The Fence || h. s.

31 || The Jealous Kind

A/N: This is part of a double update, so if you haven't read Cherry's letter yet, go back to the previous chapter! Also, the picture above shows their looks for the event.

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Harry has been nothing if not a generous host for the first three days I spent at his house. Despite my protests, he's been catering to my every need with way more enthusiasm than necessary. 

To some extent, I understand that it's his way of dealing with my near-death in the fire—he did, after all, experience the entire thing with me in a way. Hence why no matter how hard he pushes to be around me, I allow him to do whatever's necessary to afford him peace of mind. At least that way, one of us has it.

However, I also need to be alone every now and then. Finding a moment of privacy with Harry tied to my hip at all times is a near-impossible task. In a way, the nights have become my 'me' time, but even those have been spoiled by the constant flood of nightmares. 

Just like tonight.

Feeling tired, but mostly frustrated with my inability to sleep, I snatch the covers off my sweaty skin and stomp out of the room. Thankfully, I have become a pro at roaming this house at night; the way to the kitchen must be engraved in my muscle memory at this point. 

This time though, my walk in the dark is interrupted when I bump into a rock hard body in my path. The memory of my attacker flashes before my eyes, much like a scene from some b-rated horror flick. No longer can I stop the panic from taking over—a shrill cry escapes my parted mouth as I collapse against the wall, cowering in fear.

"Love, it's just me, s'me." Harry's tone is soothing as he flicks the light on which illuminates the deep lines of worry on his face.

Angrily wiping off the few stray tears that fell out, I push his hand away with a snarl. "Why the hell are you walking around in the dark?"

"Technically, you were doing the same–" he begins with a chuckle, but as of right now, I am nowhere close to a laughing mood. 

"Can you stop following me around? You're such a fucking creep!" A frown slides onto my face as soon the words leave my mouth, because I know that he doesn't deserve it. Not even remotely. 

Yes, Harry has been getting on my nerves with his constant need to coddle me like a child, but the motivation behind his concern is genuine. 

"I'm sorry," I whisper, stopping his retreating hand by lacing our fingers together. "I didn't mean any of it. I'm just scared, and sleep-deprived, and angry at those– those psychopaths."

"S'alright, you don't have to explain," he murmurs, "and you're right. I do need to give you some space."

"No, no," I take a few calming breaths before saying, "You can stay, just don't sneak up on me, please. I've been really… jumpy after it all."

He nods as he tugs on my hand to pull me up to my feet. His eyes roam my face, glistening with an emotion I'm not sure I want to read. Finally, he murmurs, "I can be a lot sometimes. I'm aware of it."

Chewing on my inner cheek, I shake my head in denial. "H, honestly, we're good–"

"No, listen to me," he insists, sounding determined, as if he was trying to prove something not only to me but mostly to himself. "I am an overbearing twat. Trust me, I'm aware of it. When things don't go my way, I spend hours obsessing over it, wondering what I could have done differently. More often than not, I don't know how to let the past go, but…" he pauses, pulling me into him, "I just want to make sure you don't get hurt on my watch, okay?"