Psycho(logy) *under construction*

6. Raindrops On Roses...

I woke up and groggily lifted my head from the pillow. I wasn't in my room and my heart began to race. Then, what had happened yesterday came rushing back to me and I fell back onto the bed. I began to stare blankly up at the ceiling, and trace shapes with my eyes onto the surfaces. I stopped when I realized I had to get up eventually. I stood up and immediately drew back from the cold touch of the floor. Looking down, I searched for any form of covering for my feet.

Then, a thought struck me. Hadn't I fallen asleep with my shoes on? A smile erupted onto my face. It brought me back to the times I would fall asleep at Harry's house and he would take off my shoes and drape a blanket over me, every single time. I sighed; I would always remember and cherish those moments. Those little things that made me fall for the curly haired boy with a golden heart.

That summer was the day that I had lost him. I shook my head out of those morose thoughts and hopped -due to the frigidness of the floor -over to my bags. I grabbed something comfortable; jeans and my favorite alpaca sweater. I untied my bun and my loose curls fell around my shoulders. I searched the room for my flats, but couldn't find them. Finally, I went to one of my bags and grabbed a pair of TOMS. Checking the time, 10:27, I opened the door and poked my head outside. I caught a glimpse of an ankle leaving the hallway.

After following it, I ended up in the kitchen, where my breath hitched in my throat.

His back was turned away from me, but I could see his shoulders; broad and relaxed, and his arms; tan and built. They flexed as he reached for something across the counter and I couldn't resist biting my lip. He must have sensed my presence for he turned his head and smiled lazily at me.

"Mornin'." He spoke in a gruff, morning voice.

"Good morning Harry." I looked over his shoulders and saw that he was buttering toast. "What'cha making?"

"French toast, it's still your favorite right?"

I beamed up at him. He remembered! I nodded excitingly and he chuckled.

I looked up at him and took in his features. There was a faint smile still playing on his lips. He wiped his tongue over his bottom lip and began humming. His nose twitched as he opened the container of cinnamon and I couldn't help but giggle. At the sound of my laughter, a full smile appeared on his face. Then, I looked up at his eyes; they were still a bright green that reminded me of freshly cut grass on a cool spring morning. However, I noticed dark circles under them, making him look tired.

Worried, I tugged on his hands to stop his movements. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at my hand hooked in his. I had almost forgotten how big they were.

"Are you alright?" I asked him as he stared confusingly at me.

He nodded dumbfounded. "Yeah, why?"

"Well," When I reached up and traced the circles under his eyes, they fluttered shut. "You have bags under your eyes. Did you not sleep well last night?"

He opened his eyes and a pained expression crossed his features. "Uh... No. I couldn't sleep... for some reason. I don't know."

"Are you sure?" I asked, unconvinced.

He cast me an insincere smile. "Yeah."

"You can tell me anything, you know that right?" I whispered to him, my eyes pleading him to tell me more. But I couldn't pry any further, if he didn't want to tell me he didn't have to.

"I do."

And with that the tension was cleared. I guess it always was this easy when it came to Harry. He turned around and began humming a familiar tune.