, genuine conversation and falling asleep together, is the most myself I've felt in a long fucking time. Tears well in my eyes as I stare at myself in the mirror, analyzing every part of me that I've tried to cover up for the last five years.

I pull open the top drawer and find one of my hair clips and smile to myself. I twist my hair up on my head to secure it in place and wipe some of yesterday's makeup from under my eyes. I tuck my hair behind my ear on one side, revealing the scar on my forehead that I usually cover with a pound of concealer.

I step back from the counter to get a full view of myself- hair tied up, messy makeup on my face and Harry's T-shirt hanging down to my thighs.
I've missed the girl I see in the mirror.

I turn off the light and step back out into the bedroom. I pull open the next drawer down and I'm happy to find an old pair of jean shorts folded right at the top. I pull them out and I'm about to see if they fit, when I feel someone watching me. I turn my head to find Harry sprawled out on the bed, his head rolled in my direction with his eyes open, and a sleepy smile on his face.

"What?" I exhale a surprised laugh and he props himself up on the bed.

"There's my baby." He whispers and my stomach flips at the look of pure love on his face.

"Don't get mushy on me this morning, Harry." I grumble and he smiles at me, a dimple popping in his cheek. "But I want to take these shirts home with us." I tell him firmly and he nods his head.

I slip my feet in my old shorts and slowly pull them up my legs. I make a face when I have to jump to get them over my hips and Harry bites his lip to hold back a chuckle.

"They're a little tight." I mutter when I'm able to get the button clasped. "I guess nineteen year old Violet and twenty-four year old Violet are a little more different than I thought."