I laid in the tub, completely submerged in water. I liked holding my breath until I felt like I was either going to drown or pass out; because then you get to come up for air and it’s the most gratifying thing in the world.
There was a muffled noise above the water, I figured it was Harry. I sat up, slicking my hair back so I could see.
“What?”
“When are you going to be done, I’ve got a date in half an hour.” I narrowed my eyes at the door.
He had a date. With Caroline. That pretty, older, mature lady from across the street.
“Actually showering for her? Must really like her.”
My naked body was chilled once out of the bath, and I wrapped myself in one of his fluffy towels.
“I guess. Look, I need to have a shower.”
I rolled my eyes and slipped on my underwear, then my bra, and Harry’s white tee. Which was huge on me. My tangled, wet hair dripped down my back as I popped open the door, letting Harry know he could come in. I carefully swayed my hips as I sat down at the edge of his bed.
He was shirtless.
“Took you long enough. Mum will be home in a couple hours. She fancies you, but not enough to know that I let you lay naked in my tub.”
I smirked shyly. “So you think about me naked?” He shook his head, clearly flustered, clambering into the bathroom and shutting the door.
But he didn’t lock it.
Unconsciously I fingered my blue medallion. The one he gave me last week, the one I hadn’t taken off since, the one he never took off. Why did he give it to me?
My foggy brain remembered me crying, me drunk, and me engulfed in his warm arms.
Even though I can’t really recall it, I know it’s one of my favorite memories.
I was ripped out of my hazy nostalgia by the sound of his voice. He was singing. My boy across the street was singing a foreign song, voice dripping with talent.
That voice should be selling out arenas, not sweet talking some old woman.
I laid back on the bed and traced the jagged scars across my thighs as I listened to him. Every other noise or thought or dream was silenced by the pure bliss I felt when he sang. The words seemed thick and palpable to me, soothing the most painful parts of my existence. A slow smile worked its way across my face as he continued on Fix You by Coldplay.
The shower turned off, and so did his words. I sighed.
“Lia, you still here?”
I nodded until I realized he couldn’t see me. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
And just like that my emotions hit a peak, my mind spiraled out of control, and tears were slipping down my face. I tried not to see the symbolic representation those words had to me, but I was too much of a writer. I fed on moments like these. And so did my feelings.
Suddenly I wanted to scream at Harry and cry and throw things. I was still here, but he was leaving me. Leaving me for some older woman who was undoubtedly 20 times better than me, funnier than me, more stable than me.
Then abruptly I wanted to scream at myself and cry and throw things. I was still here, and he was still my friend. Still my friend that put up with me and understood to me and protected me.
I heard the door pop open and before I could put myself together again he came sauntering out, wet curls sagging in his eyes and topless body glistening.
