PREVIOUSLY
"Mum?" I speak, getting her attention so that she would turn around. My heart was racing at the thought of her meeting Harry, the second that she see's his tattoos she will dislike him. I just know it.
I watch her as she turns around slowly, a wet plate still placed in her hands as she looks at me. Then her eyes move to Harry, her mouth opens slightly as if in shock.
That's when the plate falls out of her hands and drops to the floor.
---
"Oh gosh, you scared me!" My mother exclaims, bending down quickly to begin clearing up the shattered plate, as if she doesn't want to make eye contact with me or Harry. I hear her curse quietly under her breath moments later, I can see from the blood that she must have cut her hand on a piece of shattered plate.
"I'll clear that up," I say, bending down to take my mother's place as I sweep up the remaining pieces with a broom. "You go and rest." I tell my mother.
I have never seen my mother as stressed out as she looks right now, it's quite scary if I'm honest. I want to know what's wrong. I just wish that me and her had a mother and daughter relationship, so that I wouldn't have to feel awkward about asking her things.
"I have to go," Harry speaks, his voice sounding rushed. I turn around to say goodbye but he's already outside. I hear the door slam shut and I can't help but feel like I've done something wrong. Why would Ashton just leave out of the blue? Harry is like a puzzle, I just need to find all the pieces to figure him out.
I let out a sigh, leaning against the kitchen counter deep in thought. I guess I could text Harry, I do have his number. But...would that seem too needy? I don't need to know where he is right now, but I want to know why he left.
I walk up the stairs quietly, trying not to wake my mother up. She seems a little strange today, maybe she just isn't feeling well. I'll check on her later. Entering my bedroom, I grab my phone off my bedside table before scrolling through my contacts, finding Harry. I click on it to send him a message.
'Hi," I started the message before quickly erasing it. 'Hey,' I typed. Which is better, hi or hey? I'll go with hey. 'I just wanted to know if you're alright, you left a little out of the blue.' I send the message without waiting to change my mind.
I receive a reply almost instantly.
'So you finally decided to text me' Harry replies. I can sense that he has a smirk on his face while texting that. Seconds later, another one pops up on my phone screen.
'Open your bedroom window' It says. I walk over to my window, confused until I open it. My eyes dart down to the ground, I see a smiling Harry looking up at me. His hair looks even more messy than it did earlier, as if he has run his hands through it many times.
"Can I come in?" He asks. I don't even have to think about answering that question.
"Yeah," I reply, turning around to pick a discarded jumper off the floor. "The front door is unlo-" I say but cut off my words as I look back out of the window. I see that Harry has hoisted himself up onto the flat part of the roof. He carefully treads his way over to my large window, attempting to step inside but he trips and falls onto my floor with a loud 'thud'. I can't help but begin to laugh, watching Harry get up onto his feet. His eyes look down at the floor shyly, as if he's embarrassed about falling over.
"It wasn't that funny," Harry says, even though there is a small smile on his face.
"Okay, sorry," I apologize once I've finally finished laughing. "You know, you could have just used the front door..."
"You could have told me that earlier," Harry speaks, his voice filled with annoyance and I can't help but let out a small laugh. He sits down on my bed, me sitting besides him. He turns his head to face me, as if he is waiting for me to talk.
"Why did you leave?" I start off by asking, hoping to get an honest answer out of the boy sat besides me.
"I had to take a phone call," Harry replies as if he has practised memorizing the words. I give him an unsure look but decide to change the topic. If it's something big, Harry would have told me. At least, that's what I think.
"I'm worried about my mum." I tell him, bringing up what happened just minutes ago. Harry changes his position, sitting cross legged on my bed. I do the same opposite him, so we're facing each other.
"I'm sure she's just tired. Being a doctor is probably a pretty stressful job," Harry speaks.
"Wait...how do you know she's a doctor?" I ask, a confused look filling up my face. I don't recall ever telling Harry that is her job occupation.
"You told me once..." Harry tells me, giving me a confused look. I let out a sigh, resting my hand against my pounding head.
"Sorry, I'm just really tired." I explain, closing my eyes softly.
"You should rest, I'll go." Harry moves himself, standing up from his previous position on my bed. He runs a hand through his already messy hair, as if he wants to make it even more messier.
"You don't have to leave." I say, standing up in front of Harry as I rub my tired eyes with the backs of my hands. I was extremely tired but I didn't want Harry to leave, I wanted him to stay with me.
"I'll go, I have some stuff to do." Harry explains, I raise an eyebrow at the word 'stuff'. It seems like a word people use when they are doing something secret, something that they don't want others to know about.
"Okay, call me later?" I ask, wanting confirmation. I feel like an over the top needy girlfriend, I should stop before Harry becomes pissed off.
"Of course babe," He replies, I smile as he uses the nickname 'babe'. The nickname that I will never be tired of hearing. "I'll show myself out," Harry places a soft, warm kiss to my forehead before pulling away.
Harry makes his way over to the door of my bedroom, he opens it carefully, not wanting to create any noise that may disturb my mother. He looks back at me before leaving, his beautifully coloured eyes meeting my dull coloured, brown ones.
"Get some rest, okay?"
"Okay." I whisper to myself once Harry has left my room, closing the door silently behind him, not before giving me one last smile. I'll never grow tired of seeing his bright eyes.
