Hunger [H.S]

April (part 4)

Frankie wanted to disappear into a dark, cold space for saying that she thought she was in love with him. They had barely known each other for two months, and it was very rushed of her to make a comment like that. It wasn't untrue, though.
"Oh my God, I'm sorry. I got carried away with the moment," she hurried up and said, hoping she hadn't made him uncomfortable. She covered her eyes and felt the embarrassment prickling under her skin.

Harry was gently running his fingers up and down her arm, steering around her neatly wrapped tattoo. "So which is it?" He asked.

"What do you mean?" Frankie looked out from behind her hands.

"Are you falling in love with me, or did you get carried away with the moment?" He searched her face, still touching her and not moving away from her.

Her mind was racing. Truth or lie? She bit her bottom lip and felt trapped between saying how she felt, and saying what she thought was socially acceptable. An eternal struggle that had not gotten easier with age, unfortunately. It applied to many aspects of her life; wear what you like, or wear what the general public might find acceptable. Put on a swimming suit and go swimming with your friends, or stay on the beach fully dressed. Dance at the club for the fun of it, or stay seated not to embarrass yourself. Let your opinion be heard, when you wholeheartedly disagree with someone, or keep your opinion to yourself to avoid conflict and possible humiliation. 

"Love, you're in your head, let me in," his voice was calm and kind, and he didn't seem annoyed with her. 

Frankie felt unhinged. She didn't want him to change his mind about her, but she didn't want to lie to him either. She was vulnerable already, lying next to him on the sofa, naked and exposed, all her insecurities visible. In a way it was an all or nothing situation. If he was uncomfortable with her falling in love, it was better to have it out and stop things, before she fell hard. 

She cleared her throat and rested her head on his chest. It was easier to say what she wanted to, if she didn't have to look at him while saying it. "I'm not getting carried away with the moment, but..." she started, and immediately felt overwhelmed by emotions. She teared up, because she felt extremely vulnerable and exposed, so she quickly wiped at her eyes, hoping he wouldn't notice. But Harry was perceptive as always, and he sat up and pulled her into a hug. 

"What's wrong, Frankie?" His voice was concerned, as he hugged her tightly and gently stroked her cheek. "Am I pressuring you too much?" He asked, and started apologising. 

Frankie shook her head and stopped him from apologising. "It's not you, Harry. Don't apologise. You're right in wanting me to open up. I'm just so freaked out by not knowing how to say what I need to say." 

"Just tell me how you feel, and if I can't handle it, then that's my problem," he said softly. "I've handled rejection before."  

"Rejection?" Frankie asked, confused that that was the conclusion he was coming to. 

"Well yeah, aren't you sad, because you're scared of hurting my feelings?" He asked, and tipped her head up, so he could see her eyes. 

Frankie furrowed her brows. "No. It's because I'm scared of forcing my feelings on you." She said. "If I tell you how I feel, I might freak you out," she whispered.

"Do you want to eat me? Sell me for parts? Take over my identity?" He joked, making her giggle, and lightening the mood, which she needed. 

She shook her head. "I do think I am falling in love with you though, and that's scary as fuck." 

Harry chuckled. "Is it? I think it's lovely. Surely you know that I feel the same?" He gently moved a strand of her hair from her face, tucking it tenderly behind her ear.