Hiraeth

8.

Just like so many times before I arrive home late, filling a glass of water before making my way up to bed, but I don't get far.

    "What's that?" His voice takes me by surprise and I jump slightly, luckily not spilling any water as I turn around to look at Harry and his bare chest.

    God those abs.

    I wouldn't mind running my hands over them. I shake the thought away, looking him in the eye.

    Shouldn't everyone be asleep?

    "It's nothing," I say, knowing what he's referring to without him telling me. I know, because the look he's giving me is a look of worry. I tilt my head down with a fake smile, thinking he can't see the bruises covering my neck, but it's not the first time he's noticed them.

    "Em, don't lie to me," his voice is stern yet soft, and I'm close to telling him everything, but what happens between Dylan and I is none of his business. I don't know what happens between him and Bridget either.

    "I'm not!" I look up into his eyes feeling like a child lying to a parent.

    Why does he have this effect on me?

    I shouldn't care about what Harry thinks, yet somehow I can't help it.

    "Emma?"

    "Harry?" I like that he worries about me, but it isn't his place. It will just make matters worse, and I'm not interested in bothering him with my problems. "Just go to bed. I'll see you in the morning." I give him a small smile trying to convince him I'm okay, but he isn't buying it, and I feel him grab my wrist, making me gasp slightly by the sudden contact.

    Why can't I hide anything from him?

    "Please tell me, no one did this to you," he says inspecting my neck. He runs his thumb over my skin making me twitch in pain by the contact, and I pull away probably hurting him by the action.

    "No one did this to me," I say, giving him what he wants, although there is no possible explanation that something other than another person would have given me these. I'm on the verge of tears by now although I'm not entirely sure why, and he isn't stupid enough to think I'm telling the truth.

    "I don't like seeing you like this," he says and embraces me in his arms, startling me. Somehow in this short amount of time I've known him, Harry's become a reminder of home. This place is the only place that has felt warm and loving and made me feel like I belong somewhere. And although I don't want to admit it, I'm pretty sure it's all due to this man who has his arms wrapped around me, and I want to just give in and let myself feel everything with him, but I can't.

    "I'm sorry," I apologise leaving him even more confused as tears start to fall. I know I have nothing to apologize for, yet I don't like knowing Harry worries about me.

    "What's this about? You know, you can tell me."

    "It doesn't matter," I say wiping my tears away.

    "It does to me," he says pulling a string of hair behind my ear, and I feel my heart melting as tingles start running through my body.

    "You worry too much," I say, smiling up at him.

    "Only about you," he smiles back, and my heart skips a beat at his confession. I'm not sure Bridget would like to hear that. Even if I don't want to admit it, he has me falling quite hard for him. He has been there for me since the beginning. Yet that doesn't mean I've gotten used to his kind words. He is always such a sweetheart.