Always

Chapter 62

I don’t know how long Harry and I laid there in a numb silence.  It was strange how often that seemed to happen with Harry; it was so easy to get lost in each other that we never noticed the passing hours.  Usually, it was because we were having such a good time, content to just be in each others’ company.

Other times, though, we struggled to hold onto reality because of a more malignant cause, such as right now.  Time slipped by us as we tried not to feel, but feeling anyway.  Sometimes, it was one of us hurting and the other comforting, sometimes the other way around.  The worst, though, were times like this, when we both were feeling the many levels of emotion and still looking to each other for comfort.

As awful as it was, I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to go through it with.  He was my rock, my foundation, and he was all I needed to get through the worst of situations.  I only hoped I could be strong enough to do the same for him, because even though he would never admit it, I knew he needed to lean on me, too. 

We hadn’t moved from our original position, only shifting enough to run our fingers over each others skin in an attempt to soothe what we couldn’t with words.  My hand had found its way to his neck, running slowly across the silky skin covering it.  I watched as my fingers trailed light patterns over it, feeling the muscles and veins running taught beneath his skin. 

I could feel his fingers contracting and relaxing on my lower back, the pads of them just barely grazing my skin beneath my t-shirt.  His eyes were closed but I knew he was awake; his breathing had yet to even out and was still fairly shallow, opposite of the deep, slow, even breaths he took when he slept. 

I tried to think of any possible words to say that could make him feel better, because I knew he was feeling a mess of emotions right now.  I wanted him to know that what had happened wasn’t his fault, but more importantly, I wanted to know that he was going to be okay.

Tonight’s events had to have brought back traumatic memories of that awful night four years ago, which in my opinion was much more important to deal with than guilt he did not deserve over Colt.  He had been doing so well lately in terms of dealing with his father; he was finally opening up, sharing details, looking back with a happy nostalgia rather than a aching sadness when he spoke of him, and the last thing I wanted was for him to revert back into that dark place. 

I let my fingers dance softly across his cheek, causing him to open his eyes slowly to look at me.  I bet my lip gently before releasing it to speak.

“Harry,” I whispered.  “Do you wanna talk about it?”  I knew he would know I meant his father rather than Colt; it was weighing on him clear as day even now as he gazed at me with pained eyes.

He was silent for a long time, examining the different features of my face while he was lost in his own head.  I waited patiently, hoping he would want to talk.  He was so quiet in his nature that when he did share his feelings with me, I remembered every moment.  He took a deep breath, sucking his lips into his mouth before making eye contact me and letting out a heavy sigh.

“I never actually saw my dad’s accident,” he started slowly, his deep voice reverberating through me.  I stayed silent, eyebrows pinching together as I watched him, encouraging him to continue. 

“My mom wouldn’t let me… I had to stay home with Gemma while she went to the accident but he… he was already gone when she got there.”  I could feel the heavy expression on my face as I took in his careful words, feeling the pain dripping off his voice at not even having the chance to say goodbye to his father.

“That had to be how it was, though… all the lights and the panic and the glass… I just…” he took a shaky breath, his voice cracking slightly.  “I can’t help but be thankful he didn’t… suffer through that before going, you know? Like he died right away so at least his last few minutes weren’t complete… chaos.”