Plant New Seeds | H.S.| AU

Chapter Ten - Bakes

N I A

Harry: I need you, too.

An entire hour passed by with no word from Harry. I wanted to give him his space, considering the fact that we had spent nine whole hours together. Coming back home to the drear of my apartment only highlighted how much his presence affected me.

The yellow shade of my walls mocked me, falsely symbolizing a brightness I no longer had, if I ever did. The only light I had to look forward to was Harry.

The plushness of my bed lagged in comparison to the comfort I felt exclusively with Harry.

The staggered laughter pouring from the voices on my television haunted me. A sudden build up from your spleen that forces air out the lungs and an unsaddened cry through your mouth was all it ever was to me. It only went past a biological sense with Harry. I turned it off.

I didn't need to stare at my walls and contemplate repainting them. I didn't need to bury myself under my comforter that was beginning to ware from age. I didn't need to entertain myself with cheap jokes and overused storylines from a sitcom.

I needed him.

And, apparently, he needed me too.

My unsteady hands attempt to type a response to Harry but they never stabilized. I just wanted one second. One moment when my unsettled nerves didn't control me. Harry needed me. And if I didn't answer soon, he'd think I was drunk. He'd think that I hadn't meant a single word of what I said. He'd think that I—

A vibration silenced me. Harry's name flashing across my screen ignited me.

I pressed the accept the button hungrily, not daring to waste any second with hesitation. "Harry."

His breathing wasn't the same rhythm as I was beginning to know it as; usually it was serene and collected. Now, it was hectic and scattered.

"I need you, too. I need you, too, I need you, I need you," Harry repeated the same three words over and over again with every fiber of the little bit he had left of his heart.

My own heart cracked through every 'I need you' he managed to rasp out; hearing him so broken felt like a culture shock.

It went beyond our sexual innuendos that was starting to become a habit for us, like the sun's ever growing rays settling on the part of the world that needed the shine the most.

It abstained from any traces of manipulative intent, similar to the sunlight invading our skin to implement a protection and a strengthening of our unsuspecting bones.

It exceeded the natural human desire to constantly be in control, in fact it was the opposite, akin to the earth's reliance on the sun for heat, to set its weather patterns, and to absorb its energy.

I shakily let go of my breath to speak my own words, "I nee—"

"—I'm sorry. I should have just waited for you to text back. But I just needed to hear your voice, Nia. I just needed to hear your voice, baby."

The beat of a thousand drums impacted my heart as the word 'baby' left his lips. Baby. I called him that first. I didn't intend to ever call him that out loud; it stemmed from my fantasies, a world that oozed the desires of perfection I held onto. In that world, I'd call him 'baby' and he would respond like it was the norm.

And he did.

And I would do the same.

"Don't you dare apologize," I reassured his worries. "I needed to hear yours, too."