i love you, nora jane [h.s.]

6.

"Do you ever feel trapped inside your own thoughts? That feeling--it's like drowning. Like water filling your lungs and you can't scream, you can only fight the current. I am always drowning. But now it seems I've jumped in the water willingly, and maybe I'm at peace with not being able to breathe."
-Harry's journal.

.....

Nora Jane rested her palm on my shoulder as I finished up a batch of blueberry scones. The familiar touch made my nerves relax.

"You seem exhausted," she whispered in my ear softly. I turned my head to look into her eyes, shrugging slightly.

"It was a long night."

Nora Jane did not know what I really meant by that. The night before, I dreamt about the same nightmares that used to bring me to tears when I was younger. I used to be able to block them out, to make myself forget what they were about when my eyes opened. But now, I started to remember. When I jolted awake, there were no tears this time. Only the aching in my chest and the trembling of my hands. I could still feel it, though, standing in that kitchen beside her. Not even Nora Jane could kill the demons with her soft words and gentle touches.

"Tell me about it, then?" She insisted, tugging on my arm delicately.

"It's nothing," I tried to convince her, but she would not have it. "Just a dream about my father, is all."

She retracted her touch then, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. "Oh, would you like to talk about it?"

"No," I said sharply, causing her to flinch. My voice softened at her reaction, feeling guilty. "It's just, there was a time when I admired my father. And ever since--well. Let's just say my love is gone."

Nora Jane frowned, staring at me through her eyelashes. "Why?"

I laughed pitifully, giving her an odd look. "Because shit happens."

"Shit does not have to happen," she spoke quietly, narrowing her gaze down at my hands, which were balled into fists at the reminder of the memories. "I won't bother you any more of it, since you did not with the mention of my mother."

She carefully pried my clenched fingers apart, pressing her fingertips against my palm. My eyelids fluttered shut when she gently rubbed circles around the soft skin, sending a chill through my spine.

"What are you doing to me, NJ?" I breathed out, focusing on the planned motions of her fingers.

She giggled lightly, pausing her swirls in the center of my palm. "I'm calming you."

My eyes opened.

"Not that," I sighed, walking away from her. She rested her hands down by her sides, cautiously.

"Can I come over to your flat tonight?" She suddenly asked, glancing around as if she didn't want her father or sister to hear.

I perked up, straightening my posture and turning on my heels. "Why would you want to?"

In a purely innocent way.

"I have to show you something."

I am Harry. She's Nora Jane. We are friends. Nothing more, and that has to be enough.