Restless Evenings //h.s

Flights

"Theresa." Harry murmured against my hair. I was just about to fall asleep and I almost wanted to pretend I hadn't heard him, instead I yawned a little and said,

"Yes Harry." He paused and I sat up a bit so I could look at him. He was staring down at me intently like he had been pondering something for the last ten minutes.

"I have something to tell you." He whispered. That woke me up. Sitting up further, I brushed back my bangs and took his hand.

"What is it?" I asked. Harry pursed his lips and turned his arm over and held it up to me. I was confused because I thought he was showing me my hand in his but faint lines on his wrists caught my eye. No. Turning around I clicked on the light that sat in the nightstand. I could see the scars a bit clearer now but I didn't want it to be true. My stomach dropped. "Harry." I whispered.

"I haven't done it in a year." He quickly explained. "When my sister found out I started hiding it he said gesturing to his upper arm where more scars laid. "But I stopped. I swear." I didn't know how to reply. What was I suppose to say? "Oh shit. I knew it. Don't cry. Please don't cry." He begged cupping my face.

"I'm not." I chocked out but I could already feel the tears spilling down my face. Harry quickly brushed them away as I tried not to sob. "When did you," I paused. "Start." I finally blurted out.

"A little over two years ago." He murmured.

"Why?" I demanded.

"I don't know!" He protested, running a hand through his hair. "It was a lot of things. It was my dad and myself. I thought.." I stopped him by quietly asking,

"Your dad?" Harry ran his hand down his face looking a little distraught and pained,

"My dad and mum got divorced. I don't think I ever told you that. Happened when I was seven." He said with a shrug.

"Why wouldn't you tell me that?" I said crying again.

"It didn't matter until now!" Harry exclaimed pulling me onto his lap like I was a baby.

"It obviously mattered if you hurt yourself because of it!" I cried out hugging him, throwing my arms around his neck. Harry stroked my short hair and rubbed my back as I hugged him.

"I don't cut anymore Theresa." He whispered of me. I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Don't say.. Don't say cut. I don't like it." I told him pulling back.

"I don't hurt myself anymore Theresa." Harry amended wiping at my tears again.

"Why did you do it?" I asked again, deciding to wait until I had a full answer before I began asking more questions. Harry singed, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't know I guess part of me was still hurt that my dad left us so young. He's not a bad father, he didn't completely leave us he just wasn't around as much. It hurt. I sort of thought that was a my fault and I just.. I was never confident enough in myself. It sounds like a stupid reason." He muttered.

"It's to stupid. A lot of people feel like that. What made you stop?" Harry stared at me like it was obvious. "Me?" I questioned.

"More or less." He said kissing me lightly a small smile on his face. "I tried to stop when my sister found out but I couldn't. I just got better at hiding it." I shook a little as he said this but Harry soothingly rubbed my arm to calm me down. "The week we went camping I forgot to bring.. What I needed just in case I had a random urge or something." He paused. "It was that week with you that changed my outlook on everything." He stopped again. "You've never.." I shook my head.