Moonlight [H.S]

the forty-seventh

June 12th
New York, NY

I have to pee. Really bad. But there's a sleeping, British, boyfriend stopping me from doing so. I can't fall asleep in silence, but Harry can't stay asleep without holding something. Im not quite sure what he did before he had a girlfriend because I do recall him kicking girls as soon as the sex was over. Maybe he used a pillow or something. I love cuddling with Harry so I'm not complaining. Except for right now. Because my bladder is full, and I have to focus all my energy into not pissing right now.

It's still pretty early. There's no sound coming from outside, so I think everyone else is asleep. The sun is shining outside and laying a calm blanket of warmth over our sleeping bodies. Which is soothing but not helping my need to pee.

The bathroom is two steps away from the bed. But every time I try to move, Harrys arms tighten around my body.

Finally, I inhale deeply and pry his ink covered arms off of my body and run to the bathroom. I don't slide the doors closed because I'll be right back. Mid-pee I see Harry start to move a bit in his sleep and I frown. I stand up and wash my hands, pulling my shorts up and walking back to bed so he doesn't wake up.

Just when I think I've gotten away with it, "Now I'm up..." Harry mumbles in his deep, sleepy morning voice. His words vibrate on my back and I close my eyes with a lazy smile.

"I'm sorry baby..." I mumble and kiss his arm, "I really had to pee." He smiles against the skin of my neck.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't pee on the bed. It's good you woke me up anyways. Was havin' a bad dream." He mumbles and I turn my head to try and look at him.

"About what?" I frown at the thought of him being alone in his head. I know what its like to be alone and terrified in a nightmare and I hate that other people have to go through that. I've gotten pretty good at waking up from dreams and nightmares. I squeeze my eyes shut and open them and I'm back in real life. Sometimes, when I'm having an especially horrible one it doesn't work. I don't really know how I do it, but I've been doing it since I was little. But sometimes I didn't want to wake up from the nightmare. I thought that being chased around a building by mysterious men in black suits was less terrifying than my real life.

"Just bein' a helpless little kid. All those memories still in my head." I turn around to look at him completely. His eyes stare straight into mine like he seems completely fine with everything.

"Harry..." I say lowly, "Don't pull a me. Tell me how you're feeling." I say and he exhales, looking up at the ceiling for a second.

"Y'know the haze you have after a nightmare where you kind of feel empty?" I nod and he continues, "And when it's a memory it leaves you thinking about all the horrible things?" I hum and look straight into his eyes, "'M feelin' that. Y'know my childhood wasn't that great. Family stuff was good but I didn't have too many friends. No one was really there for me. Got pushed around a bit." He mumbles and sits up, pulling me up on his lap.

"Pushed around a bit?"

"I was a small scrawny kid and other kids saw that as a way to take out their problems and insecurities." I know the feeling. Being a helpless little kid with no one to turn to. I tried to talk to my mom about it but she would ignore me. She either didn't believe me or didn't care. Eventually I stopped bothering anyone about it because I didn't want to burden them with my problems. That's why, when I got to highschool and my friends were bullying kids I was terrified to tell them to stop. I didn't want to become that kid again.

And I think that was why I was so insistent that I hated Harry.

He made me feel like that 11-year-old little girl who was constantly made fun of by the older kids.