Reticent (h.s fanfic, punk Harry)

chapter 13

Whoever reading this, thank you and you are beautiful !

OPHELIA/PRESENT

I wondered if I should walk back and apologize to her, and while I thought about I decided to let the TV be on so the noise could clog up all the nerves going through my body. I was just thinking too much. Connie was never very discreet about her dislike towards George, actually she always made it pretty clear that he wasn't her favorite person. But I didn't know she would be mixed up in this prank. I didn't know Connie was one to play pranks. I had been there when she filled the teachers lounge with balloons, and no teacher could get to their desks, but that was harmless. And while her parents told her not to do anything like that again, they had still gone home and laughed about it. John seemed amused but Darcy went straight to grounding.

I didn't know what to think about this, Connie is my best friend, and I didn't want her getting in trouble, but George was someone I'd been with so long. He was my support system for so long, and yet...everything Connie had said was true, and I still couldn't help that nagging feeling at the back of my mind telling me that this was probably it for me, and really there was no one else out there. And what if there was no one there. George had always told me what was good for me-well he'd told me what my mother had told me, and perhaps I'd become too accustomed to it. Perhaps it had become my norm.

I continued to watch whatever was playing behind the screen and flinched when two arms wrapped around me. "Sorry," Connie whispered from beside my ear.

So I was being saved, she was apologizing to me. "There's nothing to be sorry for, I suppose, I understand what you meant."

She sighed and walked over beside me to sit on the couch. She had her boy shorts and one of Liam's shirts. It seemed every time she visited Liam's house she brought one of his sweaters or shirts and he would never see it again. "I love you, Ophelia. You're like a sister to me, and I don't want you to feel this way. George isn't being fair to you. He always says things that hurts you. And the worst part is that you believe him." She took a deep breath. "Why don't you believe that you're beautiful?"

I looked towards the TV, a weird movie played about someone trying to steal Christmas. "Do you think he'll succeed?" I looked over at Connie.

"Jack? Phee, have you never watched Nightmare Before Christmas. It's a classic!" It seemed she had forgotten about her previous question. "He doesn't succeed, because he's so used to scaring, that's what hes good at."

"I can't bring myself to look at myself in any other way than the ones that my mother and George has painted, it's what I'm good at. Unfortunately."

"You know, you remind me of Sally." She smiled my way. "You fall every time and lose a piece of yourself, but no matter what happens you always get up."

I giggled. It was an eerie character to be compared to, but I could find method to this madness. "Perhaps," I mused. "Maybe Dr. Finklestein will one day let go."

"I think he's already let go. And maybe now you can go with Jack."

"And who is my Jack?" I asked her.

"I think we'll both understand as the time comes." She sighed once more. "Maybe I'll find my Jack as well."

"Don't you already have yours?"

"Perhaps," she spoke with a yawn.

We finished the movie and sleep took over. I laid on the couch while she was beside me, and sometime through the night I felt her fall. We had a laugh over that, and we felt too tired to walk back into the room. So we spent the night on the floor, only the fireplace keeping us unevenly warm, and the hardwood acting as a very unpleasant bed. But we slept through it, and we woke with a blanket on us and the fire place turned off.