Wildfire - H.S

40

For someone who got the bare minimum sleep to function last night, I'm surprisingly awake.

You'd think, sitting in the sun all morning - effectively alone with absolutely nothing to do than allow your imagination to wander - I'd be tired.

But my mind has been hyperactive, overflowing with questions and thoughts from whatever happened between me and Harry last night.

The whole narrative between us has switched on this trip. I can't quite explain it, but something is off.

I don't know if it's me, or him, or a combination of the two of us.

But it's playing on my mind and I can't work it out. And therefore I have no clue if it's a good change, or if it's the demise of our relationship.

I just simply couldn't sleep because of it.

There we both laid awake resting for at least an hour in utter silence besides the mixture of our heavy breaths, the adrenaline slowly seeping out of us. Until he finally dozed off into a deep slumber.

It was weird how much happened yesterday, it felt like a lifetime all in a day. We went from laughing, to intimate, to teasing, to intimate, back to laughing again.

The night ended with both of us together in the shower, the closest I've ever felt to him.

And by the time we'd finished in there, dried off and gotten into bed it was probably between 3am and 4am.

I was exhausted. My whole body aching, not only my muscles but my bones. It felt like being thirteen again with growing pains.

But no matter how much I was in desperate need of sleep, my mind was a carnival. Jumbled with questions and thoughts I couldn't decipher.

My whole body was just as restless as my mind. I couldn't stop fidgeting and that's very unlike me. I'm mostly an incredibly calm sleeper. So I knew if I carried on the way I was, tossing and turning and rolling about in the bed Harry would be awoken by me.

I'm really not the best liar to begin with. And I'd feel bad having to try and explain what was going on in my mind, when I myself didn't know to begin with.

So, I did the only thing I knew would make me feel better.

I called my mom.

My mom has been my best friend my whole life. She's always been there to give advice and an outsider's perspective, no matter what the situation is.

I could have called Esme. I would have called Esme.

But how on earth am I supposed to talk to her about Harry, when I myself don't even know what I wanted to say.

Idiotically, I didn't even think of what time it was when I was calling my mom. I felt bad when she answered, and you could easily tell she had just woken up.