sign {h.s.}

kapitel vierundfünfzig

n. we are trucking on as is guys, gals, and non-binary pals (also, thank you for the unbelievable kindness in relation to my mini mental breakdown earlier today <3)

"Multicultural Independent Language Application." 

"Pardon?" 

I sit up in Harry's childhood bedroom, blindly searching for the lamp beside the bed. After a few failed attempts, my fingers wrap around the grooved circle. Spinning it over a couple of times, after the second click, the room is filled with light. The walls are a pale yellow color; something I would never have expected from him. Earlier, I had commented on it in a way similar he did to me. Playfully, he pushed me down against the bed before latching his lips against my own. 

The bed is old and creaks with each of our movements, though Harry assures me it isn't a problem. Anne's room is on the other side of the house and Leah will take no issue with the noise. "Multicultural Independent Language Application." He repeats, the same tone, the same sense of conviction in his voice. There is a smile on his lips, as though he has solved one of the greatest mysteries. "Or maybe not, maybe the acronym needs some help."

"Acronym--what...?" The more he talks, the less sense he is making. We had crawled into his small, double sized bed nearly an hour ago. The duvet split into shades of blue was drawn back as we snuggled tightly against each other. We laid in silence, breathing quiet and slowed as we remained on respective sides of the bed, to the point that I thought he had fallen asleep mad at me. 

My eyes catch on the clock he has sitting on his bedside table. Near hitting one in the morning, exhaustion is beginning to set in. All day we spent indulging Anne and Leah in the happenings in Harry's life. He had more to tell than I did, but he was sure to include me in all of the stories. When he thought I must be getting bored, he would make sure to find something to entertain me. Like, he would find a new sign for Leah to teach me or something similar. 

Rubbing my eyes in order to adjust to the suddenly blinding light, I comb my fingers through my hair and pull it up on my head. "Acronym," he repeats, enthusiastically, suddenly seeming more excited and awake, "M.I.L.A.," he says it as though it should be obvious. "For a while, I've been thinking about what I should do with Mila's money. Having it has been nice. I have real estate all over, I've been able to pursue my doctorate--"

"You have your doctorate?" 

Without even stopping, he continues on as though if he doesn't get the words out he will literally explode. "But, I just feel weird keeping it. There is still so much coming in and I am just sitting on it. After Nadine asked for it, I almost felt like I should give it to her because I don't need it. But then I kept thinking: Nadine doesn't need it either. She has a house, a job, and she lives right in the heart of Paris. She just wants the money because... well, because she can. Which made me think: am I no better than Nadine? Am I just profiting off of my dead-ex?"

"Harry, no--"

Still, he doesn't pause to indulge my words. All at once, he is jumping out of bed in order to pace the small room. His large hands tug at the roots of his hair, a wild look in his eye as he continues to think aloud. "I've been thinking about it for a while, but all at once it just clicked. I wouldn't have been able to meet Mila if my parents didn't have the money to front me and send me abroad. Half of the experiences that I have in my career wouldn't have been available. I want to start something, in Mila's honor, in order to facilitate sending kids abroad. If they can pay for it, fine, if they can't--we'll figure it out. I'll figure it out."

For one in the morning, his words seem a bit manic, but I can tell this is something he has heavily considered for a long time. Everything considered, it is his money. "I think it's a great idea," I coo, not really sure if he is even hearing me as he speaks. Everything else I've said since he started rolling has gone in one ear and out the other.