Coming Home

H. P. O. V

Priceless heart. Love carved out of gold.

"So, basically, you only need a spoonful and a half, babe. Maybe even less. Depends on the type of day you're having."

"What if I'm having a bad day?"

Presley, clicks her tongue, and tilts her head, lazy smile on her lips. "Then maybe two, if it's that bad. One if your day is great. One and a half if your day is okay, and two if you're sad."

"You are so bloody cute," a blush speckles across her cheeks, as she drops her gaze to the steaming mugs placed in front of her. She chuckles to herself, and runs her hand through her hair. "You're going to make my cuppa right? Only you?"

She licks her lips, and grins. "We'll see baby, baby, baby."

That's all I need to bring her near, and tight, winding my arms around her middle, and smelling her hair.

"I'll make yours, if you make mine."

"Persistent, pop star, I see."

"Yes," I say, hands rubbing along the top of her stomach. "Your dad called while you were asleep, love."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, forgot until now. Wants to see us."

She hums, and shrugs. "Okay, what time?"

"In--" I look at the clock attached to the wall, and sigh. "An hour. Are you up for it?"

She shrugs once more, and takes a small sip of the mug. "When it comes to my father, we don't really have a choice, Hazard. Might as well."

I smirk, and nod. "Should probably get dressed then. I mean, I love you with no pants, but that's only for me to see."

"S'too cold to walkout without them anyway."

"Cheeky baby," I pucker. Cuter than a baby cat, sweeter than sacks of sugar. "Let me help you." I persuade. She laughs, light and sweet and allows me to lead her to the room we've been sharing for the past three days. "I wish the world was just us," I mutter in her ear.

"Then it is."

****

"Daddddd!" Presley screams, legs dashing to meet her dad's arms. He laughs, picks her, and squeezes her.

"Baby, I've missed you!"

"I've only been gone three days."

"That's forever to your father," her mum chortles, smiling my way. "Hi Harry," she address politely. Like, she's not mad at me. And half of me wants to believe she's not, the other half wants to kick myself for being so naïve.

I return her hug gently, her hand rubs at my back, and for a second it feels okay. No animosity. No hidden resentment.

"S'about time you brought my girl back," Louis calls out, walking down the stairs, heading straight for Presley. "Pretzel, my dear, why have you been cooped up for so long? Been naughty, eh?"

Everyone but her dad musters a laugh. Her cheeks are speckled pink, as she slaps Louis' arm. "My dad's here. I plead the fifth." She turns her attention to her dad, and smiles her most innocent smile. "I don't even know what sex is dad."

"Uh-Hu," he tuts, hand reaching for mine. "Harry," he says. His eyes are still hard, and I know he hasn't completely forgiven me. That he doesn't fully trust me, and that's okay, because I'm a knob, and I know it's going to be a while before he ever warms up to me. "Glad you could make it for dinner."

"Thank you, sir."

"Ben?" Presley asks, hesitantly.

"Upstairs. I think it's safe," Lou's smiles, motioning for the stairs. Presley sucks in a breath and nods, already heading that way. She smiles in my direction, before she's out of my sight, and I'm left alone with a room of people who may hate me, and Louis who seems to only tolerate me.

"So," her dad, asks. "Come. Sit, make yourself comfortable."

I do as instructed and sit in the nearest couch, Louis joining me, and patting my thigh. "What have you two been up to?"

I'm going to give myself permission to lie. I'd rather avoid an untimely death, by admitting we were having sex.

"We talked mostly," only half a lie. "It felt like we were getting to know each other again, in a way. It was nice."

"Yeah?"

"It felt good," I mumble, Louis already making a face. "Lou--"

"Ben's not mad," he says, reading my mind. "Well he is. But not at her. At you."

"Awesome." I sigh.

"Don't take it too hard, Harry," Presley's dad says. "He's a good friend to my kid. Give him time. We all have to warm up to you again."

"I know," it's true, and I accept that, because I fucked up, and it's already a miracle he's not kicking me out, after everything. "I really am sorry sir. If I could go back, and not do any of it, I would."

"I know you wouldn't. It's just going to take a bit of time for my mind to remember that. It's still fuzzy, making you out to be the bad guy."

"Harry's not that bad. He's an idiot." Louis shrugs easily, folding both arms over his chest.

"We all get that," Steve laughs. I'm positive I'm blushing, and since I can't really say much, I nod, and bite my bottom lip. "When do you boys head back?"

"Ben and I, head back the day after tomorrow."

"So do I," I scratch my scalp. Presley's dad, raises both eyebrows at me, surprised.

"Is Presley going with you?" The way I answer this question is crucial. Could decide if I end up bruised, or alive.

"I have a ticket for her, ready, if she wants. I won't push her, but I won't lie, sir. I'm not ready to be without her, yet, when I just got her back. I'm really hoping she'll come if she wants."

"I secretly hoping she'll stay, because she's missed me too much, but I doubt it."

"Maybe she will," Louis' empathizes. "Presley's full of all kinds of surprises. Chances are, she'll become the next great ruler."

"I've missed my girl," he says, making me feel bad for wanting to take her away. He's her dad, and I know that's important, he's important. But, I also know, I feel too dependent to be without her.

I just. I want to be around her, all the time. And maybe that's a side effect of not having her for so long.

Either way, I don't think I can leave her here, or be without her.

"Maybe, you and the missus can come visit us?" His face brightens slightly, and I want to pat myself on the back for it. "We can make a Holliday of it. Go exploring, and trying new foods. It'd be great."

"Sounds great," he agrees, with an easy smile. "You're a good kid, Harry. I may still kick your ass, but you're a good kid."

"Thank you, sir."

"He's a right down pain, Steve. Don't you lie to him." Louis chimes, amused grin on display.

"I won't argue there."

"I'm offe--"

"Ben, stop!" Presley's giggle, cuts me off, and brings my attention upstairs.

"They seem to have made up," Steve laughs.

"Yeah, Ben can't really stay mad at her. I bet he's still got a tiny bit of his crush left."

What? Well, that can't be right. He's gay, but Louis must not know that... "Crush? Who had a crush?"

Lou looks at me, surprised, like he can't believe he let something so valuable slip.

"He's gay," I remind him.

"Yes, but even gay guys can have crushes on a special girl. Presley was Ben's special girl, I guess." Louis' using a tone of voice, I've heard other people use, when they want to down play certain things.

"Ben had a crush on Presley?" I don't see it, and Louis must be incredibly daft, if he does.

"Don't get all protective, Harry. S'not like he admitted his undying love for her. He was just so attached, it manifested into a crush of some sort. S'kind of cute, if you the about it."

"He's gay," I emphasize.

"So? Gay guys' can have crushes on girls all the time. Same way a girl, who likes girls, can like a boy. Not a big deal, Harry. People, of every gender, can like whoever. No need to get insecure."

But I can't help and get insecure, as I hear Presley laughing, and a smacking sound. And for Ben's safety, he better be kissing the wall.

"Yes, well," what I really want to say, is that 'I don't like it'. "Did you know about this sir?"

"Just found out, myself, Harry. Not really surprised though." He shrugs and leans back. "Ben has always had a soft spot for Presley."

"Everyone has a soft spot for Presley," I sigh.

"She gets it from me."

"Sure she does, sweetie," Presley's mum laughs, padding into the living room. "Dinner is almost finished. Harry, Louis go wash up. Don't want you getting sick from all the germs on your hands."

****
I notice the smallest things, now, and I hate it.

The way Ben will lean towards Presley's shoulder, and drop his head on it. Or how he'll smile for three seconds too long, and laugh at every sarcastic comment Presley makes, without meaning too.

They have these inside jokes, that will make them giggle, like school girls. They'll smile, a sort of special smile, (one that I don't think I've seen before) and Ben will subtly, place his hand over hers, like it's okay.

Even if it's not.

And being in the loop, and knowing something, you know you didn't have too know, but you're glad you found out, is both the best and worst thing.

"Take a picture, pop star," Ben breaks me out of my trance. "It'll last longer."

When I focus, I take in Ben's smirk, and I wish I could hit him. I really do.

The table erupts in quiet laugh. The kind of laugh that is used to bring down the level of awkward, that has already evolved, and spread.

"Looking a little constipated, Harry."

"I'm kind of tired," I reply coyly.

"When do you head back?"

"Same day as you and Lou," so many questions, for someone who likes pressing my buttons.

"Are you going back too, Presley?" Suddenly, Presley becomes the focus, and everyone's eyes fall on her. Including mine. Presley, however, isn't paying attention, her eyes are down, fork playing with her food, moving it around.

She looks up, seconds later, and gasps. "What?"

I turn in my chair slightly, and I wish I had brought this up sooner. "I know we haven't talked about it, yet," I say before Ben can speak. Again. "Would you like to come back with me?"

Her eyes widen. "Like, go back? When?"

"In two days," I say slowly. She looks at her parents, starring at them, eyes searching, I think. For something. Approval, maybe a sign. "We can talk about it before you decide, if you want?"

"Okay, well, I kind of want you all to stop starring at me, first." So everyone, except me and her dad do. I guess we're not the best listeners. "I don't-- I haven't even thought about that. I forgot that eventually, I'd have to go back." This gets my attention. The hesitance in her voice, wounds my heart, and I'm sure, I can feel Ben smirk. She runs her hand through her hair, and sighs.

"You don't have to go back with Harry, baby," I don't like the way that sounds. Or, how easy, her dad was able to say that. "If you think you still need time, then stay. You've only been here, two weeks, sweetheart."

Presley, finally looks at me, and smiles. It's a tiny smile, could pass off as her lips twitching, even.

"Can I get back to all of you? I'm going to go lay down, and try to figure out some things. Who knows, maybe I'll come up with a solution for global warming." Sometimes, Presley doesn't realize how cute she is. How I'm wrapped around her finger, and every time she speaks, I feel like she's discovered a new planet.

"Can I go too?" I have to ask before Ben can offer to go. Even if I'll get punched. Her dad gives me a look, that frightens a tiny part of my soul. He nods, though, and says the door has to stay open, if I want to be able to have kids in the future. Presley turns pink, and walks off, as I trail behind her.

"Can I be honest?" Her bed is big, warm, and soft. The comforter is white, with patches. And there's a Christmas blanket, draped messily, on the side. She nods, and settles against her pillows. "I don't want to leave you. I'd stay if the label gave us more time off, but they're impatient pricks. It's selfish, and I seem like a total knob, but I don't want to go without you."

She looks torn. Sad almost. "You'll be okay."

"You're not coming?"

"I don't-- I'm not very good with sudden questions, Hazard. I'm slow."

"I just got you back," it sounds weak. Like a minimal excuse that I came up with, on the spot. Still, at the same time, it's all I can manage without crying like a bitch. "I-- we're finally us, again, baby. I can't leave, knowing you won't be there."

"It took a while, didn't it?" I hum, and drop my head to her chest. Her hand slides to my hair, as mine wrap around her. "It's a scary decision, baby, baby, baby."

"It doesn't have to be," I mumble. "I've got you."

"Yeah," she whispers, softly.

"I wish the world was just us." I slur, my eyes already dropping.

"Then it is." And I wish it was. I really do.

Notes

When I was ten, I saw a dog get run over, and I cried for two days. I've been traumatized since then. Xx