Speak |h.s. a.u.|

Chapter 86

Harry woke up, a gasp releasing from his chest as he looked around the room. Annabelle wasn't beside him, and he was too out of it to remember what had been happening with Annabelle lately. He couldn't focus on that, after having a similar nightmare to the one he had when they were broken up for a while.

In only his boxers, he walked around the apartment to find Annabelle. He noticed it was three in the morning, and he found her sleeping on the couch, which made his chest hurt. He was tempted to wake her up, or to pick her up and carry her to their bed, he so badly wanted to hold her, but he decided to take a few deep breaths and sit on the opposite side of the couch for a while. Every few minutes, he would look down at her to make sure she was peacefully sleeping and that her chest was still moving up and down slowly. When the sun began to rise, he decided to go back to bed, but he only slept for a couple minutes.

Annabelle woke up around nine a.m., and she had to get ready for work, for her shift at the flower shoppe started at eleven and ended at five. She checked on Harry, seeing his back facing her when she peeked into the bedroom, and was off to work in an hour.

There were hardly any days when Annabelle would come home from work in a horrible mood, especially in such a bad mood that she was crying, but today was one of those days. A customer had decided to tell Annabelle that she didn't deserve the job that she had. Of course, Annabelle wouldn't defend herself by speaking, so she took everything the customer said to heart. One of her coworkers, Eliza, tried to cheer Annabelle up by inviting Annabelle to dinner with her and her boyfriend. She didn't start crying until she opened the door and seen waffle sleeping on one of Harry's dirty t-shirts in the floor.

Annabelle cooked dinner, but she didn't eat, her appetite had disappeared when Harry did. Hearing the television in the bedroom turn on, she decided to go in there to find comfier clothes to change into. Harry seemed to be sleeping, so she grabbed an old sweater of his from the closet and slipped it on with an old pair of leggings that were worn out, but that only made them comfier.

When she smelled the sleeves and recognized the scent, she wanted to cry again, and wanted to hit her head against the wall, so she sat on the kitchen counter and took a couple of pain killers instead, relieving the headache and slight back cramps.

After Harry woke up, he walked into the kitchen to see if Annabelle had cooked anything. He tried to ignore the sad girl on the counter, he grabbed a plate from the cupboard and sat it beside the stove. He rested his hands on the edge of the counter and stretched out his back, his chest trying to pull him closer to her. She watched him through her eyelashes, but shifted her vision to the floor when she realized he was trying to avoid her.

He couldn't anymore, though.

Harry's feet came into Annabelle's vision, and her heartbeat sped up. His hands found their place on the counter again, one on each side of her. Not knowing what to say, he simply watched her and was entertained by her eyes trying to look everywhere except for his face.

"Annabelle," Harry mumbled, his voice low, making her eyes drift up to finally meet his. She tried to blink a few times so the tears building up would go away, but Harry caught them with his thumb instead. She couldn't help but to gently wrap her arms around his shoulders, and he slowly wrapped his around her waist.

Annabelle let out a small breath after feeling him again, and cried a little bit more, and felt the guilt in her chest grow. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and held her breath in fear if what would happen next. What if he yelled at her for crying and acting so pitiful?

Only, when Harry pulled her closer and hugged her even tighter, did she release her breath and repeat his actions.

"Me too." Harry's voice was thick, as if he wanted to cry as well, feeling his heart swell from her words and remembering how peaceful his mind felt when he was holding her.

A kiss to the forehead was Harry's way of soothing her sadness, allowing his lips to linger for many moments, then repeating those actions one more time.

"I can't sleep, and I just need you to be with me, I just need you," Harry shook his head as he spoke and he pressed his forehead gently against Annabelle's.