Lost in The City // H.S.

Chapter 25

I am surprised when I wake to an empty bed and wander downstairs to find Harry with my mother in the kitchen. He is sitting at the table drinking coffee while she stands in front of the stove cooking. They stop talking as soon as I walk into the kitchen and I just know this is not good.

"Good morning dear," my mother says with a smile.

My eyes shift between the two of them feeling like I just interrupted a conversation they were having about me. Harry gives me a sly smile while taking a sip from his coffee.

"Morning," I mumble and take a seat next to Harry at the table.

Harry knows my mother and I are not very close. I only hope she is not asking him any questions about me and my life in London because I would prefer to be the one to decide what I am willing to share with her.

My mother quickly starts up another conversation with Harry and puts an end to the silence that was created when I entered.

It is Sunday and it's snowing outside so we plan to stay inside the house, watching movies and wrapping presents for the day. It is strange how easily Harry seems to fit in.

He is usually quiet in group settings, even around our friends. But he seems perfectly relaxed and content hanging around the house with my family.

I notice how my father seems tired easily now and moves slower than before. But besides that he is still his same cheerful self. I slowly feel the anxiousness start to fade that I had looming over me the last few weeks because of worrying about him.

It is late afternoon when I leave Harry and Noah playing some video game in Noah's room and head downstairs to grab a snack. But when I come back up about ten minutes later I find Noah alone in his room.

"Where'd Harry go?" I ask Noah confused at his sudden disappearance.

"I don't know, he seemed upset all of the sudden and walked out," Noah says shrugging his shoulders and keeping his focus on the video game in front of him.

Noah's word automatically put me on edge because that doesn't sounds like Harry at all. There was no noise of someone coming down the stairs when I was in the kitchen so I head to my room assuming he went there.

When I open the door to my room I find Harry sitting on the end of my bed with his face in his hands, and his elbows resting on his knees. The first thing that catches my attention is his erratic breathing.

His black long sleeve is pulled tight across his tense back muscles. And his hair is messier than usual meaning he's been stressfully tugging on it.

Concern immediately takes over as I take in his panicked state. I hesitate for just a second deciding if I should leave him be or not. But before I can stop myself I am sitting next to him on the bed with my hand running up and down his back. I don't want to startle him or make him more upset with my presence but I can't leave him. I have never seen him like this before.

"Harry what's wrong?" I ask softly but the panic is clear in my voice.

He remains silent but his breathing is slowing as I continue to run my hand up his back so I sit quietly next to him waiting for him to calm down.

Eventually he leans up slightly, removing his hands from his face. Then placing them on his knees rubbing them against the fabric of his sweatpants while taking deep breaths. He doesn't look at me but I can see his eyes are red and puffy. He was crying. I know something is truly wrong when I see his face. He never shows this kind of vulnerability, even with me.

Finally after what feels like forever of silence, he turns to look at me and the look on his face breaks my heart. I reach up wiping a lingering tear from his cheek with my thumb and he leans into my touch closing his puffy eyes.