Reckless {HS}

forty-five

Delilah's Pov

I stood awkwardly near the door, watching Niall, Louis, and Liam say their goodbyes. It had been an oddly normal evening, just hanging out at Harry's place after tonight's job. But now the atmosphere was shifting. The boys were leaving, and I wasn't sure what to do next. Was this my cue to go home?

"See you later, Delilah," Niall said with a wink as he headed out, followed by Louis and Liam, who both gave me quick waves. I smiled back, but my mind was racing. Once the door clicked shut behind them, it was just Harry and me. And suddenly, the room felt too big, too quiet.

"Well, I guess I should head back to my place," I said, trying to sound casual but feeling anything but. I wasn't sure if I should leave or if Harry expected me to stay. The uncertainty hung in the air between us.

Harry shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Or... you could stay here, if you wanted," he said, his voice lower than usual. "You know, if you don't want to be alone."

I blinked, surprised. That wasn't what I expected him to say. I wasn't sure how to respond, so I just stared at him for a moment, feeling like I needed more context.

Harry cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed now. "I just... I remember after my first job, being alone was the last thing I wanted." He said it quickly, like he was worried he was saying too much.

I nodded, understanding what he meant. The rush from tonight was still buzzing in my veins, and I could only imagine how strange it would feel to be alone after something like that. But was it weird to stay? I didn't know the etiquette for post-heist sleepovers.

"So, do you have an extra bedroom or something?" I asked hesitantly, not wanting to assume anything. "Or I can stay on the couch if that's easier."

Harry looked a little uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Uh, I only have the one bed. But you can take it. I'll sleep somewhere else. Couch, floor, whatever."

Now I felt awkward. I wasn't sure if I should insist on leaving or just go with what he was offering. "Are you sure?" I asked, looking around the room as if a second bed might magically appear.

Harry nodded, walking over to his dresser and pulling out one of his t-shirts. "Yeah. It's no problem," he said as he handed me the shirt. "You can sleep in this if you want. I'll, uh, make up the floor."

I stared at the shirt in my hands, the worn fabric soft between my fingers. It was a bit surreal — being here, in Harry's space, borrowing his clothes, while he prepared to sleep on the floor like it was the most normal thing in the world. I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't normal at all.

I changed into the shirt and climbed into the bed, the familiar scent of Harry surrounding me from the sheets. It made me feel... safe, I guess. As weird as that sounded. I watched as Harry grabbed a pillow and a blanket, kneeling down to make himself comfortable on the floor. The sight of him down there, bundled up on the hardwood, made my chest tighten with guilt.

"Is that what you did the last time I was here?" I asked, my voice quiet in the dark.

Harry paused, glancing up at me. "Yeah," he admitted with a slight nod.

I bit my lip, staring at the ceiling. "Why don't you sleep on the couch or something more comfortable?"

Harry shifted on the floor, shaking his head. "Because I don't want you to be alone," he said simply.

Something about the way he said it made my heart clench. He was willing to sacrifice his own comfort just to make sure I didn't feel lonely. I hadn't expected that. I suddenly felt terrible that he was down there, sleeping on the floor because of me. And then I had an idea, one that felt a little crazy but also... not.

"There's plenty of room up here," I said, more to myself than to him at first. "Get up here. You're not sleeping on the floor."

Harry froze, looking up at me like he wasn't sure if he'd heard me right. "Are you sure?" he asked, hesitant. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see it. "Just get up here. It's a big bed."

He hesitated for a second longer, then slowly stood up, grabbing his pillow and blanket before climbing into the opposite side of the bed. True to my word, we were both as close to the edges as we could possibly get, like two strangers who'd been forced to share a bed in a weird sitcom.

The room was silent again, the darkness making it feel even quieter. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling a strange tension between us. It wasn't uncomfortable, exactly, but it wasn't totally easy either. My mind was racing with a million different thoughts, and before I knew it, I was talking. Not to Harry, exactly — just... talking.

"I don't know how to feel about any of this," I started, my voice barely a whisper. "About being here. About tonight. About you."

Harry stayed quiet, but I could tell he was listening. I wasn't even sure if I wanted him to respond. I just needed to get the words out.

"I thought I knew what I was getting into, but this is all so much bigger than I thought. And now I'm... I don't know. There's just no going back now." I paused, biting my lip. "I just hope I don't mess it all up."

Harry still didn't say anything, but his presence beside me was enough. It was weird, but I felt more comfortable talking to him in the dark like this, without him staring at me or asking questions. Maybe it was easier because I wasn't even sure he could relate.

I let out a long breath, finally feeling the exhaustion of the day starting to catch up with me. My eyes fluttered closed, and the last thing I heard before drifting off was Harry shifting beside me, as if he was still processing everything I'd said.

Whatever happened next, I was in this now. And maybe, just maybe, I wasn't as alone in it as I thought.