Hi, this is a small chapter, just a little more of Theo and Harper's friendship.
December 12th - Sunday
Theo P.O.V.
"Stay still." Harper asks me as she tries to put a face mask on my skin.
"I'm trying."
Liam went with his parents this afternoon to his grandparents' house as they hadn't seen each other for a while and they invited them for dinner. Although Liam seemed afraid to go because of the effect of tomorrow's moon, he knew he couldn't refuse and he also missed his grandparents. So Harper and I were alone at Liam's house.
Harper immediately said she was going to give me a little spa session at home, declaring that my skin looks like "coming out of a sandstorm." and that my hands are as rough as "the concrete on the street." She then set the mood in Liam's bathroom, lighting some candles and playing calm music on her phone.
"My brother hates me doing this to him, I've also tried doing it with Liam but he says the products make him itch." Harper says with a smile.
"I'm quite comfortable." I admit.
"Great, I never thought you would accept it."
"Me neither."
Harper laughs and takes an exfoliating cream that she rubs on my hands, giving me a kind of massage. Who knew I could feel so relaxed right now. My thoughts fall to Liam and I remember the strange feeling I felt yesterday.
"You understand about the supernatural, don't you?" I ask, breaking the silence.
"Yes, Deaton taught me everything I know." Harper explains, a little confused by my question.
"How do you know when you have an anchor?"
Harper's brown eyes watch me carefully and she tries to hide a smile before answering.
"Everyone has an anchor. Even humans."
"Really? Do you have one?"
"Sure. My brother is my anchor. Whenever things are bad, or I feel like the best is to give up, he's my reminder that I can't do it. He is my reminder that I'm not alone and that I have to be strong. And despite being the person who annoys me the most, he is also the person I love the most." Harper's eyes light up. "An anchor is what keeps you at the surface and stops you from drowning in your darkest thoughts. An anchor doesn't always have to be a person, it can be something simple like music, or a place or a feeling, but when it's a person you have no doubts. It's the one you break your own rules for."
Liam.
Harper doesn't ask me any questions and part of me feels like it's because she already knows the answers to all of them.
"You really care about him, don't you?" She finally asks.
"Yeah. He's the only one I have, I can't imagine what would happen to me if something bad happened to him."
Harper cleans my face and proceeds to spread a serum on my skin.
"He feels the same."
"You think so?"
"I'm sure. And Theo?"
"Yes?" I look up at her.
"Now you have me too, and if you ever need someone to talk to or a place to stay, I'm at a call away."
"Thank you."
"Now," Harper brings a lively atmosphere to the room again and shows me a huge smile. "You're going to paint my nails because I can't do it myself."
Harper gives me a small bottle of blue nail polish and extends her hands toward me, resting them on my legs.
"I don't know how to do that." I say opening the small bottle and almost spilling the polish on myself.
"Do your best, I can clean up the edges after."
I do a terrible job, painting more of Harper's fingers than her nails, but she later manages to wipe the polish off her fingers and seems pleased with the end result. We pack the things and go to my room where we talk about the most diverse subjects. We are so committed in our conversation that we don't even notice when Liam enters the house, only noticing his presence when he opens the bedroom door and finds us sitting on the floor reading magazines about Harper's favorite bands.
"What have you been doing?" Liam asks, sitting on the edge of my bed.
"Spa day." I say with a smile.
_______________
What's your anchor?
Megan x

YOU ARE READING
Red String of Fate - Thiam
FanfictionLiam wants to run away. Theo wants somewhere to feel like home. Maybe Theo can be Liam's escape. And maybe Liam can be Theo's home. Because let the truth be spoken, home it's not always a place, sometimes it's someone else's arms.