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Chapter Six

"Go first." He gestures, his large hand having to want me to go down before him. I nod in compliance walking down the stairs, hearing both our footsteps. Once we got down to the main floor of my property, Harry liberally makes his way to the kitchen whilst I made my way to the counter bar, sitting on a high stool. I watch him cook and search for ingredients in the fridge and in the cabinetry. He was just so focused; so into what he was doing.

"Harry?" I say.

"Yeah?" He breathes out, saying it.

"Is cooking a passion, well, uh, of yours?"

"Well, if it isn't obvious enough." He continuously does what he's doing.

A bit rude.

"Can I join you?" I ask smiling a tad bit, watching every move he makes.

"With an injured hand? I think not." taking hold of my injured hand, I look down and spoke to myself. "Of course not." I roll my eyes. When I look up, I see Harry staring at me. His back was resting on the counter top, wiping his hands with a towel.

"What?" I inquire, looking at him, seeing a small curve at the end of his lips; a smirk. He laughs a bit, afterwards.

"You sure are desperate." He states mockingly at me with his brows up showing an smile on his face and his dimples deep.

"Come here." Should I do what he says? "Paige, I'm not going to do anything to you." He annouces, reassuringly. I stand up and walked to him. "You want to help, right?" He puts his hands inside his pockets; a stern look plastered on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Okay then. Try this." He saunters to the stove. I see a sauce pan resting on top of the gas rangetop, fire coming out of it. Harry motions himself to face it as he takes the serving spoon out of the cookware. He holds the kitchenware infront of me. 'What?" "Taste it." My eyebrows furrow. I take a sip of the sauce tasting and savoring it.

"I like it. Though, now that I've thought about it, and realized it just now, it does taste familiar."

"Familiar?"

"I don't really know, I guess it's just me." I laugh, slyly. Should I keep myself close to him? I mean, I dont want this to come to an end but I just cant help myself from contemplating about him... and myself. I dont even think I should trust my insticts anymore— or even my thoughts or perceptions.

"No, like how?" He insists. I think I should've just kept it to myself.

"No, I think I've got it all wro—"

"Tell me!" He cuts me off, bluntly.

I take a deep breath. "I dont think this is a great time. Harry, I dont want to—"

"What is it, Paige?"

"Damn, what is wrong with you?" I shout.

"You're so unpredictable, Harry!" I add.

"Just tell me what, why, how?" His hands flailed and his eyes... his eyes were— were pleading.

"Why do you keep persuading me? Why? What are you talking about?" I jitter, my heart starting to pound loudly.

He sighs. "Nothing— I got lost I— I'm sorry." He stutters and began hugging me.

"No!" I state, pushing him away from me.

I set myself free from him, explaining that I needed to rest and that I lost my appetite, even though, I knew to myself that I was starving, badly.

I went up the stairs, taking strides to the guest room, lying in bed, once I have gotten in. I think to myself, once again, I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask any of this. I groan, breathing in and breathing out with my hands resting on my stomach as I stared at the ceiling. I begin to feel my chest rise and fall unendlessly finally noticing the way I couldn't control my improper way of breathing. It was unbearable. I sat up and put my hand above my heart. I couldn't let myself die, lacking of air. I shouted, 'Harry' from second to second unable to battle with myself. Mind over matter. I thought to myself, twice or thrice, but my condition couldn't get any worse.

I finally hear a pair of footsteps rapdily ascending the stairs into the room.

Harry.

He was devastated, but I could see he was trying to keep himself calm. He hugs me asking me if I was okay. My eyes showed nothing but desperateness and his showed nothing but worry while he held the sides of my arms. In continuation of his act, he searches— looking for something.

Looking for what?

Once he has done rummaging and found what he was finding, his hand has clutched an object and, with my eyes I see that it was a paper bag. He opens it inbetween and placed it infront of my mouth,

"Relax, relax."

Harry's POV

I held her back with my other hand holding the paper bag as she breathed. She relaxed, though it was gradual, my advice helped her. "Take it easy, okay?" She nods in compliance. "Whenever you can't breathe, find a paper bag so it can help you. You will able to breathe again normally. This thing"- I lay my eyes on the brown bag-"this is where the carbon dioxide stays." I explain to her.

After that surprising occasion, silence grew in the room and she was completely out of reality; staring at nothing, and I?

Well, I was was staring at everything— my everything; her.

So 'it's been a really long time and I apologise for that considering that I was rather not taking it seriously as if it were an excuse that I was busy. Yes, I may be doing a lot of things but I know that's not an excuse in my very own perception and I'm terribly sorry. Please do accept my apology and if not, I do understand why. Thank you. Have a good day and I hope you (if ever) enjoyed/ are enjoying this story. Vote if you have been delighted reading this and comment what your thoughts are about.

p.s. I will be doing the next chapter.

xx