Elude [H.S.]

FORTY-SEVEN

While Harry was out of the house this morning at his interview, I was running through the apartment like a complete mad woman. Last night I packed and unpacked my bag at least four times, and it wasn't until Harry told me that I had packed about sixteen outfits for a trip that was only going to last a week that I stopped. He helped calm me down, and he even assisted in pairing outfits together for me. Him and I went shopping a couple of days ago where I picked out a lot of new pieces for my wardrobe.

It was nice. It felt freeing. It felt like starting over.

Even though both of our suitcases were packed, I was spending the morning getting our carry-on bags together. I had put Harry's laptop in his, just in case, and I put the Kindle he had bought me in mine. Other than that I just made sure that we each had the appropriate chargers packed, headphones, and I put a lot of Harry's jewelry in this compact zipper case I bought him recently specifically for traveling. It was perfect for not only his rings, but also the few necklaces he owned.

I felt bad because he left this morning before I was fully awake, kissing me and telling me that he'd be back soon. He knew that I had a rough night's sleep since I was a little nervous about flying, but I knew that having him next to me would help ease my nerves enough for me to get through it.

I'm still really ashamed of myself for what happened last week - no matter how many times he told me I didn't need to feel bad about it. He told me he understood why I did what I did, but I still feel so awful.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered going to therapy, but I had talked about going to therapy when I was with him, a means to help me deal with Mallory's passing, but I got laughed at. I was told therapy wasn't normal. That I was weak. I know now that that isn't the case when it comes to my mental health, but it was still hard to push past it. I was also scared that me bringing it up to Harry would be taken the wrong way. I didn't want him to think that I was doing worse, because that's not it at all, but I just feel I need it to help me get back to my true self.

I'm in the bedroom pulling the zippers on our carry-on bags as I hear the front door click. My lips curl into a smile, and I rush out of the bedroom to see Harry standing there in a suit. I stop in my tracks as my eyes trail over him, almost salivating at the sight.

It had been since Valentine's Day that I had seen him in such attire, and it made me weak at the knees. The brown colored striped suit was hanging on him, and I honestly thought my eyes were deceiving me as I noticed the light blue and white striped button up underneath. It was the same one I had worn in his bed just a few weeks prior - the one he was adamant about taking a picture of me in.

"Hi," I breathe, eyes wandering all over him before I look up to his face fully. "How did it go?"

Harry smiles, biting down on his bottom lip as he walks forward. His large hands cup my jaw tenderly as he tilts my head back - his lips firmly connecting with mine. My smile from before came back as I wrap my arms around his neck and push myself onto my tiptoes. He pulls back after a moment, knocking his nose against mine. "I got the job."