*ON HAITUS* Unknown. || h.s

Twelve.

...

I grip my mug tightly in my hands, the heat of the coffee warming them through the ceramic.  The apartment feels so cold this morning and it's not because of the snow falling outside the window.  The lights are off in the early morning, the room painted in dull grey hues from the lack of sunlight outside.  I can't help but feel like I am painted in grey as well, not feeling much but numb.

Harry comes down the hall dressed in his usual white button up and slacks.  I don't know if he spares me a glance because I can't look at his face.

"Have you eaten?" His deep voice rings out through the silence and my stomach clenches.

I nod and he sighs.

I don't bother finishing my coffee, instead I watch it swirl around in the sink and disappear down the drain.

I follow him to the front door and he holds out my coat to me.  I don't look him in the eyes when I take it and mutter a thank you under my breath.  He pulls on his boots and coat, double checking that his key is in his pocket like he always does.

I reach for the doorknob, the feeling of needing to get out in the open crushing me.  The air is so thick in the apartment and I can hardly breath while he is the only person with me is a confined space.

"Skylar, stop," he sighs, putting a hand on mine and pulling it away from the door knob.  My insides twist and I cross my arms, Harry not even trying to keep hold of my hand.

We stand in silence a few moments, my eyes in the floor and his on me.  I can feel him looking at me, my face burning under is vibrant eyes that I know are watching me.  Every fiber of my being wants to turn and leave out the door, but my head knows that will only make things worse.

"Look at me," he says quietly. 

I don't.

"Please," he whipsers and let's out a sigh when I don't move.  He raises a hand and his big fingers grip my chin lightly and tilt my head up so I'm forced to look at him. 

I don't fight it, I am tired of fighting and arguing.  We were in such a good place, we were better than we ever have been before I went away and Harry did something stupid.  I'm trying not to let this bump get to me, but I'd be lying if I said it hadn't already made its way under my skin.  The image I had only just created of us is slipping away and it is looking more and more difficult to get back to where we were.

I finally accepted that it was possible for us to be together, to have a future different than the last.  I had only just accepted that we were possible, and now I'm not sure what to think. 

"Talk to me," he says soflty, his pink lips turned down in the corners and his eyes holding mine.  The bright green they usually are is still present, but I can see the doubt and guilt swimming behind them clearly.

"We'll be late for work," I mumble.

"That's not what I mean," he sighs.

"Can't we just -"

"No, I can't stand leaving things like this.  I could hardly bear letting you go to sleep upset last night -"

"But you did," I remind him.

"Only because I knew if I tried to make it right that soon it would have only made it worse," he explains, a pain in his eyes that I do not see often.  I notice for the first time the bags under his eyes and the unruliness of his curls that he hasn't set right.  "I know us, I know how we work."

I take a breath through my nose, the pressure of his eyes too much to bear this early in the morning and in this circumstance.  I turn my head away from him and reach for the doorknob again.