Nowhere In Particular // H.S.

Thirty-Six: Reasons

I'm a reasonable person.

Sure, I ran away from home because it felt like every person I loved turned on me, which is probably a little dramatic now that I've had the time to reflect on it. That decision came from years of buildup though. It was almost as rational as it was irrational. And even with that impulsive choice, I wouldn't say it makes a difference in how I normally handle situations. I'm a reasonable person, and Harry knows this.

But he also knows that I've been holding in a lot of frustration with him. He knows that no matter how reasonable I am, I'm also not an entirely passive person. I might be naturally kind-hearted and understanding... but I also have a strong mind and I don't let people walk all over me. Not that Harry's walked all over me in any way, but he's crossed a line.

He knows this. And he knows that because we're in a public place I won't let my frustration completely boil over, I'll stay reasonable to the point where I don't make a scene... he knows this and that almost makes me even more mad at him.

I haven't given him a chance to explain his last sentence to me anymore than the simple confession, and my mind is easily running through different scenarios because of this, tempted to just run out of the restaurant while I'm at it. I know I should give him time to explain, and my silence is doing so... but he isn't taking the opportunity, he just stays silent, like he's waiting for me to say something else before he takes another step.

There are too many feelings from this confession for me to really make sense out of it. Right now the strongest emotions are consisting of confusion and anger... confusion because I still have no idea what's going on, anger because he's obviously lied to me... multiple times too.

I've always been so open with Harry. And while this doesn't mean that he's entitled to do the same, I feel like the mutual respect of honesty should be expected, especially with something like this. Something that's so simple, but has also influenced a lot of my time with him in the last few months, and a lot of who he is to me.

"What?" the word leaves my mouth, my voice as shaky as my hands feel.

"Greta," he whispers my name, reaching for my hand across the table.

For the first time since I've known Harry I don't want him to hold my hand, I don't want him to touch me or to say my name that way. I just want him to tell me what's going on and to stop pretending that it's not my concern. I don't want him to hold myhand so I pull it back as soon as his fingers touch my skin, quickly moving it under the table.

As soon as I do this Harry's nervousness leaves and it's replaced by a different expression... something between shock and so much hurt that his bottom lip quivers for a second. Normally this would cause me to back track my movements, to let him hold my hand. But even with the clear hurt on his face that makes my heart feel like its breaking into a million little pieces, I can't move my hand back to his. Even if I want to, I can't do it.

"I-, I-," he stutters, staring at the spot on the table where my hand was, where I rejected his gesture to comfort me or whatever he was trying to do. "I don't know what to say..."

"Why don't you just tell me the truth, Harry?" my voice is harsh. The tone even surprises me as the question comes out, even though it's expressing exactly how I feel right now.

Harry seems almost as shocked by this as he did with my refusal to hold his hand. His expression that's directed my way makes me want to move seats to be next to him, to hug him and tell him everything is okay... but it's not okay. I'm the reason for his distressed look, one that makes me nearly feel sick. But I'm also not the reason for it, he's the reason that this happening right now.