My eyes begin to feel heavy under the weight of tiredness and it's almost impossible to keep them open any longer. Harry is late, as usual, and I'm still up waiting for him, as usual. I know I should have gone to bed an hour ago, but that was when the excitement of seeing him again was still keeping me awake. He was supposed to be home three hours ago, and at this point, I'm too tired to wait anymore. I turn off the TV with a sigh and begin slowly making my way to our bedroom.
Halfway down the hall, I hear the front door open. I turn around to see Harry, who's smile immediately brightens when he sees me staring back at him, those familiar dimples indenting his cheeks. I try to smile back, but I'm too tired from lack of sleep and from waiting, that I can't manage anything close to happiness.
Harry's smile quickly fades. "I'm sorry babe, the flight got delayed. I wish I could've been home sooner, but-"
"It's fine Harry. Can we talk about this in the morning? I'm not in the mood to talk about anything right now, I'm too tired," I say before walking into the bedroom and crawling into bed. I feel a dip in the bed next to me as Harry shifts his body closer to me and wraps one of his large arms around my waist.
-
I wake up to sunlight streaming in from the large windows and I reach across the bed expecting to feel Harry, but he's not there. It doesn't take me long to realize where he is when the smell of bacon hits my nose. I toss the covers off of my body and make my way to the kitchen.
"Morning babe," Harry beams when he sees me enter the kitchen, smiling at me with that same bright smile he had last night. "I made breakfast." He sets a plate full of bacon, scrambled eggs and toast on the counter. Then he sets a glass of orange juice next to the plate and I can't help but wonder why Harry is doing all of this.
"What's the special occasion?" I ask curiously, sitting down and staring at the plate of food in front of me. Harry has cooked for me before, but it's usually followed by news, and it's never the good kind.
Harry turns away from me to tend to a pan full of eggs where I notice that his shoulders are now slumping over the stove, as if he's anticipating something that's about to happen. But I've seen this enough times, that he doesn't even have to tell me, I can already know what he's trying to hide, what he doesn't want to tell me.
"You're leaving aren't you?" I say just above a whisper.
I can see the muscles in Harry's back visibly tense at my question. He remains silent for a few moments, still staring at the stove.
"Yes," he starts, "we have to fly to New York tomorrow, and I- I was going to tell you later, after we'd spent the day together. I didn't want to see you crying because I was leaving again, I just wanted you to be happy today, and-"
"That's the thing Harry," I say, trying to keep my tone from rising. "I'm not happy anymore. I spend most of my nights crying myself to sleep because you're not here with me. You're not physically here. The phone calls and skype calls just aren't enough anymore."
Harry finally turns his attention back to me as tears begin falling from my eyes, and I stare at Harry through blurry eyes waiting for him to say something, anything, but he doesn't. Harry moves to the other side of the counter across from me where he keeps his eyes downcast toward the sink. His hands move to grip the edge of the counter, his knuckles turning white in the process, before responding quietly, "So, what are you trying to say?"
"I don't know, Harry. I think we need to take a break."
Silence falls over us, neither one of us making eye contact with the other. Harry grips the counter harder, and I can tell that he's trying to keep his composure, like he's trying not to cry or trying not to hit something.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this life, and I'm sorry that I can't always be here, but I love you (Y/N). I'll always love you, and all I care about is your happiness, so if you want to leave, then I won't stop you."
I walk back into our bedroom (I guess it's just Harry's bedroom now) to get dressed and to release the rest of the tears that I'd been holding back. Part of me wants Harry to walk in and beg me to stay, to do everything in his power to keep me from walking out the door, but another part of me knows that I have to do this not only for me, but for my happiness.
I put on a pair of jeans and a shirt before wiping my eyes and grabbing my sweater and walking back out into the hall, past the kitchen and straight to the front door. Before I can turn the knob, I feel a strong hand grab my wrist. I turn my head to see Harry looking at me with red-rimmed eyes.
"Promise me you'll come back?" Harry pleads through quivering lips.
"I can't make that promise," I say looking down at the floor and then back up to Harry.
Harry's eyes travel down to where his hand is holding my wrist and begins rubbing it lightly with his thumb before reluctantly letting go. I take a small step toward Harry and reach up to kiss him on the cheek one last time. I pull back with wet lips to see that Harry's cheeks are now stained with tears.
"Bye Harry," I say, opening up the door and taking a step out.
"Bye (Y/N)," Harry says quietly as I close the door behind me.
