FLICKER (h.s. au)

13.

Thirteen

Emery Rivera

I've always been somewhat of a pessimist, and at times, some would say overly so. My mother used to tell me not to be too disappointed when things didn't work out as planned, reminding me that not everything would be handed to us on a silver platter. And in our case, nothing ever was. Because of that, I've lived my life with the expectation that all the good things I might become accustomed to could be snatched away from me at any moment.

I should've expected that with Harry.

Five days ago, I told Harry I was his. Five days ago, Harry told me that he was mine. All mine. Foolishly, I believed him. It took three weeks for Harry to have my heart. But it only took five days for Harry to hurt it. I should've known Harry would back track on his words.

The truth was, he wasn't completely mine. Even if he thought he could be, it simply wasn't true. Clearly. A part of him would always belong to someone else.

I should've known we would never work.

The plan Harry and I was simple. We just have to get through the two weeks without any hiccups. Be just enough lovey dovey to convince everyone that he was in fact in a relationship. Things weren't meant to get complicated, I wasn't meant to catch feelings. I was meant to keep everyone at arm's length, not too close, not too attached, Harry included.

I folded Luna's clothes, carefully placing them in the designated packing cubes scattered on the bed. The frown on my face remained constant as I zipped up each cube.

"Momma?" I glanced down at Luna, who sat on the floor with the "Pout Pout Fish" book in her hands. My heart sank as I laid eyes on that book—a book forever tainted, forever associated with the man who has hurt me so deeply.

"Just a moment, baby," I choked out, tossing her packing cubes into the suitcase.

Next was the mountain of clothes that belonged to me. I silently cursed myself for not being more organized with them. This process would have been easier and quicker if I hadn't simply tossed my clothes into a pile on the floor every day. I didn't care about folding them perfectly; I would stuff them all together if necessary. I just needed to get this over with.

"Momma, pwease!" Luna tapped on my foot once again, trying to get my attention. I sighed, lowering myself to the floor beside her.

"If you give me just 10 minutes, I promise I'll read it to you. How about you watch a little bit of Bluey, huh?" I tried to persuade her to give me a bit more time to finish packing. Luna eventually nodded, reaching out her hands for my phone. I pressed play on the next episode of Bluey and handed it to her, hoping it would keep her occupied for the next 10 to 20 minutes.

Fortunately for me, we're leaving tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning we'd say goodbye to this beautiful country and I'd say goodbye to all the memories I've made. The return to New York would certainly be interesting, things were simple, then complicated and now? Now things seem to be a garbage fire. A complete mess.

I needed to hide away from everyone, mostly Harry. The only way I knew how to avoid my feelings and conflicts was to keep busy. Typically I'd drown myself with work, but packing everything up would have to do for now.

I continued to fumble with my clothes, tossing them into separate piles. My breath hitched when I pulled out a particular item from the pile: Harry's shirt, the one I had secretly taken a few nights ago after a lustful and passionate night. The fabric felt soft in my hands, and I gripped it tightly, unsure whether I wanted to tear it apart or not. Without thinking, I lifted the shirt to my nose.