PULSE [H.S]

114

"Love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love, cannot be killed or swept aside." — Lin-Manuel Miranda

I don't like confining myself to a box.

I don't like to say I am one thing or to subject myself to the constraints of a certain description. I don't think anything is ever as black and white as it seems. I think everything lies in that gray area.

"I don't know," I say in response to Harry.

He asked me what my sexuality is since I've mentioned it several times now about being with women. It's a fair question for him to ask, and it's something we probably should have talked about sooner. But it's not an easy question for me to answer.

We lay in bed, cuddling after a long day of work. I love this bed, and I love being in it with him. It's so comfortable, like a giant cloud that swallows me whole. It is always littered with Harry's scent, even if he's not here.

I say, ""I've always been open to everyone. I'm definitely attracted to women too, not just men. I don't really like to put a label on it, you know? I don't want to say I'm this or that. I like people."

My sexuality is something I used to obsess over. I would stay up until 4 a.m. trying to figure out which pride flag accurately represented me. I was desperate to find a label for myself because I thought it would make me feel like I belonged somewhere. But as I got older, I realized I didn't need to be anything. I don't need to check a box.

Harry says, "I like that. Not everything needs a label."

"What about you?" I ask him, smiling into his chest.

"I'm open," he says, surprising me. He says, "I've only ever been with women, but I wouldn't say I'm limited to that. Love is love, right?"

I can't keep the grin off my face as my heart grows three sizes in my chest, making me need a bigger rib cage. He never fails to surprise me, he's always keeping me on my toes. I adore him more and more every day.

I say, "Suddenly, I love you even more."

He jokes, "At least we never have to worry about coming out to our parents."

I laugh loudly, and he laughs with me. I can feel the vibration of his laugh against my head as I lay on his chest. I say, "Being an orphan has its perks, doesn't it?"

"It's not all bad," he says.

Harry's hand rests on my waist, sitting beneath the large t-shirt I'm wearing. His t-shirt. His thumb is rubbing small circles on my skin. He probably doesn't even realize that he is doing it. It's probably a subconscious movement he isn't even aware of, but it's driving me insane. Any time his hands are on me, the whole world fades away.

I ask, "If you had to date one of the guys, who would you pick?"

He laughs, "I'm open, but I'm not that open."

"Hypothetically," I say, rolling my eyes at him.

He says, "Zayn."

"Really?" I say, surprised again, "Why Zayn? He's the last one I would've expected you to pick."

If I had to bet, I would have thought he'd pick Niall. And if not Niall, then Louis. He's a lot closer with them. He spends more time with them, and he's himself whenever they are around. With Zayn, there's always a wall between them. I don't know if it existed before I came around or if the tension developed because of me, but I really hope it has nothing to do with me.

Harry says, "He's the best out of all of us. It's why I was so pissed when he was into you. I thought he would be better for you."

"Harry," I frown, lifting my head up to look at him. I tell him, "We've talked about this."