Legendary // H.S

31.

'No speed limit this is the fast lane'

*

Having the whole team together is usually fun, but given the circumstances, that element of joy has slipped away recently. While Louis and I sit in the study, I know the others are discussing not just the logistics of the upcoming theft, but the issues pertaining to my safety. They've not made much effort to keep quiet, either. Even though we're in an entirely different room down the hall, I can hear Harry's voice boom against the walls from his office. My name has been mentioned a few times, and then it hushes again, probably when they talk about things they really don't want me to know just yet.

The thought of them spending so much of their time and energy on protecting me weighs heavily on me. I barely know these people, only around them when dealing with work. Other than Harry, that is. Although he only reveals small pieces of information to me, it's a start, and I feel much closer to him these days. Not just because we've given in to the physical aspect of things, but because of those little moments of quiet and calm between us.

Last night was one of my bad nights, reliving the worst experience of my life. Like every other time it's happened, the memories felt just as real as they did that night. I hoped it wouldn't happen, in truth I stupidly forgot about them after the bliss I felt when we went to sleep. But just like always, it materialised into my consciousness and paralysed me. Other than Dad, the only person that's seen me endure these episodes is Cathy. Joe always slept through them; I'd try my best to be quiet because I knew he'd be shit with helping me. I didn't want to burden him either.

When Cathy experienced them, she tried her best to calm me. On occasion she'd ask questions, but for a long time she's realised I won't open up to her about it. When I tried to talk to Mum about it at the time, it didn't go well. Though Dad was always supportive, the pain of having your own parent not believe your trauma is enough to deter you from ever speaking of it again.

Yet, Harry was there, even without the information, and he made sure I was alright, he actively found something to take my mind off of things. We don't owe each other much, but he felt obliged to be there for me in a time of need. When he woke this morning, his head still resting at an angle on my shoulder as the morning sun shone in, the first thing he asked was how I was feeling. A simple question, really, the bare minimum after someone endures what I have, but it was the way he said it that struck me. So much concern laced in his voice, even when he'd barely had time to process why we were still at the piano. It's like the moment his brain woke up he instantly recalled the events that had occurred hours before. Like it couldn't be erased, and his sleeping mind forced him to not forget.

Even with a crook in his neck, evident from the audible groan when he sat up, he still made sure I was the focus. Something about it made me feel warmer, somehow. My chest burned, but not uncomfortably, more so in relief, satisfaction. It instantly made me remember the words he spoke before we had sex.

I can't get you out of my fucking head... I can't bear the thought of you not being alright.

Words that no man has said to me before, not even Joe, the very person that proposed to me not long ago. At no point in that relationship did I feel those same butterflies I did when Harry said those words to me last night. It awakened something in me, though I'm still not sure what. I never considered him thinking of me this way, I'd never have believed it. But he said it. I play on his mind the same way he plays on mine.

Whatever this means, I'm not sure I want it to end. It could be dangerous, a death wish based on how against it he is, but it feels too good to stop. I can't.

Conversation was light this morning, playful to a certain extent. Harry was attentive, as always, but even more so. He cooked breakfast, made sure I ate everything on the plate, spent as much time with me as he could before the others arrived. It was a happy little moment of peace. He complimented my piano playing too, insisting I could come and use it whenever I needed to let off some steam. A kind gesture. The minute the team arrived he went back to the hard, stony exterior that he usually displays, any remnants of care gone.