Who made you this way and do they still matter?
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"You're right, Maya. I don't know what grey is. I never did." Harry said and I bit down on my lip. His tone was laced with what appeared to be sadness, but I didn't fully believe so.
"Harry..." I didn't know what to say, so I just spoke his name to draw his attention back to me because his eyes were somehow focused on the floor.
He took a deep breath before taking the word again, "You see, When I was a little boy, everything in the world fell into either of these two categories: wrong or right. Black or white. It reflected on my personality as I grew up, apparently."
"I understand." I nodded.
I finally got aware that I was still standing awkwardly on the bed so I jumped down and sat on the edge of it. I expected Harry to come in especially when I sensed an upcoming heartfelt conversation but he stood still on the door, leaning his body on the door frame for support.
"But I still kind of use these colours because they're elegant, nonetheless." He shrugged.
For a moment, I thought he was just saying those things to kind of cool down the tension that sparkled between us earlier that day, but I shook the thought away, assuming he was not that type of people.
"All right. But I have the exact opposite problem." I admitted.
"How so?" He asked. He looked a bit uncomfortable, as if he didn't want to be there, as if he was forced to come here and find a better closure to our conversation.
"Can we go outside first?" The very anticipated question was finally spoken. Harry made it clear now that he did not feel comfortable in my room, or in my presence, but I couldn't figure out why.
"I'm safer here." I stated, looking down. I didn't want to go out. It was nearing ten in the morning and there were so many people on the beach. I couldn't risk it.
With a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips and a chuckle, he said, "Nice choice of words...Safe?"
"Yes. I feel safer here." I repeated, knowing he was making fun of me. But he didn't know me nor what I had to go through. I was not ready to have another panic attack in front of people again. I was safer in my room. At least it was the only place where I didn't have the immense urge and need of changing the person other people thought I was.
"I don't think your mother would think so." He took his bottom lip between his teeth, scratching the back of his neck. I totally forgot about my mother, and to be completely honest, I didn't think she would have minded if Harry stayed.
For a moment I thought about insisting until he finally surrenders but I couldn't come up with a way to explain to Harry the reason why I only used to go outside during the late nights or the very early mornings. That was going to take a lot of time, and he would probably not understand me, correctly at least.
"Whatever suits you. Let's go breathe some fresh air." I sighed, starting to get anxious. I tried to remember what my doctor said during our last session. I just had to breathe. Being around people is not that hard, or so I tried to convince myself.
Harry and I left the house after having a quick chat with my mom. He suggested a café near his cottage, telling me it had the most delicious coffee of all time, but I immediately turned down his offer and suggested we should go on a walk by the ocean instead. He asked me why and when I did not answer, of course, he let it go so easily.
"So... What should we talk about now?" Harry questioned, putting both of his hands in his pockets. Apparently he had forgotten why we got out of the room in the first place. He probably wasn't paying attention to what I was saying and I felt a pang of pain building in my heart.
