for this moment in time// h.s.

Chapter Twenty-Four (full): that way & those eyes

Chapter Twenty-Three: "that way" & those eyes

*⚠️WARNING⚠️: mentions of/implied self-harm. Please prioritize your mental health and don't relapse. ily.*

(Morgan's pov)

My suitcase on my bed had a haphazard collection of clothes piled on top of it. I'd only been here for two weeks and everything was already a mess. Folding shirts in a way that I could only hope wouldn't leave wrinkles, I mentally wished I would've made a list of everything I'd brought so I could know I had everything. That I had control over one thing at the very least.

My notebook I left on the bed, seeing as I would need it but everything else went into the suitcase, as nicely as I could manage at least. Beneath me, I could hear the house slowly come to life, the volume level steadily rising. I didn't know how they all had as much energy on barely four hours of sleep.

Just as I was double checking that I had everything everything, there was a knock on the door. Distracted, I opened the nightstand drawer, looking for my copy of Little Women. "Come in?"

The door opened as I turned and when I saw who it was I nearly dropped my book. Harry froze as well, before recovering, stammering. "Oh, um, sorry, is now a bad time?"

I blinked, allowing myself a moment to see him before turning and packing the book away. "No. No, you're fine. What's up?"

He took a breath, "About last night, I just wanted to talk-"

"We don't have to. It's whatever, it's done." I said quickly, the phrases all blurring together in my head. I couldn't possibly do this right now. It was too early for this right now.

Harry took a step closer and I automatically took one back. I felt bad, especially when I knew he'd seen. But still. He sighed, "It isn't- it's not whatever I wanna talk about it, please-"

I shook my head, holding my hands up in surrender, "I don't want an explanation, I don't need the speech right now..." I paused, "Don't worry I won't hold it against you, you shouldn't feel obligated to.." I sighed, glancing at the clock, " I gotta go."

As I made a move towards the door, he reached out and grabbed my arm. Frozen, I felt like I couldn't breathe, wanting to jump out of my skin. When I pulled away he didn't stop me.

"Where do you have to go?" He questioned, sounding genuinely curious.

It was right then when I realized that no one else knew about Simon's phone call. Because I hadn't told them.

Having people who care was a bit of a new thing.

I shrugged, "I dunno. I was told Management wanted to talk."

For someone who hated liars and lying, either I was a better one than I'd previously thought or Harry just wanted to believe me anyways.

He sighed, "If they give you any trouble about anything that's happened, please just blame me alright?"

"Trouble?" I scoffed, grabbing my notebook and phone. "They're a couple of rich people in suits. They can't cause me any trouble anymore than they can you."

He laughed humorlessly, "You'd be surprised." Harry started to walk out but paused, "and I really do mean it when I say I want to talk later."

I just nodded, not intending to let him keep his word before brushing past him as I took the stairs two at a time, drowning in my own thoughts.

~~~

Thankfully it was the same studio as the one the boys went to, so it was somewhat familiar. And at the very least, there was no paparazzi crowding me this time. No panic attacks about that today, at least.