the long way home [ h.s. ]

Twenty Two | 22

twenty two | 22

☓

He holds me close as we walk. My arm rests comfortable around his waist; keeping him to me. And it's almost like the two of us belong this way, in our contentment.

He kicks up rocks, sending them flying-- an action which I've discovered to be a habit of his. Now that I think about it, he has many of them. From the way he shakes his head when he laughs, to the squint of his eyes when something captivates his interest.

And I wonder how this-- the two of us, huddled close amidst the afternoon breeze -- ever came to be.

But I don't bother to question good things.

"I'm not going to ask you where we're going," I say, turning my head to look up at him. The sun casts a warm glow across his skin, almost like it gravitates towards him.

I wouldn't blame it for a moment. 

In fact, I'm fairly certain that when it comes to Harry, he'd have the power to stop time with just a single smile.

Cast away each and every shadow, every dark place, with one look.

"Oh, how kind of you, Mary. Respecting my privacy," he smirks. I nudge him in the hip, and a raw, unrestrained laugh erupts from his chest. Then he calms down a bit, and clears his throat. "It's alright. I was about to tell you, anyhow."

My brow furrowed, I watch as he observes our surroundings. He settles his state from the trees to the road. From the sky to the fields. And I realize, as I study him, that he looks slightly nervous.

"I want you to see where I live," he states, squeezing my arm gently. "You don't have to come inside if you don't want to. My father should be home, and I was hoping you could meet him at some point, but if it's--"

"I'd love to meet your father, Harry."

He falls silent.

Looks at me.

Gives a sad smile.

As soon as the words have left my mouth, I feel my voice waver.

"That is... if it's okay. The last thing I want is to intrude, especially with what you're going through. Your life is your life, after all."

He sighs and pulls me closer. I feel the heat radiating through his flannel. The warmth of it-- of him-- gives the sense of coming home. And my body floods with relief; the security of being near to him.

"My life is my life," he agrees. "It just so happens that you're a part of it. And for that, I'm very grateful."

The words hit me with so much force that it's enough to shake the entire earth; to move the highest mountains, to fill the deepest caverns.

And I feel so much guilt inside my heart for the way I acted before. I was uncertain with him.

With Harry.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out, unable to stop myself.

He looks at me strangely.