Running [h.s.]

fifty nine | luna

Where there is desire, there is gonna be a flame

Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned

After sending the message to Harry telling him he can come up, time seems to slow down immensely until I literally feel like the world is moving in slow motion. I hear the small wall clock in the kitchen ticking, though it seems like minutes go by between ticks.

Is he going to be angry? Is he here to comfort me and make it all okay?

The thing that triggers my anxiety the most is the unknown. Not knowing something important instantly makes my sympathetic nervous system go into overdrive, and I feel adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream. I haven't seen Harry in person since he took me to the beach last Wednesday, though we've talked on the phone almost every day since then. I hope he is just here to comfort me, I don't think I can handle him being angry. When he got mad at Lucas for being at my dance studio it was incredibly frightening. I never want to see him like that again, especially if I am on the receiving end of it.

My panicked thoughts are interrupted by a few loud knocks on the door. I take a deep breath and swallow the lump in my throat before heading to the door. I look through the peephole and see Harry, his eyebrows furrowed and sharp jaw clenched, and I already begin to assume the worst. He's pissed.

I twist the knob, my hand shaking as it grips the cold metal. When I open the door, Harry looks at me with a cold, vacant stare and I feel my stomach drop. He has one hand behind his back and the other is shoved into the pocket of his coat. He finally fills the silence looming between us by clearing his throat and saying, "Before we talk, I brought this for you." The hand behind his back extends towards me, holding a beautiful synthetic peony, and I take a deep breath to avoid tears pooling in my eyes. Don't cry, Luna. Even though he's pissed off, he still brought me a fucking flower. I don't deserve this man. "Can I come in?" He asks me.

I snap out of my thoughts and move out of the way holding the door open for him. "Shit, yeah sorry. Come in," I stammer.

He enters my apartment but doesn't take off his coat, hinting that he is probably not planning to stay for long. Fuck, this isn't good.