camp cherry two | hs

thirty nine

he's so pretty help

how did everyone find my book tbh 🧍‍♂️ i wanna know

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HANA

Harry is happy; he won't stop smiling and giving me soft kisses and giggling at the most unfunny things on the TV, his body shaking with laughter as I rest my head in his lap. We'll be leaving for the airport in six hours and Harry, thankfully, isn't stressing out.

"What time is it?" he asks, managing to calm down and press yet another gentle kiss to my lips, running his fingers through my hair.

"Two."

"Good, it's eight in Florida so I'll call now, okay?"

"Okay," I reply quietly, yawning with a small stretch, "I'm here, Harry."

"I know, Cherry, I'm fine, just... hold my hand," he exhales shakily, his leg constantly tapping nervously as he grabs the phone from the table beside the couch and hesitates for a moment before dialling the number. His hands are trembling slightly as he holds the receiver to his ear, and I grip his hand tighter, playing with the rings on his fingers and tracing the cross tattoo. "Hi, yeah, it's Harry," he stutters, and I can tell the exact moment Carl replies from how Harry visibly flinches at the sound of his voice, "our flight is landing at three in the morning. I'm sorry it's so late but are you okay to pick us up? If not, it's fine, we can get a taxi or something," he presses his lips flat, looking almost disappointed in himself, "okay, thank you, I'm sorry." He hangs up, staring into space for a second, "fuck."

"What did he say?" I inquire with a curious frown, sitting up and angling my body to grasp his jaw gently, directing his head to face me.

"He said he can pick us up, I just—fuck, I can't even talk to him over the phone," his head falls to his hands in disappointment, and I instantly notice the way he continues to punch his knuckles against his forehead. I grab his wrists, holding them away from him and behind me as I rest my knees either side of him, "I'm so pathetic. Why am I such a pussy?" He sighs, his head falling to my shoulder.

"You're not at all," I interject, but he immediately dismisses it.

"I am twenty years old. A man. And I'm scared of my..." he chuckles humourlessly, "my dad."

"Baby," I frown, gently placing my hand on his flushed cheek, running my thumb along the sharpness of his cheekbone as he sniffles, "you're not pathetic at all. He abused you for pretty much your entire life, you're gonna be scared and that's okay."

"He's an ocean away... it was just his voice and I..." he sighs, setting his jaw tightly, "can I not even hear his voice?"

"Harry, that voice has said so many horrible things to you," I shake my head, repositioning my hand to support the back of his head, yhe other dropping his wrists behind my back as he's distracted with grabbing my waist gently now and resting on his neck softly. "I'm so sorry no one saved you, I'm sorry," I whisper quietly, and his lips part as he nudges his nose against mine.

"It's okay, you're here now," he smiles softly, the tip of his nose tapping against mine lightly, "am I always gonna be scared?"

"I hope not, but it's okay if you are, it's not a bad thing - I just want you to be happy."

"I love you, Cherrypop."

"I love you, Harry. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he nods, sniffling again and angling my face closer, our foreheads and noses bumping against each other's until he kisses me, soft and innocent.