Cover Your Tracks [HS][2014 VERSION]

55. Take Care

"I've loved and I've lost . . ."

My father used to tell me how important sleep was. It was something he often lacked, spending the majority of his days exhausted and ready to leave the office and return to the warmth of his bed. He said there was nothing better—returning to your home, to the familiarity of the walls and sheets that you had come to find comfort in.

I manage to get a few more hours of desperately needed sleep throughout the early morning. My slumber is anything but peaceful, however, bumps along the railroad tracks jolting me awake as well as the squealing of the locomotive's brakes as it rounds a turn. Every time my eyes reluctantly open, Harry is right there, staring down at me with pursed lips and frown lines.

It is in his hold that I drift in and out of sleep. Sometimes, images of my father manage to slip through the cracks of my subconscious. I wake like this, all wide eyes and frantic movements and ragged breaths. Perhaps this is what causes Harry to stare down at me so solemnly. He doesn't speak, only holds my gaze until my own falters, blackening into a state of nothingness.

I can feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness and the change in atmosphere as the sun rises higher into the sky. The air being sucked into the moving box cart is thin and frigid, biting away at the bits of exposed skin that my clothes leave vulnerable. I remember curling into a tight ball and wrapping my arms around myself in an attempt to rid the goosebumps that had seemed to envelope me like a disease.

I remember Harry taking me in his arms and turning me so that I was in the corner. He moves to sandwich my body between his and the wall, turning his bare back towards the oncoming wind. I want to say something, I really do, but the newfound warmth wraps around me like a blanket and lulls me into a deep, peaceful slumber.

His gesture buys me another hour or so before my time runs out. My surroundings are a whirlwind of confusion upon finally awakening, the exhaustion in my strained eyes distorting my view in the dark, cramped box cart. Shadows dance around in my vision, toying with my perception of reality and imagination. Shattered is the line that divides the two.

"Country."

His green eyes appear translucent in the bright morning light. The edge of his jawline is sharp, cheekbones hollowed out. The mop of curls sat atop his head is wilder than usual, the tendrils wrapping around the tips of his ears and pointing in every direction.

He nods his head to the side. Unsure, I reluctantly follow his gaze to the world outside as it flies by. Through the fog and haze that settles closely to the ground, I make out the outline of buildings and the twinkling of lights. There is a mutual understanding upon returning my gaze to Harry.

Rolling off of his chest and to the side, I reach for his balled-up t-shirt and toss it to him. It's caught mid-air and pulled over his head. The muscles in his arms bulge with the effort and his stomach grows taut, abs and v-lines on temporary display. The show doesn't last long before the black curtain is drawn, the hemline of his t-shirt falling just past his belt.

We rise and stand together as if we are on a stage. Eyes focused on the grassy expanse of the land below, we move to stand with our toes just coming short of reaching the opening. Harry nudges me in search of my attention and I grant him it, peering up at him through my eyelashes.

"Ready?"

I swallow down the lump in my throat and look back at the ground, at the blur of the land as it passes beneath us. My heart palpates wildly in my chest. The ringing in my ears acts as a distraction; result of the adrenaline pumping viciously throughout my body.

"My heart is pounding," I tell him.

An amused smile graces his lips, dimple indenting alongside the crooked corner of his mouth. The sight is like a beacon of light in the midst of a blackened sea. I know that without him and without family—I would be stumbling blindly through the dark.