Eight | W2S

THIRTY.

"I didn't know where else to go. I'm sorry."

Those are the first words that leave my mouth as I stand on Harry's doorstep in tears.

I watched as his facial expression change, as he realised what was happening.

"Oh, Ken. Come here," he beckoned, opening his door properly, and also opening his arms.

I didn't even think about the consequences, because his arms were too inviting, and they were exactly where I wanted — no, I needed to be right now.

I crashed into his arms, sobbing against his t-shirt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I cried.

His chin rested upon the top of my head, and I could feel a few hairs moving as he shushed me gently.

"It's okay. You're okay," he whispered, shutting the door. "Head to my room, I won't be a second," he tells me, ever so carefully pulling away from me, but still remaining close.

I don't question it, because even being here feels like I'm pushing my luck, and so I do what I'm told, and head straight to his room.

I don't close the door entirely, which means I'm able to still hear what's going on in the flat.

"Sorry, something's come up. Can we take a rain check?" I hear Harry ask, and I make out a few voices in the living room.

Two of them I don't recognise, and they're also definitely female.

Instantly I'm on edge, and I shut the door, feeling guilty for prying in his own apartment.

Was he on a date?

The apartment door shuts, and I then hear Harry talking with Cal, but that soon stops, his own door to his room opening, and he slips back in.

"Sorry about that, I had —" he starts, looking up at me and pausing when he saw my face.

It was probably a giveaway, the way I was looking at him. It was probably hypocritical to be feeling the way I felt — betrayed.

"You heard?" He asks, his voice going limp.

"The girls? Yeah, I heard. It's your apartment, you're single, you can do whatever you want. I shouldn't have come — I'm sorry, I'll go —" I start to ramble, moving towards the door but Harry blocks my way.

"No, — I mean, please stay. It's not what you think it is, it was just a stupid double date Cal wanted me to join. He likes one of the girls, you see, and I owed him a favour and — well it doesn't really matter. That's not the point. You're — you are more important at the moment," he says finally, focusing his eyes on me.

I look up at him earnestly, my eyes welling back up again, not just at him, but at everything, at today in particular.

"I don't want you to be alone today. I was going to call you, I just didn't know what to say," he continues to say, pressing a soft hand to my arm, and it sends shivers up and down my spine.

"I don't want to be alone today either," I admit.

"Then let me be with you, and let's not talk about us," he suggests, steering me gently towards the bed, where I sit perched on the edge.

I nod my head. It was probably for the best. We'd only end up heading towards an argument if we talked about us, or someone would get upset. That someone would most likely be me.

"How are you feeling? Honestly?" He asks, pulling his gaming chair opposite me, and sitting on it. It felt a little like I was in a therapy session.

"Honestly? I thought it would've gotten easier by now. She's been gone eleven years, and every anniversary is just as hard as the last one, if not harder," I open up, all of those feelings bubbling to the surface.