i love you, nora jane [h.s.]

9.

"If I show you who I am, please do not run as my walls come tumbling down around you." -Harry's journal.

.....

"What do you write in your journal?" asked Nora Jane the following morning with her head propped atop my chest. "Stories?"

"Yeah, stories," I mumbled, wiping the sleep from my eyes. The curtains were already drawn back, letting the morning sun pour in. I blinked many times before my vision fully focused on her.

"Fiction or nonfiction?"

I half smiled, too exhausted to show any other emotion. My fingers caressed her face, slowly tracing an invisible pathway from her cheek to her chin. "I don't know. The line between the two is blurred."

Sometimes I write about you when there's an ache in my chest that makes any ounce of oxygen hard to grasp, I thought. She was unaware, completely ignorant. She flashed a nervous grin, pushing herself upright.

"Can you tell me one of your stories?" Nora Jane pressed, crossing her legs together against the sheets.

I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to tell her about the dreams and the past and the hurt. But I couldn't bring myself to spill. There are people that come into your life that you wish you could share the world with, but you bite your tongue in fear that they will run when you open your insecurities to them. I didn't want her to run or be frightened by me. She was the only person I wanted to stay.

There was a story I wanted her to hear, though. I felt it was for her own good; that maybe she would get the hint before it was too late to change her mind about me.

"Once upon a time," I began, which made her laugh. My lips curled around my teeth when she covered her mouth with one hand.

"I'm sorry," she let out a sharp laugh. "Please continue."

I nodded, placing my hands behind my head. I trained my eyes on the ceiling. "Once upon a time, there was this little girl. She was innocent, sweet, beautiful. Her skin was dark and unharmed, like the silk ribbon she always wore in her hair. One day, she met a boy. He wasn't familiar to her. He was rough and damaged, and his skin was indented with poisons. She wanted to be with him, just to know why he was sad and why his skin was flawed."

"I don't like this story, Harry."

"The little girl soon got poisons on her own skin. She ripped out her ribbon and gave it to him, to make him happy. But he wasn't. She gave him more and more until there was nothing left of herself to give away. The boy wasn't satisfied. The girl, once strong, was weak and vulnerable. At her lowest point, the boy abandoned her. He ran away and she did not have the strength to chase after him."

Nora Jane stared at her hands. "Fiction or nonfiction?" she merely whispered.

I felt a spark ignite in my chest. "Nonfiction."

"The little girl," Nora Jane said. "What was her name?"

I pulled myself from the bed. "Your family is probably worried about you. I'll get you back to the bakery."

Nora Jane followed me around the apartment as I picked dirty clothes off the floor to wear. I tossed her shoes at her and she nearly missed them.

"Her name, Harry."

I paused by the couch, reaching over for my jacket. I didn't meet Nora Jane's eyes. "L. We must leave it at that."

.....

The ride to the Greene's shop was silent, and Nora Jane wouldn't look in my general direction. As we pulled into the lot and parked, she started to hurry into the building.

"Wait!" I called after her. She paused momentarily until I reached her, grabbing her arm gently in my grip. "Are we okay?"

Nora Jane brushed it off, nodding her head. "Yeah, why wouldn't we be? It's not my place to hold your past against you."

The feeling of bricks weighing down my chest lifted briefly, until Alastair Greene walked out the door.

"Nora Jane, get your ass inside," her father ordered, briskly stepping my way.

"Mr. Greene, is there a problem?" I asked, and was greeted with his hands gripping my shirt.

"Yes, there is, Harry. It's you." I squirmed as he pushed my back against the brick wall of the bakery. "You think you can take my daughter to God knows where? Doing God knows what?"

"Stop it! Get off him!" Nora Jane slapped her father's back multiple times before he released me.

"You watch yourself, Styles. The next time this happens will be the last."

"Is that a threat? Are you threatening me, Alastair?" I clenched my fists, following him back inside. Nora Jane stood in front of me, blocking me from taking a swing at her father.

"Just go home, Harry," she stared at me with pleading eyes. They were glossed over with fresh tears, resembling an unforgiving tidal wave crashing onto the shore. "Please. Go home."

I bit my tongue in an effort to not say anything more and relaxed my hands, letting them hang in defeat by my sides. I shook my head at her, striding back to my car. She stood hugging herself, and then she disappeared in my rear-view mirror as I slammed on the gas.

My mind was reeling. My knuckles turned a pale white on the steering wheel. I cursed Nora Jane's name and punched the dashboard, leaving a stinging sensation coursing through my hand.

I drove to the only place I felt wanted. When I entered the pub, Felix was stretched out in a private booth, watching a football game on the television above his head.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked, shrugging my jacket off.

"Harry, mate! God it's been ages, ay?" He moved slightly to the right, allowing me to take a seat beside him.

"Felix, it's barely noon. Drinking early, are we?"

He laughed it off. "The early bird catches the serpent, or some shit like that. What the hell do birds eat?" He gestured towards the bartender, leaning closer to my ear. "Go get us a round, yeah? You look parched."

Drinking with Felix always left a bad taste in my mouth and a mind full of regrets, but I didn't care. Nora Jane wanted me gone, and maybe I wanted myself to be gone, too. Something washed over me like water and drowned my senses. I couldn't recall how many drinks I tilted back before Felix pointed at someone behind me.

"There," he hissed like a dirty secret. "Beautiful women there. I'm gonna get you laid, mate."

I, in a state of pure euphoria, lazily turned my head to the door, where two women trotted in. Felix kneeled on the seat, motioning for them to join us.

"I don't think I've seen you two around here before," Felix said as they approached the table. "I would never forget those pretty faces."

Their names I couldn't remember. I also didn't remember drinking with them until the evening, slipping my hand up one of their skirts, or inviting her back to my flat.

But I did remember the feeling of waking up to a face that wasn't Nora Jane's.