Hey Angel. //h.s//

//It's All Okay//

//Grace//

'You aren't that hard to find, surely you remember doll?' his venomous lips reply. His eyes wander down my body, scanning every inch. Even when fully covered, I may as well be naked around him. Despite my full knowledge of being completely clothed, I subconsciously look down at my body and instantly wrap my arms around myself.

At this point I've forgotten Harry's standing right beside me, the proximity between us shrinking by the second. My uncomfortableness becomes apparent when he sends me a confused look. I can't tell him that my inescapable past was stood in front of me, so instead I shoot him a glare and ignore his reply. My eyes roll back to the smirking figure still standing there, as if made of stone. Why now has he decided to find me? I've been gone for 8 months. I left on 24th March, my birthday as a matter of fact. The first I have ever spent alone. I was tired and weak. Why has he come for me now? He has had 8 months, why is this his opportune moment?

I had looked into housing, I had my university savings that helped (he had persuaded me not to go, he was to be the breadwinner.) I bought a new phone, but not before saving the more important ones. Not that my family's number wasn't engraved into my memory. I had found a place that was approximately 25 miles from our flat. But it wasn't ours anymore, it was his. It hurt. Oh god, it hurt. He had classes all day, so I knew I could get out. I packed one bag, there was nothing else worth salvaging. I arrived at my flat, it was barely furnished but it worked. I sat on the sofa and cried. Knees pressed against my chest and hair stuck to my tear stained cheeks. I lost who I was and I was intent on finding her again. I was so close, I could see her in the light. But what's the sun without a shadow?

'Harry well done for tonight, but I'll finish up here, you really should get going. Go celebrate.' I say trying to convince him into leaving, I never lost eye contact with him.
'No.' My eyes shoot over to the refusing boy, widening at his blunt reply. I was waiting for the tantrum to spill out of him, but I was wrong. He just stood there, angrily.
'I think she said for you to go son' he spits through his clenched teeth. Harry's balled fists now a pale white, displaying the numbness that is frequently becoming more obvious.

'No.' Harry repeats as his gradual paces bring him closer to the angry man completing the triadic structure we have now formed.
'I'm not leaving, you are.' Harry states bluntly. I immediately step in between the two men, preventing any sudden movements.

'Go' I say, as my hands push equally at both of their chests, creating more of a distance. My eyes avoiding each male. I suddenly feel a coldness in the air from where a body once stood, I gaze over at Harry whose head is now bowed whilst escorting himself towards the edge of the stage and down the stairs that were connected to left corner of the stage.
'Not you.' I say loudly, catching both their attention.

His eyes flood with anger as I order him to leave, I know he won't do anything in public, which is why I felt more confident than I should have. He takes one last glance at me again, eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown. He shakes the collar of his jacket before he scuffs his feet to the door. He's going to come back, he's found me and he can find me again. I believed that I had covered my tracks properly, I guess they weren't good enough, I contradict.

My knees finally give out from under me, cradling my knees into my body, just like I had on my birthday. That was the last day I cried. I hold my hands to my face as the tears that were threatening to spill finally cascade down my cheeks. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to soothe myself, he won't find you again, he'll give up.

At this point, Harry had rushed over to me, embracing me in his arms. Here I am crying into the chest of someone I've known for like 4 hours, rocking back and forth. He's continually hushing my cries, whispering into my whimpers that he's gone, that my monster has disappeared.

But he hasn't gone, has he? He'll always be there, carefully one step behind me. Slowly creeping up behind me. I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, analysing every shadow, avoiding those eyes.

Imagine it like this, you are holding a handful of sand. This sand is your happiness, you're squeezing it tightly just because you never want to let it go, not even a grain. Yet, what happens when you hold sand too tight? It slips out. However it does this slowly, slowly enough that you don't notice until it's just an empty fist you're clenching. No one ever advises you to be gentle; they are oddly specific about this, you have to mould your hand into a cup shape. That way it'll stay with you, all of it. So why is it, that this is never mentioned to us? Is it because we are too naive to listen? That our ears disconnect when all sense of reality and responsibility are mentioned. I can finally admit that I'm sick and tired of losing. Don't I deserve to win just this once? What do you even win? Respect? Love? Freedom? I don't know but I'm bored of it all, I just wanted to not feel the need to depend on anyone.

But of course I can't say any of this out loud, so I merely mutter a 'thank you' as he continues the embrace.
I gather my stuff together and begin to stumble towards the door as I hear the piano keys being tapped gracefully. I turn once more and see the brown curls peaking above the piano.

There is no upper hand,
I'm giving you mine,
It doesn't have to end up wasting your time,
There's things that I could say,
But here in my way,
I just wanna let you know,
That's all okay.

'What was that?' I ask him, slightly smiling at the lyrics.
'Uh, it's nothing.' He murmurs quietly. I drop my bag on the floor and return to the piano, sitting next to the boy.
'Play it again, please' I feel my cheeks prickle with the crimson that I desperately tried to avoid.

He begins playing the tune once more and I close my eyes. He begins repeating the song, however this time I join him singing.

There is no upper hand,
I'm giving you mine,
It doesn't have to end up wasting your time,
There's things that I could say,
But here in my way,
I just wanna let you know,
That's all okay.

As my eyes re-open I look to my left at the boy sitting next to me, with a smile on his face, exposing the dimples that I never noticed before. I was too busy rendezvousing with my 'past'.

'I have to go.'