Reaching Out To You (h.s. au)

3

H.S.

"Ro's a nice girl," my mum smiles, my eyes flickering to look at her.

"Her name is Rosalie," I tell her. She just smiles, shaking her head as she continues to drive.

"You were out with her last night," she says, my head nodding.

I'd never done such a thing, climbing on a roof. Rosalie seems adventurous and open, easily helping people and being kind to them. She deserved to know why I'm the way I am. It eased me to know she was okay with me being anxious and so nervous.

"I told her about the anxiety," I say, her head swiveling to look at me quickly.

"Really?" I nod, her hand setting on mine.

"Oh, I'm so proud of you," she grins, my eyes rolling. It's harder for me to open up to people like Rosalie, only because of how kind she is.

She stops in front of my therapist's office, my hand opening the door.

"I'll be back in an hour then we'll go to the diner," she smiles, my head nodding.

My boots scuff against the pavement as I walk up the steps, the door opened. The familiar room is met and I walk down to my doctor, knocking before I enter.

"Harry, how are you?" Dr. Carl asks, my head giving him a curt nod.

"Okay."

He smiles and I sit in the chair, leaning my elbows on my knees. Since we moved to the US a few months ago (only now moving into a house), I've been seeing Carl twice a week. The openness I have with him is easy due to the assurance he isn't allowed to speak of my life to anyone.

"Anything new?" he asks, my eyes flickering to meet his.

"I met a girl."

He smiles and sets his clipboard down, my heart pounding. I don't know how to explain Rosalie. She sees past what everyone else sees. Usually people are put off my by stare. It helps me focus. Whenever I have a conversation with someone, I analyze everything. The person then usually says they have to go, but Rosalie hasn't yet.

"Her name's Rosalie, but she introduced herself as Ro and I told her that she has a weird name," I say, recalling the day very clearly.

"Harry, you can't tell people their names are weird," he says, my head shaking.

"She laughed and then told me her name was Rosalie. I don't know why someone with that name would asked to be called Ro. Rosalie's a beautiful name," I say, his head nodding as he folds his hands over his desk.

"What do you feel for Rosalie?" he asks, my eyebrows frowning.

"I'm supposed to feel something for her?" I ask, his head nodding.

I suppose last night when we were talking I felt comfortable. She really nice and when she held my hand, it was an unexplainable feeling. She has the softest hands and I liked the feeling of her skin against mine.

"I guess...comfortable. I'm not usually comfortable with other people," I remind him.

He stands, moving his hand along his tie to sooth it. "Now, I'm going to ask you a question regarding relationships," he starts, sitting in the chair beside me.

"How far have you gotten with a girl? I'm only asking this so I know your standpoint on relationships. I'm sworn to secrecy and I won't tell a living soul," he says, my hands folding but I soon fiddle with my fingers.

"I-I had my first kiss when I was twelve. I never really dated after the accident when I was thirteen, so I've never done...stuff," I say, his head nodding.