Aberration

Chapter 38

I retreated back into my room, brushing my teeth and hair before returning back to Harry. The nervous lump in my throat was eager to make it's presence known as I closed the door to Harry's room behind me. He sat, laid back against the headboard of the bed, the lower half of his body tucked under the dense covers. His expression was patient as he watched me slowly pad across the room to him, stopping to stand on the opposite side of the bed. After a couple moments of quiet, he tossed open the covers, signaling me to climb in beside him. I was grateful for our lack of conversation for the moment as I carefully crawled under the covers, watching him silently as he turned off the desk light then joined me back in bed.

The brightness of the moon dimly illuminated the room through the small window in front of the desk. I laid on my back, staring up at the ceiling with my hands placed on my stomach. Despite my previous sleepy state, I was no longer tired. Arguing with Harry had alerted my senses and there was no going back. I watched outside the window, counting the stars that I could see through the tree limbs in hope that maybe I'd fall asleep. After reaching 32 I called it quits and let the sounds of the night take over. I listened as the crickets chirped in harmony, never missing a beat. Most nights, I would find the shrill sound irritating, but tonight was different. Everything was different with Harry. Even just in his presence it was different. I was different. Whether it was a good different or a bad one, I'm not sure. Frankly, I don't think I care.

Just as I began to nod off the low rumble of Harry's voice caught my attention.

"Do you hate me?"

I turned to look at him, my eyebrows creasing. I had thought he was asleep. He was laying on his side facing me, his eyes drooped with a sudden sadness.

"What?"  Was he being serious?

"Do you hate me." he repeated his voice soft and raspy. I could see the gloss in his eyes and my heart gained that familiar ache for the broken boy in front of me. I had never seen Harry cry until recently and it still surprised me. Though he's not the same as he was before, I know some parts of him are still left inside. And the old Harry would've never let himself look like this in front of me. He used to be cocky and arrogant, but I loved him either way. This was a completely other side I've never experienced, and I knew if Harry had the choice whether or not to show it, he wouldn't. But on the contrary, he doesn't have the choice.

I shook my head no, not being able to find the words. His face turned desperate, grabbing my shoulders and turning me onto my side to face him. The bottom lip of his mouth began to quiver and he searched my eyes. "Speak."

"I could never hate you Harry." I said softly, pushing a loose wave of hair off his damp forehead.

"But you did...you did hate me." he continues shakily. I look at him quizzically, urging him to explain.

"When you left. You didn't answer my texts or calls or anything. You didn't say goodbye.." his voice comes out quiet and forced. 

The last part hit me hard. To this day, that's the one thing about my absence for those 2 years that I would give anything to change. To go back to that morning and physically say my goodbyes instead of writing that over dramatic note. I was young and naive, I didn't know any better. But on the other side, I was hurt beyond belief.

"I know Harry, and for that I'm sorry. I thought then that it was for the best but if I had known then what I know now, I would have never acted that way I didn't know that it was making you-" I stopped myself, looking away from his gaze.

"..crazy." he spoke, completing my sentence. We laid in silence for a minute, and though I wasn't matching his eyes I know they were on me. The guilt set up camp in my gut and I knew then that it was another thing I was going to have to haul around.

"I didn't hate you Harry," I spoke softly, meeting his eyes. "I loved you. So, so much. More than you could possibly fathom." I let out a small laugh as I finished the last statement because of how true it was. I loved Harry with all of my being. So much that it hurt. But I know I could describe that to him. It was complicated. We were complicated.

To my surprise, his face fell, hardening as he took in what I said. "Loved?"

I opened my mouth to speak but quickly shut it. No words could suit as a reply. Yes, I did love him. As in past tense. And that's what he's focusing in on. Harry loved me past tense too, but I've seemed to forgotten he loves me present tense too. Harry loves me, and for that I am his obsession. And I know he hasn't come out and said it, but by what Anne's told me, he most likely never will.

I focus back on Harry who's still watching me, waiting for an answer that I'm not sure I can give. I like Harry. A lot. But love him? My insides grow nervous at the words and something inside me tells me that I do love Harry. But I won't let myself love him, I can't love him. Loving him has only gotten me no where but hurt and him mental. I'm poison and I can't infect him anymore than I already have.

I take his cheek in my palm and run my thumb over the prominent bone. He sighs in what I take as contentment and closes his eyes. A small smile eases onto my face as the low sound of his breaths echo through the room. And it suddenly comes to my realization that this is the first time I've slept in Harry's room since our time together 2 years ago. But the familiarity is comforting and I almost cuddle up to Harry in my drowsy state. Instead, I search for his foot underneath the covers with mine, and I find it at the very end of the bed. I wiggle my foot underneath his shin so were touching, needing the small contact. Just his touch is enough to sooth me into sleep. And right before I slipped under, I heard him whisper something that I could quite make out. Then I was asleep.