The Adjacent Room [h.s]

Chapter 13

'Harry oh my god.' I touch his arm and guide him through the doorway. Despite the fact he's wearing a long sleeve shirt and track pants, I can feel how cold he is through the thin fabric. In the 4 years we have worked together, it is almost always Harry calming me, but in this moment he is broken. I don't know what happened on this date and what caused him to appear in my doorway at 3am, but he looks like a child. Harry is over half a foot taller than I am, but I swear he's smaller than me right now.

He walks into my dark room and hesitantly sits on the edge of my bed as though he doesn't belong there. I would let him belong there in a heartbeat if he let me. I know it's terrible, but I want him to sit properly on the bed with me, so I lean against the bedhead and hope he comes closer. My plan works, because as I turn on the lamp, Harry shuffles closer to me. Almost as though it's instinct. I wish it was his instinct, because I know it's mine.

The room is thick with an energy I can't explain, and I almost feel uncomfortable. Never in my life have I ever seen Harry look like this before, and I can't begin to guess what words are going to come out of his mouth. Words that will surely tear me apart again, but I don't care about how I feel for him right now, I just need to know that he's okay.

His eyes start glossing over and without thinking I start to bring my hands to his cheeks to catch his tears threatening to fall.

'Stop, please just don't.' He says and turns his head. My stomach twists at his words and I pull my hands away. I am so embarrassed, I can't help but want to touch him. It is my way of reaching for him and feeling like he's mine, even if it's only in that moment. Every other way that I reach for him, I never quite reach far enough.

'Sorry, I..I didn't mean it like that. I..yeah' He trails off while running his hands through his hair. He's fiddling with his track pant drawstring now, and I clasp my hands together to stop myself from pulling him to me.

'Harry I don't understand, you're here and you're not saying anything. You won't even let me touch you. I was only trying to make you feel better, I know I'm just your assistan.. ' I bite back my own tears.

'Don't call yourself that. Please, just not tonight. I hate that word.' What is going on? I watch his chest rise and fall, and his breathing is shaky. I don't think I've ever felt pain like the pain I feel right now.

If someone was to walk into the room right now, they would see two broken souls sitting on a bed. Broken for different reasons.

'Have you ever had to force yourself to not..love someone?' He asks, and I'm taken aback. Is this about Camille? Of course it is and of course I have. Every day of the last 4 years, but he doesn't know that, and he never will.

'Yes.' I say.

'Do you know what it's like when you see them smile and it's like the world just gets a little bit brighter? And you just stand there watching them and it's like..like you're looking at everything that ever mattered to you..but..I..it's just a little bit out of your grasp so the image is clear..but it's fuzzy at the same time?' He won't make eye contact with me as the words fall out, but his voice is tired and gives away how he's feeling.

'Yes. That's..' For a minute my brain disconnects with my body and I nearly tell him he's put every one of my feelings towards him into words, but I can't. The pain that comes with his candid discussion of his feelings for Camille is enough to crush me, but it's unmatched with the pain I feel for seeing him so broken.

'I don't know how to say this.' He put his head in his hands, and in a moment of bravery I grab his wrists and pull them away from his face. I know he doesn't want me to touch him, but I just know that I have to.