Shelter 《H.S.》

Chapter 002

The first thing Harry noticed as his bleary eyes cracked open was that he wasn't in his usual building on the single mattress he'd found. Instead, he was coccooned in warmth and surrounded by the scent of vanilla with a hint of lavender. The leather beneath his cheek was warm from his own body heat and he was comfortable.

Then, he remembered the pounding behind his eyes, his entire body sore as his stomach churned uneasily. He felt like shit and couldn't remember how he got wherever it was that he currently was. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the large flat screen mounted in the wall across from where he was situated, a small entertainment center placed beneath it with a gaming system on top and various games on the shelf below it.

Craning his head, he glanced to the wall facing the top of his head. There were a few paintings decorating it's length before it dipped down into a short hallway where Harry could just make out three doors. He propped himself up on one elbow and craned his neck to glance over the black couch he was sprawled across, noticing how the wall on that side cut off and a kitchen bar took its place.

It was sleek and modern, the floors a dark hardwood and the countertops were a sleek black granite, beige walls tying it all together with the deep black leather furniture. Harry's gaze shifted to the bookcases lining the wall towards his feet, all of them filled with an array of books before he finally caught a glimpse of blonde hair.

She was settled into the armchair that was off the foot of the couch, blonde hair tied back into a messy ponytail with a few strands slipping loose around her face with notebooks and pens and highlighters spread out across her lap and the coffee table in front of her. A green highlighter was clasped between her plump lips as her head bobbed along to the quiet music filtering from her phone. Harry couldn't see much of her face, but when she finally glanced up and caught his gaze she took his breath away.

She had a round face, her eyes were round and deep set, a chocolate brown color framed by black-rimmed glasses. Her hair was golden blonde, strands slipping free and framing her delicate features. Her lips were a deep pink and plump as she offered him a soft smile. He was sure he looked like an idiot staring at her all wide-eyed and slack jawed.

"Oh, good. You're awake." She spoke as she began shifting everything from her lap to the coffee table.

Harry just nodded his head slowly. Partly because it was still pounding and partly because he was almost postive he was having a bad trip (or a good one, it was still too soon to tell). Her voice was soft and innocent, absolutely befitting of the thin girl in front of him. He watched her dainty legs unfold as she stood up, offering him a warm smile before shuffling over to the counter.

She was tall and thin, her figure moving gracefully back towards him with a glass of water in one hand and something else clasped in the palm of the other. She gave him a reassuring his as she handed it all to him, three pills with a glass of water. He took them gratefully, tossing the pills back and chugging the glass of water before sitting up straight on the couch.

A wave of embarrassment washed over him. He felt out of place in her sleek, clean home with his ratty clothes and the grime coating his skin. His cheeks flushed as he diverted his gaze to the floor, muttering out a stammered thank you. He began to twist his fingers together as she made her way back to the chair.

"I'm not sure how much of last night you remember, but I'm Skylar. I brought you home with me last night cos I found you drunk on the sidewalk after you got your arse handed to you. Umm, if you'd like, you're welcome to take a shower. I put some fresh clothes in the bathroom with a towel and stuff." She said quietly, her own nerves making her voice waver.

Harry's heart swelled with warmth. It'd been a while since someone had been so kind towards him. His own family and friends had eventually grown tired of his shit. Not that he blamed them. Since his divorce he'd spent more time staring down a bottle of whatever alcohol he could get his hands on than dealing with any of them. They'd all tried to help, but Harry didn't want help. He just wanted to numb the pain that came with the sting of divorce from a woman he'd spent nearly ten years hopelessly in love with.