Two Wrongs h.s|a.g

Everything.

"Bye, mom. I'll see you soon." I say to my mother, hugging her tightly before watching her walk out of my house. I close the door and turn around, walking past Harry and into the bedroom. I get into bed and sit up, starting at the TV mounted onto the wall. I blindly reach for the remote and take it off mute as the doorbell rings.

What now?

A few minutes later Harry walks in with two boxes of food and I smile lightly, remembering that we ordered food.

"Thanks." My voice is quiet as he hands me my box.

We stay silent as we eat, just listening to some random show that came on.

I clear all of the trash from dinner out of our room and brush my teeth on the way back, Harry nearly giving me a heart attack when he walks into the bathroom. I smile weakly at him through the mirror and finish brushing my teeth.

When I'm done I move out of the way so Harry can brush his, and I sit on the bathroom counter.

It's silent except for the television, and it's not helping my mood.

My mother, has cancer.

My mother, is sick.

She's going to die.

She might not live to see me graduate high school, see the baby, my college graduation, my wedding. All these milestones in my life, she might have to miss out on, and I'll have to do them without her.

"Ariana." Harry's voice is raised slightly and I blink a few times before looking at him.

"Yeah?" I ask, but am taken back at the sound of my voice. It's quiet, shaky, and it sounds as if I've been crying.

I reach up and sure enough there's tears on my cheek. "Sorry." I apologize and wipe them away with my sweater sleeve. I go to slide down from the counter top but Harry steps in front of me and puts his hands on my thighs.

"Don't apologize for crying." He whispers, brushing my hair behind my eyes.

"I love her, Harry. I don't want her to die." I wrap my arms around his waist and put my head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

"I know you don't, love. I don't either. But she is sick, and as much as it sucks we have to cherish the time we have left with her. Crying and pouting won't change the outcome." He puts his chin on the top of my head and hugs me back, his hands slowly rubbing my back.

"Why are you always right?" I say, a little laugh coming out with it. He pulls away and smiles, making my mood lift instantly.

"One of us has to be." He winks at me and I scoff, punching him in the chest lightly.

"You're so rude." I laugh and maneuver around him and jump off the counter. The tiles are cold against my bare feet and I regret not putting on socks. I turn off the bathroom light, smiling to myself when I hear Harry whine 'HEY!' and turn the light back on.

I feel hands grab my waist and I squeal when I get picked up and thrown onto the bed. I blow the hair out of my face and look at Harry, admiring him as he leans over me and holds himself in a push up position.

His hair is pulled back into the cutest bun, which I tease him about every time he does it. His eyes are bright with excitement and child-like playfulness, nothing but happiness shining in them as they look into mine. The green in them nothing but mesmerizing.

Soft, pink lips that feel amazing against mine. That make my knees weak when pressed to my neck. That make everything better when stretched into a heartwarming smile that could light up the darkest of rooms. The way they verbalize in slow, precise words.

And his smell. Don't even get me started on the intoxicating smell of his that lingers on his pillows in the morning and on his shirts at night when I wear them to bed. The mixture of dizzying cologne and spearmint chewing gum along with the faintest bit of coconut from his conditioner.

His arms, the ones that look like they could cause so much damage and that are covered in tattoos; but are so warm and loving as they hold me against him in even his deepest of sleeps. The toned muscles that carry me to bed and give me piggy back rides when I feel too lazy to walk.

His hands, and the rings. Oh, the rings. The cool metal contrasts against his warm fingers, giving me chills when they wander my torso at night. The comfort they give me when he uses them to lightly play his guitar as he writes a song.

Don't forget his voice. His beautiful, beautiful voice. The thick accent that speaks words so sweet I can't catch my breath. The deep, raspy voice that makes everything better. Whether it's telling me a meaningless joke, or a song with so much meaning you can hardly stand it. No matter if it's in the middle of the day and he's talking to me about anything, or if it's the dead of night and he's whispering dirty secrets in my ear and moaning my name; it still sends shivers down my spine.

But above all of that... the feeling that comes with all of it. The horrifyingly beautiful, deep, exquisite feeling. A love so deep it's unfathomable for anyone who hasn't experienced it.

"What are you thinking about?" Harry asks, biting his lip as he searches his eyes.

"You." I utter, guiding him to sit up. He does and I crawl into his lap, hugging his arms when they lock around me.

"What about me?" The curiosity clear in his voice.

"Everything." I look at him and he looks slightly confused.

"Everything?" He asks, brushing the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip.

"Mhm. About how... everything about you is intoxicating." I start, the smallest ghost of a smile hinting on my lips. "I fall in love with you every time my eyes wander your way."

He just smiles at me, making my heart flutter like always. I crane my head up and kiss him, slow and long, savoring his love in this simple gesture.

And I realize it.

This is happiness.

A/N
HOLY F THANKS FOR 500! enjoy this little filler. I would've written a tad more but I literally fell asleep writing the last paragraph and I need sleep.
I'll update a full chapter on Sunday (new update day)