DESTITUTE || HS ✔️

four

As the days went on, and the time of Harry living with me temporarily turned into a permanent vacation, we grew exceptionally closer. Our physical bodies were in need of being with each other every second of the day, besides the time of when I was working. Harry had finally went out and got a job, an open position at the library had caught his eyes since he was so infatuated with my small novels at home.

And I was happy for him, truly.

Harry was getting approvingly better with everything, especially his alcohol. I on the other hand, was still a struggling mess of wanting to take the poison into my hands, but Harry had helped me on it. He helped me get through it, and luckily, all the poisoned bottles were all gone and thrown in the nearby dumpster, considering that they all were empty.

Harry was planning out on moving, I knew it. He thought that I would be getting sick of him even though he was taking care of himself in the house and doing his part of the chores and whatnot. That was such a lie his mind had told him because the loneliness for the past few years had been achingly terrible, and I needed somebody like him to come and blow everything away. My eyes had opened and realized so many unnecessary things when Harry came in and swooped everything in, and for once, I thought it was a really good thing.

I didn't want him to move, whatsoever, and in my mind, I had thought that was very obvious.

I was happy that he did enjoy his job, though. Harry would come home countless times in his ordinary clothes, which was an utter surprise to me because I always thought the libraries had their own work uniforms for employees, but my mind was changed. Harry would be ecstatic while tired when he came home, telling me about either the bitchy customer stories or how he even got a break. I guessed where he had previously worked in all of his only two jobs that he did not have a small little rest period to eat and whatnot.

He did tell me that he once worked at a bakery before the whole incident of him becoming homeless. It was only for two weeks of a job, but Harry said he did get good money though, and that was the great thing about it. The people were also, but there were no fucking breaks, he had put it. And then, I sat at the kitchen counter at two in the morning, explaining to him that he only had a three hour shift, so why the hell would they give him a break? Maybe it was just me.

I did visit him one day at the library, already having trouble because I could not find the damn library that morning. But, I had found my way with the maps on my phone luckily, and then, I just had to find Harry. Finally, I did find him with books already toppling over his head as he was bent down in the same old black skinny jeans, trying to put books on the bottom shelf. I knew, well heard it was him when I heard the small profanities coming out of his mouth and then a loud crash from the top shelf.

"Fucking hell. Why the fuck would this damn librarian put the fuckin-"

"Harry?" I question, trying to hold in my laughter by covering my mouth with my hand. "You okay, there?"

As I walk closer, I got a better look of the mess that was made, and noticed he appearance. The usual black skinny jeans with rips at the knees clothe Harry's long legs. A blue beanie lay atop his head, covering part of his slightly longer curls, and a black sweater matches his black jeans. He had got some new clothes lately with his job money and all, as well as the clothes I had bought for him a while back. Harry tried to give me my money back and deny it, but I made him get clothes because he had been wearing the same pair for six years, getting in the washing machines whenever he had the chance. Harry told me he had the money, but just a little.

"Fuck this, why the hell would she put the fucking books at the top?" He stands up, muttering more profanities to himself and dismissing my question.