birds // hs

18. Fallingforyou

this chapter is perfect with the song Fallingforyou by the 1975 ajskjsks I love ittttt

I startled awake at about three the next morning, probably because Harry wasn't in his usual place right next to me.

So, after trying for what seemed like hours to fall back asleep, I finally just got up and put on an old sweatshirt, then padded down the stairs to possibly find something to eat.

Harry was snoring away on the couch in the den and suddenly I became angry at the thought of him sleeping so soundly. Why was I left so worried and sleep deprived while he floated in dreamland?

But he was so beautiful when he slept...

His curls all messy and sticking to his forehead, which was glistening with a thin layer of sweat because, even in only a pair of boxers, he was still too hot. He was always too hot.

And his ample arms were crossed tightly over his chest, showing off his bicep ink and the muscular shoulders I loved to kiss so much.

I shook my head clear of all those thoughts, though, and continued walking into the kitchen, where I flicked on the dim light over the sink and got myself a tall glass of water.

The quiet of the old house was nice. Sure there were some concerning groans and creaks from the foundation but the crickets mostly drowned that out, and the rattling air conditioning unit was like icing on the cake.

"Rach?"

Of course he had heard me; did he ever not?

"I thought I was being quiet," I answered with my back still to him.

Instead of wrapping his arms around my waist like he usually did, I watched his reflection lean against the counter across from me and sigh deeply.

"I take it you couldn't sleep."

"Yep."

"Are you ill or something?"

"I hope not."

"Do you have a temperature?"

I spun around and glared at him. "No, I don't have a fucking temperature, you idiot! I couldn't sleep because you weren't in my bed. Although you seemed to be catching some pretty good z's all alone down here, Harold."

My outburst seemed to surprise him, and I could tell that he wasn't all there just by the slightly empty look in his eyes. But then again, he was always slow when he was sleepy. I guess that's why he was so addicted to coffee.

"I really wish you wouldn't yell," he furrowed his eyebrows. "I have a horrible headache and I'm just about at the end of my rope with tonight."

I rolled my eyes: typical. Typical Harry to say some dumb old people saying and leave the room, then pretend like nothing happened.

"You mean at the end of your rope with me?" I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest as he turned and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"No, I didn't say that, Rachel. I said I was done with tonight. As in, the whole fucking day. Happy?"

"Not in the least."

He closed his eyes, a pained expression on his gorgeous face. "What do you want from me, then? What do you want me to say?"

I had no idea what I wanted him to say.

I didn't even know what I wanted to hear. I just knew that I was angry, and that he was mean to me.

I hadn't done anything wrong!

Suddenly my hard exterior cracked, and I was left in near-tears while he just watched me.