Cheshire Chatroom Continuation

30

The journey was silent, not counting the instructions Harry gave me to get to his apartment.
I had nothing to say.

My mind was freaking out about what had just happened. She really kicked me out. How could she have done it? I mean, sure, I hadn't been an easy person to live with, but I never could have believed she'd even come and kick me out of the house. She hadn't even spoken to me. She just told me to get out, like I was a lot of garbage.

I slowed down, turning into the drive that Harry had pointed out to me. The house was single-story and white, with a small veranda in front. It was smaller than mine, but she was nice and looked cozy.

Harry smiled at me slightly and we got out of the car, climbing the few steps that were before the entrance and Harry opened the door, saying, "Mom I'm home!"

I suddenly remembered a not exactly irrelevant detail, and I whispered desperately, "Harry, your mom doesn't accept gays ..."

"Okay, she doesn't need to know why you got kicked out of the house," he reassured me, and I felt a little calmer.

We soon heard Anne approach the door and she simply said, "Harry, pack your bags."

"What?" he asked, confused.

She glared at him, "Pack your fucking bags and get the hell out of here. Johanna called me. you really let me down! You are just a disgrace to this family and I never want to see you in this house again!"

I saw Harry's lips tremble as he whispered, "But ... I'm only sixteen ... I don't know ... I can't ..."

"I don't give a damn, you should have thought about it before making your dirty decision," he grinned bitterly.

Harry frowned, "I didn't decide to-"

"Yes, yes, you are right, but now take things and go!" she went into the kitchen and I turned my attention to Harry, tears leaving from his eyes as he cast a glance at me.

I was about to speak but he walked into a corridor and then into a room, presumably his. I followed him. He grabbed a bag from his closet and began doing exactly what I had done in my room: stuffing clothes and essentials into it.

Once he was done, he went out and slammed the door. He threw the bag in the trunk of the car and we sat in our seats. We did not speak, not yet, and I drove casually, well almost casually, not knowing where to go.

I heard a sniffling and glanced at Harry, frowning as I noticed the tears still gushing down his cheeks, no matter how quiet he tried. I stopped in a semi-deserted parking lot, parking. Then I turned to him, "Harry please don't cry love ..."

"M'so sorry, didn't know you would have- I should have been more careful ..." he sobbed guilt-filled.

I immediately shook my head, unlocking his belt, taking him to sit on my chair and tightening him, "It's not your fault ... none of this is your fault, she already suspected something, baby, don't cry please, I hate to see you cry.."

"But I-i keep ruining your life!" he told me.

"What ... what are you talking about?" I asked with a frown.

It hadn't ruined my life at all. At most he had only improved it.

He wiped his tears away, sighing, "Zayn and Niall barely talk to you, your family kicked you out, no girl talks to you at school anymore, I-i broke up with you and y-you almost.. committed suicide, and I made you gay ... "

"Harry," I said sternly, "Those guys aren't even real friends, my family already hated me, I don't care about those bitches and ... okay that's not the point, but it wasn't you who make me gay ... it's just that I never realized it before I met you. "

"But your family ..." he faded sadly.

I shook my head with a frown, "It doesn't matter ... it would have happened anyway, in the end, she never liked my lifestyle. My mother has always hated me since I got my first tattoo and first piercing. " A small smile crept into his face as he traced all the lines of one of the tattoos on my arm with his finger.

He said softly to me, "I love your tattoos ... it's as if each of them has their own story ..."

I laughed softly, "Some have it ... others are ... mistakes, stupid, made while drunk."

He smiled slightly, his eyes still red from crying that made me frown. I hugged him to my chest and he sighed, almost contentedly, nestled under my chin. Silence fell and I looked out the window, noticing it was dark.

Harry suddenly whispered, "What do we do now?"

I shrugged, stroking his back gently, "I don't know ..."

"We're homeless," he muttered faintly.

"We will find a way ..." I tried to reassure him, although I wasn't even sure myself of what I was saying. In any case, seeing Harry scared made me feel bad and I needed to be brave, and strong. We both needed it.

Harry looked up at me, "Where are we going to sleep?"

"Hotel?" I suggested, but then frowned, "I have no money."

"Me neither," he admitted sadly.

I pressed a kiss to his forehead, making him slightly more relaxed. It made me feel proud to know it had that effect on him.

I thought about it for a while and then said, "I could call Niall, or Zayn."

"They hate me ..." he reminded me, but then corrected himself, "But y-you can go ... I'll find a way, I'll get by-"

"No, no, I'm not leaving you alone ..." I stated firmly, kissing his lips softly.

Harry frowned, "But where can we go? Liam hates you too. No offense..."

I sighed, "I guess we could sleep here tonight."

"In the car?" he asked, confused.

I moved a curl from his forehead, "It's the only option left ... the back is big enough for the two of us, it's just for 'tonight." Hopefully, I added mentally.

"But it's freezing," he pointed out, and we don't have sheets or blankets."

"I know love ..." my heart ached. At the fact

that we would have to sleep in that car in the winter, without blankets or heating, since I had no money for gas and we couldn't afford to waste it. But it was our only option. I could never leave Harry there, just to be able to stay warm in Zayn's or Niall's house.

He nodded reluctantly, and I opened the car door, standing up and opening the trunk. I grabbed my bag and pulled up the back seats. Harry frowned, "Why did you take your bag?"

"Pajamas, don't wanna sleep in jeans baby," I giggled softly.

He shrugged and we sat back in the seats, closing the doors tightly. I handed him some clothes and we changed. When we were done I lay down, using the sweatshirt I had as a pillow. Harry crouched on my chest and hugged him closer to me, to make sure he didn't slip off the seat.

"Night Boo," he whispered softly.

"Night Angel," I replied.

He fell asleep rather quickly, but I couldn't. My mind was torturing itself to find a solution to a situation.

I glanced at Harry. We couldn't live like this. The next day I would have to do something. It was by no means an adequate way to live for a sixteen year old like him.

I noticed that Harry was shaking slightly, his lips a little blue, and I frowned. We were in the middle of December, and it was freezing. I sat up slowly, taking off my sweatshirt and spreading it over him. I saw him crouch down, still asleep, and hugged him once more before falling into a deep sleep. Without even worrying about the cold air that caressed my bare arms.