Mint [H.S.]

2

505 - Arctic Monkeys 

"Stop and wait a sec, oh when you look at me like that my darling. What did you expect? I probably still adore you with your hands around my neck, or I did last time I checked." 

ISABELLA 

The bittersweet feeling of homesickness vanishes from every pore of my body the moment I step inside. The musty scent of aged air and the faded cologne still lingers within the dusty apartment. Everything is the same. Nothing has moved or changed since I left four months ago. The dirty sock I was too lazy to put away still lays alone on the couch. My empty glass remains beside the sink. His ripped boots still sit beside the old fireplace...

"Harry - you can't keep them there." I giggle, watching his lanky body struggle to take his tattered brown boots off. "It's going to stink up the whole place." 

He waves me off, ignoring my advice. "Baby, they're wet," he chuckles, shaking his head slowly. 

"But they smell like ass." 

"Such a charmer, you are," he jokes. 

He lays his boots against the side of the fireplace, right beside my large mason jar. I cringe as he hits it, the jar losing it's balance slightly. Luckily, he catches it. Placing it back into its rightful spot. The snow that lingers on his boots have created a puddle. It takes everything in me to not move them into the tub and clean up its mess."You have too many jars," he comments. The second time this week. 

"I like them," I shrug. Grinning as he slides across the room in his stripped black socks.

"Yeah, well... I love you," he smirks, sliding his way towards me. His lips brush gently against my forehead, causing a eruption of butterflies to disperse. 

The memory fades while everything else remain stagnant. 

No traces of life can be seen and my heart breaks just a little bit more. He wasn't here. I don't know why I though the would be. But a little part of me - the part that is still hopeful, wishful that he is still cared for me too - believed that he'd be here. Laughing and grinning, his dimples out, arms open in a welcoming hug. 

Maybe I'm delusional. Maybe I'm just afraid. Whatever it is that I am, I know that I still love him. I will always love him. He had to still love me too. What Harry and I had was... is.... real. Raw. Passionate. Challenging and more... you can't find what we have in a catalogue or be given it from a wish foundation. He has every part of my body and soul and there was no damn way he'd toss it all away. No... He'd come back. He had to. There was no other choice. My heart would not allow any other way. 

The bags fall from my tired shoulders. A loud thump sounding throughout the noiseless apartment. The bags under my eyes feel like weighty bricks. Every muscle in my fragile frame screaming loud. It's tired cries flood my ears, calling at me to lay down. I was emotionally and physically spent. Words were unable to describe how I felt. 

The bedroom door hits the back of the wall. I ignore the loud sound that results from it's sudden blow. Everything inside is the same. The bedsheets are messy and pillows are still thrown against the headboard. Nothing was different from the last time I had been here. Nothing had been moved. 

"Harry?" I call out. My head hurt from the train ride back. I couldn't believe what had happened. How he'd left like that. Without any explanation, without any call. I had stayed a few extra days, calming myself down. Letting him calm down. I knew we needed time to cool off. Awful words were always said when both parties were hurting.