Karma ||H.S||

Chapter 20

Fighting with Harry is never easy, and it's definitely near the top of my list of least favorite things. But luckily for us, falling back together is something we seem to do best. I've decided though, despite my hatred for the way we yell at each other, that maybe it's a good thing we're able to have arguments. I've never raised my voice at anyone the way I do with Harry, because the consequences were just not something I wanted to imagine, and as I sit on our hotel room bed, I realize that it's showing me that I'm just at the level of comfortableness with him that I need to be, and it's really more positive than negative to say the least.

There was a lot of honesty thrown about between us this afternoon. I know not everything was put on the table, but a lot was said. Everything that needed to be said at the moment, was, and even though it was hard to say the truth out loud, I felt better about a lot of things because of it. He knows now that I worry. That I'm insecure and have doubts, and he knows that I'm broken. I know he thinks that I'm the most difficult girl to deal with, yet he still stays, that the only place he wants to be, is with me. And I now know that he's broken too.

I can't help but wonder what his rendition of broken is. What happened to him to make him feel that way. If it's something that I could help him with, to put his pieces back together. He has helped me fix more pieces of me than I think I even understand and I couldn't be more grateful to him for that. I don't think some of my broken parts would even be close to being put back together if it weren't for him.

I still can't believe he's from Victoria. Fairfield at that. Although most everyone who lived in Victoria lived on the richer side to life, Fairfield was full of trust fund kids who lived next to the ocean in big houses and all had nice cars. It made sense as to why he drives an Audi. His parents probably bought it for him, like all parents did for their kids there. He probably lived in one of those huge houses along the beach, living the high life.

I could never judge him for that though. I lived in the community next to his, in Oak Bay, and we lived just the same. My parents were rich, we lived in a nice house along the beach, all my friends were trust fund kids and everything about our lives, was rich.

I don't ask him who he was friends with. I don't ask him where exactly he lived or try to figure out why I had never seen him before, because as much as that part of my life is severely missed at times, I don't want to talk about the past. But a new question wanders through my head.

Did he know me before? My most favorite place in the world was in Fairfield. The park next to the ocean, where I went when I wanted to be alone. Had he ever seen me there? Did he ever see me at one of those many parties we had attended? Or a Fairfield High dance? It didn't seem like he knew who I was the first day we met. And I don't think this particular boy who's in this hotel room with me would ever, for the life of him, lie to me. Not with his trying so hard to get me to trust him. I simply push the thought from my mind knowing it was just a silly thing to wonder in the first place, because if he knew me before, I would for sure know that by now.

Harry is getting his camera equipment ready to take to the show, making sure he has everything that he needs before we have to leave in twenty minutes, which I already did before joining him for a nap earlier. I'm just watching him. Every few minutes he runs his hands through his hair as it falls into his face and he has the most serious look, sticking his tongue out between his lips in concentration, as he puts a new battery into his camera, flashes his flash making sure it works and counts his memory sticks. After the tenth time he runs his hand through his hair, I think it's time he puts his beanie back on to tame his wild curls. I throw it at him, taking him out of concentration mode.

Without looking at me, he places it on his head, smiling at my gesture but goes on with his business. I quite like the way he looks at the moment, sitting on the floor cross legged with his white t-shirt and black skinny jeans and the way his curls flip out of his green beanie trying to escape. I feel the sudden need to kiss him, and my heart starts to pound as the thought seems to take over me.