labyrinth Δ harry styles

Door Forty-Two: Drowning

AT A YOUNG age, learning how to swim was a skill that came easy to me. It wasn't easy at first, learning how to tread through the water and float without an aid. Eventually, I got the hang of it. There wasn't any body of water I couldn't swim in. But for the first time in forever, I felt like I was drowning. For the first couple of months of knowing Harry, it was like learning how to tread and keep my head above water. There was always something that attracted me to him and kept me within arms reach. And during that time, I kept myself at arms reach because I thought I was protecting myself, so I wouldn't have to go through any heartbreak that I thought I could see coming. But as I became more familiar with him, more acquainted with the person he is, it feels like I'm underwater.

To drown is to have lack of oxygen and with him, it's like I can't breath. I'm walking in uncharted territory, doing things, and seeing things I've never experienced before. Every single moment I spend with him is not enough and even though I get dizzy from the lack of air, I still crave more.  I know how masochistic that sounds, but their isn't any other way to describe it.

After last night—and even after this morning—I am yearning for more and more time with him. A few hours alone was not nearly enough time as I had wanted it to be. I knew I had to go to work, and I knew I would be leaving him soon to do so, but when I actually gathered my things, and stepped inside my car, I was already wanting the day to end. The thought of driving back to his place and sleeping over for another night excited me. It wasn't hard getting too wrapped up in him, growing attached to him like a parasite and feeding off all the love he thought I deserved.

Being with Harry has always felt exhilarating, but after our first night of true intimacy, I can't help but want to be attached to his hip. I want him to want me again, to kiss me again, and even just to trace his fingertips over my skin because it just feels so good to be loved. I can't bring myself to admit what love was or what it felt like. This love obviously isn't anything like a family would love you, it's a type of love that goes deeper than that. The type where even through all the bad they still see the good in you, and they want nothing more than to experience everything with you be it a good or bad situation. When I professed my love for Harry, I truly felt like I was falling deeper and deeper into something I couldn't comprehend and probably still don't comprehend.

As he held me in his sleep this morning, I repeatedly found the time to contemplate, to think about how much of a dream this feels like. I contemplate the nature of our relationship, and how we still found love out of everything we've been through for the first couple of months of knowing each other. It's all so surreal and sometimes I have to reach out and caress his arm or feel his pulse to make sure he's right there with me and not some figment of my imagination.

My head hurts from it being pressed against the hard surface of my steering wheel. Through all of this, I still have to go to work as much as I'd rather be curled up at Harry's side tracing the patterns left by the jagged inked machine. I haven't moved my car from the garage since I've sat in it, allowing all my emotions completely obliterate me.

On my way to work, I stop by Dunkin's to grab myself my usual coffee before work. But even as I slowly sip at my sugary coffee, I realize it doesn't make me any less irritable since I started driving. Really, all it is is wanting to be with Harry right now. I have been the most intimate I have been in my entire life, and even though I know I don't have any solid reason to be feeling this way, I can't be blamed for not wanting to be apart for a few hours. I question if this is even normal, feeling so strongly for someone that it's almost impossible to leave their presence.

Before I know it, I'm parked in one of the few open spots behind the restaurant. The radio clock tells me that I'm ten minutes early, which is hardly ever usual. Maybe I've been too lost in thought that I've just been speeding my way here—granted, it's not that long of a drive from his house to my work place.