the long way home [ h.s. ]

Nineteen | 19

nineteen | 19

☓

He leads me out across the field, away from the lights and the sounds. I don't bother asking questions; wherever he's taking me, I trust him. We begin strolling through the small grassy area between the fair and the lake. It sits silenty under the moon, sleepy, the night sky reflecting upon its surface.

A small path winds around the water's edge. After a few minutes of walking in the silence, I realize that this is where we're going.

Harry moves close to my side, his warm hand grabbing hold of mine.

It should have some effect, like the increase of my heartbeat, or the blush that rises to my cheeks; but, strangely, nothing comes. From the blank expression on his face, I know that he's holding something inside. His touch, if anything, seems desperate; fearful.

My stomach twists.

Something is wrong.

I know it.

"Harry," I say, and although it's meant as a question, it leaves moreso as a statement. "Harry, what is it?"

When he doesn't answer, I grow ever more anxious. We end up at the opposite side of the lake, far enough to be invisible, but with the colorful sight still in view from across the way.

His grip on my hand is unintentioanlly tight.

"Harry," I say louder, pulling against him. He spins around to face me, and I almost run into his chest; it's hauntingly quiet, and I swear that I can feel the rapid beating of his heart.

His eyes are wide, and slightly red--

Red.

Tears.

There are tears in his eyes.

My heart stops.

He takes a step back.

Everything comes to a halt.

"Mary..." he breathes. And he casts his gaze out over the water, black as the night above, with the silver moon's reflection stretched across like a path that'll lead him anywhere other than here.

His chest rises and falls quickly.

His eyes are glazed over.

"I... I don't know how to tell you this, but I suppose there's no real way. And I just-- God," he whispers. "Look, look... I feel like you're the only real friend I have. And I've been keeping this from you; it's so hard to keep it from you. You're the only part of my life that makes sense, at the moment. And I don't want to ruin that, you know? But at the same time I need you, I need to tell you, and..."

He drags his feet, looking all around, as if he's lost his mind. His shoes kick at the grass, creating little holes in the earth, spreading mud everywhere.

And suddenly, everything about tonight; from the gentle hum of the radio, to our endless laughter, to the feeling I had when his hand touched mine on the ferris wheel--