Red [h. styles]

Nineteen

19

Two weeks after the storm, there was utter destruction.

"So you're happy to be back home?" The interviewer asked, and Harry nodded back at him.

Jena smiled at the screen, content with the knowledge that as soon as it was over, he'd be home. She was already in his apartment, waiting for him anxiously.

"Oh, yes," on-screen Harry agreed, "I'm ready to see Jena again. It's not for long, I head for Europe in a week, but the break is really nice."

"You've missing Jena a lot, have you?" The interviewer questioned, and Jena smiled when Harry blushed.

"Definitely. She's been missing me, too. Jena gets a bit... paranoid when I'm gone for too long."

Jena's breath caught in her throat. Paranoid. Paranoid? He seriously called her paranoid on live TV? She turned off the television in anger, hands tugging at her hair.

She sat curled on the couch for another half hour, consumed with anger and sadness. It wasn't a big deal, not really, and the logical side of her brain told her that. But Jena couldn't help but be crushed at his choice of words, and when Harry entred the apartment, he could immediately tell that she wasn't pleased.

"Paranoid? Paranoid? You called me fucking paranoid!" Jena rounded on him, her voice an unearthly shriek.

"That's one way to be welcomed home," Harry muttered.

"Argh!" Jena cried, slamming her lips into his. For as mad as she was, she had missed him terribly, and needed to feel his body on hers.

When they pulled away for air, Jena went back to being angry, stepping away from him in a huff of rage.

"What were you thinking?"

"You were being paranoid!" Harry defended, and Jena rolled her eyes.

"You think I don't know that? I can be bat-shit crazy at times! But that doesn't mean you tell the whole world that I'm paranoid! Do you know how much crap I've gotten this hour alone for that?"

"What did you want me to say?" Harry asked, his voice rising to match hers.

"I don't know! Concerned, anxious, lonely, anything but paranoid! Do you know what kind of light that paints me in?" Jena yelled, tears pricking her eyes.

"You're the one always telling me to choose my words carefully, and now you're upset with me for doing just that?" Harry roared.

"There's a time for all things! And that was not the time complete honesty!" Jena defended.

"Oh, really now, you're going to hold me to different standards? You say I'm cheating on you then expect me to forgive you after a half-assed apology, but I'm supposed to beg your forgiveness for something you wanted me to do in the first place?" Harry bellowed.

"Don't try to make this about me!" Jena screamed back. "I'm not the one who left for so long!"

"I leave all the time, it's my job!" Harry shot back. "I'm following my dream! You're my girlfriend, you should be supporting me!"

"I do support you!" Jena spat at him. "But not when you call me paranoid! Watch your choice of language!"

"Oh shut up about that!" Harry pulled at his hair in frustration. "For once in your life, stop being such a freak and see things from my point of view!"

It was like Jena deflated, all the life suddenly sucked out of her.

"You're the only one who never called me that." Jena said quietly.

"God, Jen, I'm sorry," Harry said, immediately realizing where he went wrong.

Jena didn't respond, just walked towards the door with her head hung low. She didn't want to do something she'd regret in her sadness, but she had never felt more crushed.