My morning alarm rings through my messy bedroom and I flip over only to hit something hard on the other side of my bed. I jump up quickly as my eyes search that side of my bed. Harry. How could I forget? My alarm continues to ring through my room and Harry rolls over a small groan releasing from his lips. As much as the sound is annoying me, I let it ring purposely trying to wake up the sloth next to me. Plus I know he has a killer hangover so this is just funny.
“Harmony! Turn the mother fucking alarm off.” He growls Deeping his head into my pillow trying to block out the noise.
I reach over to my bed side table and click the okay button, making the annoying noise come to an end. I sit on the edge of my bed staring over at the boy laying in it. The scent of alcohol, mint and cologne swarm around my nose.
“Get up.” I order pushing him lightly on the shoulder.
“Fuck off.” He groans and I roll my eyes at him. He is clearly not a morning person. I don’t blame him, I wouldn’t want to get out of bed with the killer hangover I know he has.
“You have to go to work Harry.” I tell him standing from my bed to walk over to his side. His messy curls are spread across my white pillow. His face is soft, no tension working up in it. He looks calm, soothing nearly. I want to curl right up next to him. But I can’t and I won’t.
“No, you have to go to work.” He flutters his eyes open, looking up to me while I stand next to ‘his’ side of the bed. I try not to look into his hypnotising eyes, glowing brighter in the morning.
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes at him again and walk towards the bathroom.
“You know maybe we can just hang out today?” He suggests and my heels turn me around quickly, looking directly into his eyes.
“What?”
“You heard me.” He smirked pulling himself up against the headboard.
“I-I don’t think that’s a go-..” I fumble for words but he cuts me off.
“Harmony live a little.” He chuckles and I scowl him. I live, just not on days where I am supposed to be working.
“I can’t just skip work.”
“Yes you can.” He rolls his eyes at me this time.
“I’m still not sure about this...” I mumble, mentally weighing the pros and cons. I do want to get to know Harry, but I can’t just skip work. I’m not sure if I am mentally prepared to spend a full day with this bipolar man. But then again, I can’t help but feel drawn to the idea of spending the day with Harry.
“Come on.” He chuckles again, running his hand through his messy bed hair.
“Fine.” I say a smile growing onto my face. I couldn’t resist. Spending the day with Harry intrigues me. Even though I know it’s going to be more difficult then I expect.
“Cool.” He smirks.
“Cool.” I reply before walking over to the bathroom. “Panadol and water is down stairs for that killer hangover I know you have.” I wink before shutting the door behind me.
What have I gotten myself into?
After showering, getting changed into a pretty casual outfit (outfit on the side) and doing my makeup and hair. I make my way down stairs with my charged phone in hand. I skilfully text Lea telling her I won’t be in today while walking down the stairs at the same time.
“You know one day you’re going to fall down those stairs.” Harry mocks from the kitchen and my foot skips a step.
The impact of the metal stairs burn in to me as I tumble down the last few remaining stairs. My phone falls out of my hands and I hear it slide across the floor. My knees and arms are burning, I can already feel the fresh scars starting to form. I am literally the clumsiest person ever.
“Fuck.” I groan pulling my body up so I am sitting at the end of the stairs.
“Shit Harmony.” Harry curses as he rushes to my side, his arm wrapping around my waist for support.
My eyes open wide when I feel the blood pouring from my knee. My arms are scratched but there’s one cut there that won’t stop bleeding.
My arm. Her arm. They look the same and I can’t stop the tears from forming in my eyes.
“Are you alright?” Harry rushes assessing the cuts on my body.
I try so hard to keep the tears in, but my eyes are drawn to the cut on my arm which reminds me of her.
“Harmony?” He asks again making me look up to meet his glowing green eyes. A single tear rolls out of my eye and his thumb immediately catches it, making my heart burst into a thousand pieces.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to curse you.” He chuckles lightening the mood. A small smile finds its way to my lips as I sit still, realising Harry’s arm is tightly snug around my waist.
“I’m okay.” I smile, avoiding looking at my own cut arm.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up” He smiles and I think I see dimples. His smile is so sympathetic and real that it makes me fall into him. His being calm, nice and caring which makes me question his motifs a bit…
He helps me up to my feet and I waddle over to the kitchen, -picking my now cracked phone up from the ground- where the first aid kit is stored. He orders me to sit on the stool and I oblige, letting my legs hang loosely over the chair. He rustles around in the first aid kit and begins to clean my cuts, laying band aids on them. I flinch when he cleans and band aids the one on my arm, looking away the whole time. He cleans me up quickly and my mind starts to wonder on how he is so good at this.
“Where did you learn to clean up cuts so good?” I question, my mouth working before my brain.
“Experience.” He mumbles and I raise my eyebrow, my mind taking me back to the street watching him bash someone to death. My body immediately brings myself an inch away from him. Why do I keep doing this? Scaring myself away from him but falling into him.
“What’s wrong?” He questions, searching my face for any type of expression. But I keep It straight.
“Nothing.”
“Harmony.” He warns and I shut my mouth before it tells him the real reason.
“It’s nothing.” I warn him back. He rolls his eyes at me and packs the first aid kit up.
“You know you really should stop doing that.” I mock him, remembering the time he told me it was a bad habit to roll my eyes.
“You should really stop being secretive.” He calls me out and this time I’m the one rolling my eyes.
“Why wouldn’t you look at your arm?” He asks, surprising me.
“What do you mean?” I act stupid, pretending not to know that I was intentionally doing it. I think he has had tried to have this conversation with me many times, but I just won’t tell him.
“You know what I mean.” He tells me sliding the first aid kit away from him, turning to me.
“No, I don’t.” I lie again, jumping off the stool flinching at the soreness already shooting through my body.
“You know I’m not dumb. I am putting together the dots. You might as well tell me.” he mumbles the last part and I turn to look at him.
He couldn’t possibly be catching on. There are no dots to connect. I hate how he feels like he can just barge into my life and get to know everything about me. It doesn’t work like that.
‘What dots? There’s nothing to catch on to.” I lower my voice, trying to calm myself down.
“Your reaction to your arm, the locket, why you’re so secretive. Just tell me.” He basically begs and I feel the tension fly away from the room.
I can’t tell him…. Can I?
