✓ lights /styles au/

3 Yesterday

took you long enough to say you trust me, yet i feel like you're hiding so much.

"Harry," Jo snapped her fingers gently in front of his face. She was already late for work. He hadn't woken up yet and she couldn't say she trusted him in her apartment alone.

He tucked his bottom lip under his top row of teeth and she winced a little, bringing her fingers up to tap it. She slowly brought it loose again.

"You'll tear the cut," she sighed, adjusting herself on the floor. Her legs were folded just in front of where he laid, feet covered in cotton socks that only went past her ankles. The sweatshirt she wore advertised the college she graduated from. It was burgundy and faded and had the initials F.U. on the front followed by the year she graduated.

When she drew her hand away, her eyes fell on the wound that was already reopening. With a sigh of frustration, she pushed her hair away from her face and frowned, staring at the small stitches she'd given him herself. She didn't like to brag, but she did a nice job and kind of wanted to wake him up so he could thank her for it.

"Harry?" She asked again, leaning over and setting her chin on the cushion beside his shoulder. He let out a groan and she knew he was close to waking up. "Harry, you need to wake up."

Finally, his eyes opened slowly. He blinked and his hands convulsed at his sides a little before he brushed them against the soft fabric of the couch, eyebrows knitting together like he was confused. After looking up at the ceiling, he closed his eyes and frowned.

"Harry?"

He turned and his eyelids fell open casually. "Hello."

She placed two fingers in front of his face, her black painted nails glowing with the lights she had on. "How many fingers am I holding?"

He kept his eyes on her as he brought a hand up slowly and locked his fingers around her own, tracing her skin delicately before clasping them around her index and middle finger with a slight smile that split the cut under his bottom lip more.

She assumed he wouldn't give it much time to heal.

He breathed out a groggy, "two," before dropping his hand and leaving hers in the air.

"How do you feel?"

He groaned aloud, making her eyes widen. Joey slid back so her back was inclined and her hands were holding her up from behind, arms straight and barely diagonal. "Why so bright?"

She rolled her eyes before getting to her feet and walking to the light switch, dimming the lights but not entirely shutting them. The sunlight was enough to lighten the room, but the living room looked better in white light than the orange that was staining the window and curtains and parts of the wall it sat across. "Do you think you need a doctor?"

He sat up quickly and winced soon after, what sounded like a small whimper passing his lips. She bit her own lip and watched him touch his feet to the floor, his black-sock clad feet filling a whole tile pattern. She looked down at her own and shrugged like she was disinterested, though the foot size difference between herself and him was impeccable. "I'm really sorry about last night."

Jo leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, confused as he stood and spread out his hands, beginning to walk carefully around the room. She thought he was stretching at first, but wasn't so sure as he began splaying his hands out and touching everything around him. His feet moved slowly and swiftly like he was cautious about where to move next. "Self defense, right? That's what I told security."

Harry was walking toward the kitchen area when he bowed his head and responded with, "guy came out of nowhere," he touched the counter, running his hands over the edges of it only. "I think he drugged me."

"The um, the bouncer made sure he was brought into custody for harassment."

That's when he turned to look at her, head tilted like a child and lengthy hair styled to the side of his face she couldn't see. His bottom lip was still tucked under his teeth.

"You'll tear the stitches apart if you keep doing that."

He raised a hand to touch the cut, dry lips pausing as he drew back. "You did that?"

"Isn't it nice? I have a mirror in the bathroom if you want to check it out."

"I believe you."

His long legs were at an angle where she could see the curves of his thighs as they dipped down and created another arch for his calves. Jo decided he was really good looking. "Are you thirsty?"

"Isn't it Friday?"

"Yeah," she gyrated around the couch and proceeded closer to her guest, walking right past him and straight to the refrigerator because her tongue felt parched and she was beginning to burn.

"You don't have to work today?"

She felt the pang of stress right inside of her chest as the words left his mouth. Her boss was going to kill her and she didn't even think she had a legitimate reason as to why she was going to be four hours late. She didn't think anything could save her. "I'll be a little late today."

Her fingers clasped onto to handle of the water pitcher and she pulled it out, glancing over her shoulder to see him with his hands in his jean pockets before his eyes widened and he stumbled back, feet tripping over Wiley who had been lying beside the counter all morning.

+++++

Harry fell back onto the floor but his back caught his fall, knocking the air from his lungs. His head was lifted as to not take the hard hit that would make him even more disabled than he thought he already was. "Shit," he coughed out. Something began clawing at his arm and he brought a hand to graze the creature; instantly recognizing it as a cat. It hissed at him and he jerked away, clambering up on his feet awkwardly. "Your cat," he faced Jo and licked his lips, "I didn't see him, I'm sorry. Shit, is it hurt?"

From across the room, he heard a very gentle laugh that mostly confused him. Harry didn't want to lean over and feel the small kitten for any wrong he might've done to it, but the girl's laughing seemed to confirm that it wasn't at all hurt. "Just pissed off."

He nodded and took a step back, but not before feeling his way backward so he wouldn't hurt himself or anything else. He pressed his right hand against the wall and retreated back into the living room slowly. "I'm really sorry about last night and um, right now for making you late for work and your-" he paused, bending toward the couch to grab his jacket and glasses that were set on top of it. "And your cat. Really sorry."

"He'll be okay," she reassured.

He shrugged his jacket on expertly; the only right thing he could do in such an unfamiliar place. Her apartment was like a maze to him and Harry was never well with games that included memory and sharp turns, so he really had to get out.

"Are you leaving?"

He nodded, pushing his hair back and putting his glasses on like he was in a rush, and in some odd way, he actually might've been. Because he felt out of place and his head hurt and he just finished ruining somebody's morning. "Yeah, I think I should really just leave. I'm really sorry for everything."

He turned and felt for the door without making it easily seen, grip locking around the knob and pulling it open.

"Thank you for all your help."

"I'll see you later," she called out after him. He shut the door and hung his head because she still wanted to go out?

( A/n: This is a very slow chapter and I'm sorry. The next one will be faster and very soon, I promise. Thank you so much for reading and please excuse any errors. )