Harrison Osterfield Imagines

Ghost of You (H.O)

Summary: Harrison refused to acknowledge your presence and no matter how hard you try, you just can't seem to capture his attention. You feel as though you are nothing but a ghost.

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, shitty writing

❀✿ ・゜゜・．＊* ・゜゜・．❀✿

here I am waking up, still can't sleep on your side

Harrison woke up in a haze to the cold winter air flowing through his opened window. He rubbed his eyes and instinctively threw his arm over to the other side of the bed, expecting there to be another person laying down with him. He expected to turn over and see your soft hair draped against your back as you lay asleep. He expected to see you smile and hum awake as he pulled you in close. He expected to hear your laugh as he plastered wet and sloppy kisses all up and down your face. He expected to see you lying in his arms, head on his bare chest as he stared down at you, in all your beauty and glory, wondering how he ever got so lucky. But instead, he reached over to find nothing but a cold, lumpy pillow.

so I drown it out, like I always do

Sighing, Harrison gets up, closes the window and then stumbles along into the kitchen in hopes of having some food left in the fridge for him to eat. He found nothing but a half-empty carton of milk and a six pack of Heineken's. He opted for the Heineken, as it was a popular choice of beverage for him nowadays. As he closed the refrigerator door, he saw you sitting on the counter top, legs falling against the cabinets and your arms crossed with a disappointed and smug look on your face.

"Seriously, you're gonna drink that now?" You nag at him while he grabs a bottle opener from the drawer next to you. He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You shake your head in disgust. "C'mon Harrison, It's 10 am, can't you at least wait till 12?" You plead as you hop off the counter and take a seat next to him at the table. Ignoring you, he gets up from the table and heads back to his room. He starts blasting the TV in hopes of drowning out your disappoint.

there's your coffee cup, lipstick stains fade with time

As Harrison places his beer on the bedside table, he notices your favorite coffee mug sitting there. Confused, he examines it with his fingers and his thumb grazes over the dried out red lipstick stain on the edge. He laughs remembering that he did always like that color on you. He felt it made you look bold, sexy, and fierce. He loved how confident you felt whenever you would wear it, so he encouraged you to wear it all the time, even if you had nowhere to go. The color red always had this strange effect on Harrison where if he saw you wearing it, he instantly became lovey and clingy and wanted nothing more than to just hold you all day and never let you go.

Harrison was taken out of his daze when he heard you speak from the edge of the bed, "You know, you always complained about that mug being my favorite." Raising an eyebrow at you, he looked down to see that the mug was the one you bought when visiting Harry Potter world. It was grey with hints of yellow and black. The mug was covered with the word Hufflepuff and the house emblem all over it. "You used to tell me that I was braver and more adventurous than I was hard working and loyal, telling me I belonged in Gryffindor and not Hufflepuff." You laughed.

Harrison smiled slightly and remembered all the conversations, sometimes fights, the two of you would share about which houses you belonged in. Him still believing you belonged in Gryffindor alongside him. You two would talk for hours and hours about this kind of stuff; having long and debated arguments over different theories or ideas you had for the shows and movies you would watch together. Harrison loved how passionate you were not only about this, but your dreams in general. It was his favorite thing about you. As the memory faded, so did his smile. Harrison nodded his head before turning his attention back towards whatever game was on the television, still not speaking a word to you.