Eucalyptus & Honey |H.S.|

Chapter 10 - Stop Your Crying, Baby

I awoke to the feeling of Harry shoving me from his body.

Opening my eyes felt like peeling apart paper that was plastered together. My lids were heavy and stinging, and when they finally pried open, I could see that Harry's room was still blanketed in the silver of the moon.

Remembering the reason I had woken up in the first place, my stomach dropped to my toes, and I dreaded to see the look in his face. I was now lying flat on my back, about a half-foot from Harry's warm body, and I could sense that he had turned to face away from me.

My heart fluttered with the feeling that I had somehow done something to piss him off in my sleep. I laid absolutely still for the whole of a minute, calming my heart and my nerves—anxiety doing what it does best.

When I felt somewhat less doubtful of myself, I decided to roll over, and fall back to sleep. I was way too fucking tired to deal with whatever mood swing Harry was going through right now.

My eyes were heavy enough to immediately stick themselves back together again, and my heart had nearly completely calmed. I was in that state between wake and sleep in which your body simultaneously feels so heavy and so, so light, when Harry shifted again.

Except, this time, the action felt nearly violent. The bed shook, and my eyes split open again; heart thudding in my chest at the sudden movement.

I was about to tell Harry to chill the fuck out and go back to sleep when he let out a noise from deep within his throat that could only be described as a soft whimper.

Wide awake now, I slowly turned to face him, unsure of what I would find. My eyes had adjusted enough from sleep that I was able to fully make out his form in the dark.

He had shifted onto his back, and his arms were flailed out at his sides. His still-ringed fingers were clenched in a tight fist, and I could see that his brows were set in a hard frown, but he was clearly very much asleep.

He had sloppily kicked the blankets lower on his body so that they rested unevenly, just above his hips. The muscles in his stomach were spasming as he took in gasping breaths.

My once-anxious heart was now hurting all over again for a completely different reason. I hated seeing that frown set into his face, even when it was his subconscious that caused it. Especially when it was his subconscious that caused it.

Unsure if I should wake him or not, I sat for a moment, seeing if it got any worse or better. His fists remained clenched, breaths remained sporadic, and frown remained evident. I chewed my lip, debating whether he would be angry at me for waking him, or not.

He solved my dilemma for me, however, when he suddenly sprang up into a sitting position. His lungs were heaving, and I could see a thin layer of sweat coating his back. He was muttering something, as though he was not fully awake yet, and I hesitated before placing my palm on the center of his back.

"Harry." My voice was barely above a whisper. "Pretty, you okay?" That stupid fucking question that no one seemed to be able to stop asking.

Harry flinched away from my words and my touch. "Don't fucking touch me, please, please don't touch me. Please."

I swallowed around the lump that was forming in my throat. His reaction hurt my pride a little, but more than anything, it hurt knowing that he had these sorts of nightmares, and that there was nothing I could do to prevent that.

I couldn't tell if he was fully lucid yet, but I figured the only way to tell would be to talk to him. I didn't exactly encounter this kind of situation very often, so I felt a bit like my head was underwater and I was desperate to reach the surface.