Sunday, December 15


"Not saying I don't love having you here, but isn't your brother going to get suspicious?"

Harry's fingers trail lightly up and down my back, our bodies mostly overlapped while we lay on the couch. I've been studying all day and Harry has been helping me and doing some work, whatever teachers do, and I haven't been home since yesterday. He doesn't know this yet, but my brother actually knows where I am now. So it really isn't a problem. Sort of. I don't think Harry is going to like that bit of information, though.

"I texted him earlier. He's with Kylie anyway."

"Oh. Okay." He kisses my forehead and I shiver slightly. I"m only wearing his t-shirt right now and like I've said before, his place is always a little too cold.

"I'm going to go get a blanket," I tell him, lifting myself over him.

"I can get it."

I shake my head. "I'll do it." I lean down and kiss him a few times before climbing off the couch and running upstairs. I was just going to get the quilt he has on the bench at the foot of his bed, but the duvet just looks so inviting. I yank it off the bed and try to bunch it up as much as possible so I don't fall walking down the stairs. When I get close to the bottom I can't see Harry, but I can hear him laughing.

"Why didn't you just bring the whole bed down?" he teases. I finally get over to the couch and drop it on him so I can uncrumple it and put it around my shoulders. When it's set I move back to my position half on top of him and sort of squished against the back of the couch. He helps adjust the blanket over himself and me so only our heads and part of his shoulder are poking out from underneath.

"This is cozy," he says lowly.

"That is how Sundays are supposed to be spent." I kiss his cheek and lay back down so I can see the TV screen. "Now shush, I actually want to watch this movie."

"I can't believe you chose Taken. What girl wants to watch another girl get kidnapped and sold into sex slavery?"

"Shh! Liam Neeson is about to kick someone's ass!"

"Sorry," he laughs. I feel his hand start lightly moving up and down my back again while I try to pay attention to the movie. I can feel him watching my face instead of the screen and it's quite distracting.

"He's going to rescue her soon," I tell him. "Why don't you watch that instead of me?"

"I've seen it, I know how it ends."

As the last seen on the boat unfolds I feel Harry watching me most of the time, although there are a few moments where I can see his head turn towards the screen.

"I wish he was my dad. My actual dad could never do this." I slide myself on top of Harry and reach to the coffee table for the remote so I can turn it off.

"I totally could. Why are you turning it off, it's not over."

"I hate the end, it's annoying." I set it back down and take my place beside Harry again. He laughs a little.

"You're so weird."

My hand finds his under the duvet and I play with his fingers over his exposed chest. Days like this, the ones that I spend only with Harry, they make me feel so peaceful and happy. I've never had that before. I always felt like I was just going through the motions of my life, trying to make everyone happy while making attempts at feeling something. Anything. Now I'm just...I'm happy. And it's because of him.

"So, are you going home for Christmas?" I ask carefully. I still haven't tried to breach the subject of his past since yesterday and now I'm scared of ruining our day. But I can't help it.

"I don't know yet. Probably not. Liam and Sophia are staying here so Liam's parents are coming. I'll probably spend it with them."

"You don't want to see your family?" I lean on my arm and lift myself up so my face is higher than his. He looks tense.

"I guess so. It just..doesn't work out. I'll go see them another time."

"But it's Christmas."

"Why does it matter?" he asks, still calm but obviously trying his hardest to keep it that way. His fingers are no longer tracing my spine and his whole body seems more firm right now.

"I guess it doesn't. I was just curious," I say quietly. He slowly looks away from me and up at the ceiling. "Harry...you know you can talk to me, right?"

"About what?" he asks, not looking at me.

"Anything."

He sighs and takes his hand out of mine, shifting over and moving off the couch. He adjust his sweats on his waist as he walks towards the kitchen. Well apparently I've set him off again. He gets his phone off the counter and I sit up with the blankets still around me while he orders a pizza. When he's done he stays in the kitchen, milling around and avoiding eye contact with me. I don't understand this.

"Harry," I begin. He doesn't acknowledge me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Why do you keep asking questions? Can you not see that I don't want to talk about this? I thought I made that pretty clear," he says harshly. I blink a few times in surprise.

"I'm sorry that I want to know things about you," I say sarcastically. "I don't get it, why won't you talk to me?"

"I do! Just not about this!"

"Why though?" I repeat, throwing the blankets away from my body. I walk over to the kitchen where he is standing, leaning on his palms against the counter with his eyes closed. "You know everything about me, things that no one else does. I talk to you about things I don't even tell Mason and you can't even..." I sigh and stop next to him. "This has to be a two-way street, Harry. I feel like I don't know anything about you. The only parts of your past I know are the things your friends have said. You won't tell me anything."

"You know the important things, you know who I am now," he says quietly, opening his eyes but not looking at me.

"Your past is important. Your family, your childhood, all of that matters to me because I l-"

His eyes snap to mine and I clamp my mouth shut. What was I about to say? Not...no. I stare back at him like a deer in headlights for a few unbearably long seconds. Now I don't know what to say. Suddenly the issue we were just fighting about doesn't seem to matter. I almost just blurted out the three little words that could change everything, the ones I'm completely terrified of.

"I just...I care about you and I want you to feel like you can trust me," I say quietly. Harry's eyes search mine and he stands up straight. With one step he's directly in front of me, his eyes now a softer shade of green. He reaches up with one hand and rests it against my palm.

"I do trust you," he responds finally. I lean my head into his hand. "It's just...there's there's things I don't like to talk about."

"I don't understand why, though. I've told you so much about my parents and my life and I know nothing about yours except that you have a mother and a sister. That's it. That's the only thing you've shared with me."

"It's my choice, Savannah. If I don't want to talk about something I shouldn't have to."

"I realize that, but getting you to open up to me is like pulling teeth! I just want to feel like I know you." This is getting ridiculous. I'm starting to feel pathetic and needy and so...girlfriendy. I hate that.

"You do know me," he repeats. I sigh and step away from him, walking back to the couch. We're just going in circles. I sit back down and lay on my side, completely covering myself with the massive white duvet. With my face hidden completely, I take a few deep breaths to hold back my tears. I don't know why I'm getting so worked up about this. Maybe it's not a big deal and I'm making it harder than it needs to be. I don't want to be a crazy obsessive girlfriend that needs to know everything about every single part of Harry's life.

But doesn't it make sense that I'd want to know something? Like those letters he's been getting, the ones that bring a haunted look to his eyes and take him away from the present moment. I need to know what they are, why they effect him so much. Why isn't he going home for Christmas? Why would he want to spend it with Liam's family instead of his own? None of this makes sense to me. Even my parents are coming home to spend Christmas with me and Mason.

I hear a knock on the door and Harry sigh as he goes to open it. Once the pizza guy leaves he walks closer to me. I feel him sit on the couch in the space in front of my stomach.

"Savannah," he says softly. He doesn't sound angry, I guess that's a good sign. I don't respond, though. I feel ridiculous. He sighs again and gently peels the duvet back from my face. I refuse to look at him right now. I"m frustrated and embarrassed and vulnerable and that's like the worst combination ever.

"Are you hungry?" he asks finally. I roll my eyes and take the duvet back so I can re-cover myself.

"No," I spit shortly. Am I hungry? Seriously?!

"Savannah, I don't want to fight with you."

"Okay so let's just sweep our problems under the rug and hope that we never get to the point in our relationship where me knowing about your family is actually important."

He roughly tugs the blanket back this time. The swift motion draws my eyes to his. He does not look very happy.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he growls.

"Well you don't want to tell me important things, so clearly you're not serious about me," I spit back. He glares at me, his eyes slightly darker with his anger. "And don't say it's not important, because if that was true you wouldn't have a problem telling me."

I stand and walk around the other side of the coffee table. I have a strong urge to just storm out of here but that wouldn't solve anything.

"You think because I don't want to tell you stupid shit about my family that I'm not serious about you? Are you kidding?" He says loudly. I stop in the kitchen and turn towards him, my arms crossed over my chest. He stands and comes over to me.

"What am I supposed to think?"

"Oh I don't know, how about I'm risking my career and reputation to be with you and countless other things. What do you think this is about for me? Sex? Something to entertain myself? What?"

"That's not the point!" I shout back.

"Apparently it is because you think I don't care about you!"

"I want you to prove it!"

His whole body tenses. "Prove it?" he says, his voice eerily quiet. He takes a few more steps towards me, his stature and the look in his eyes more intimidating than I've ever seen.

"People in a serious relationship share things. If you don't trust me enough to tell me about your past then clearly you're not that serious about me," I venture bravely.

"And how would you know what people in serious relationships do?" he asks, in that same dangerous, quiet voice. I feel like he just punched me in the stomach.

"Are you seriously going to throw that in my face?" I whisper. "I opened up to you about my past and you're going to use it to insult me?"

He closes his eyes and I take a small step back from him. Harry has never been this way with me bore, he's never intentionally tried to hurt me. I don't know how we're supposed to move forward if he can't share one tiny thing.

"I'm not asking for your fucking life story, Harry. I just want to know one thing. That's it. I didn't realize it was so much to ask," I say quietly, my voice quivering. He rubs his face with both hands a few times before finally looking at me again. I want to sound and appear strong and unaffected by his harsh words, but I know that I'm failing.

After a few painfully long moments he holds one hand out to me.

"Come here."

I hesitate and look at his hand for a minute before looking back up at his eyes. They're softer now, warmer. He steps towards me with his hand still outstretched.

"Savannah," he says softly. I look down at his hand and slowly slide mine into it. I watch while his large hand swallows mine. "I'm sorry."

I look back up at his face and he pulls my hand towards his body, making me come closer. He puts his other hand on my lower back and pulls me against him as he leans down to press his forehead to mine. I slide my hands up his arms to rest on either side of his neck.

"I'm sorry," he says again. "That was uncalled for."

"Yeah," I breathe. My hands move down to his chest and I pull my face away from his. His eyes dance between mine and his large hands rest on either side of my face.

"I know I'm being unreasonable," he admits.

"I don't understand," I whisper. He nods.

"I know." He sighs and his thumbs sweep across both my cheeks. "Come on."

Harry leads me back to the couch, lifting the duvet so we can sit under it together. He pulls my bended legs onto his lap and puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling my body against his. I lean into him so my forehead his against his neck.

"I left for a reason," he says, his voice firm. "I wanted to get away from all of it. Somehow it keeps...finding me."

"What do you mean?"

"Doesn't matter." I do my best not to roll my eyes. It does matter. "The point is, my life there was complicated. I don't tell people about it easily. Louis and Eleanor are the only ones that really know everything. Liam and Sophia know bits and pieces, same with the other friends I left behind."

"If you're not comfortable-"

"No, it's not that. I'm just not used to talking about it."

I nod and snuggle closer to him. At least he's explaining himself now. Sort of. I reach up and gently run my fingertips over the sparrow adorning the left side of his chest.

"What are the letters you've been getting?" I ask, testing my luck. He stiffens slightly at first, but then he exhales and relaxes again.

"They're from my sister," he says quietly. I wait quietly to see if he'll divulge more. "She's been...updating me on some things. There was a lot going on when I left."

"Was that a coincidence or were you trying to get away?"

"I always wanted to come here but I wasn't sure it would happen. Then everything changed and I just needed to take a step back."

"California is a pretty big step," I joke, trying to lighten the mood. I smile when I hear his soft laugh.

"Yeah." He lifts his hand and takes mine from his chest so he can hold it. We sit in silence for a while and while I"m disappointed that he isn't telling me any details, I feel more hopeful. This is a start, right? It's better than nothing, that's for sure. I just wish we could have avoided all the fighting.

"My parents are getting divorced," he says quietly, almost so quietly that I wouldn't hear him if I wasn't so close. I lift my head to look at him. He looks so sad, so vulnerable right now as his emerald eyes look into mine.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, taking my hand out of his and placing it against his cheek. He closes his eyes briefly. I want to ask why but..maybe I shouldn't.

"It's a long time coming," he continues. "They never should have gotten married in the first place. The only reason my mum stayed with him was for me and my sister."

I can see in his eyes that there are a million memories playing through his head and by the look on his face each one is more painful than the last.

"I don't....I can't.."

"Shh, it's okay," I whisper, running my thumb along his bottom lip. He closes his eyes and I lift the blanket so I can sit on his lap, one leg on either side. He rests his hands on my hips and I lean down to press my forehead to his. "Thank you."

He doesn't say anything, just sighs and lightly runs his hands up and down my sides. My fingers play with his curls and we just sit like that in silence for a few minutes. I'm more curious than ever, but I'm not about to ask him to tell me everything right now. It's obviously not easy for him.

"I'm going to heat up the pizza, okay?" I lift my head and he nods, smiling weakly at me. I gently press my lips to his, a tender kiss that hopefully comforts him. When I stand he just watches me. I didn't realize how hungry I was, so instead of sticking the whole pizza in the oven for a few minutes I just pop a few pieces in the microwave. When they're done I bring them over to Harry, then get two for myself. After removing two beers from the fridge and getting my plate I make my way back over to where Harry is.

"If we didn't have to go to school tomorrow we could totally get drunk right now." He laughs and shakes his head at me while he takes a bite of his pizza. "What! That's always a good solution to these things. Whenever my mom is a bitch to me I just steal an expesive bottle of wine and get drunk."

"By yourself?"

"Sometimes."

"That's a little sad," he says, laughing again.

"Wel that's my life," I chirp. "Do you want to watch another movie?"

"You don't want to study anymore?" he asks, getting his beer off the table.

"Please, I'm going to kick that chemistry exam's ass tomorrow." I stand and walk over to the TV. For normal people, a comedy might be a cheering up type movie. Harry is special, though. He likes sappy movies for some reason. After putting in the disc for the Titanic I take my spot next to him again.

"Yes, I love this movie," he says, starting another piece of pizza. He leans over with his mouth full and kisses me on the cheek.

"Ew." I wipe my cheek and he raises his eyebrows before sitting forward to set his plate down.

"I'm sorry, do I disgust you?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

I nod and he takes my plate, quickly setting it down and then crawling on top of me. Still with food in his mouth his plants kisses all over my face while I laugh uncontrollably.

"Harry!" I put my hand son his face and try to stop him, but I'm weak from laughing so much. Eventually he stops and sits back in his position, a smug smile on his face. I roll my eyes and pick up the duvet to wipe my face.

"Hey, that's white! You're going to stain it!"

"Then you shouldn't have stained my face."

"Here, just use this," he says, reaching forward and putting his hand under his shirt that I'm wearing. He lifts it up and wipes all over my face, also revealing my bra and underwear in the process.

"You're annoying today," I tease. He finally finishes and presses his lips to mine before I can even look at him. I wrap my arms around his neck and he presses my down into the couch so he's lying on top of me, his hands against my bare skin. He suddenly breaks the kiss and looks down at me.

"I really do trust you. You know that, right? This isn't a random fling for me, I really care about you."

I nod and brush his hair back. "I know."

Notes

took a loooong time. sorry for the breaks in updating but school is crazay.
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