Pirouette [h.s.]

chapter 12

// but tonight I could fall too soon //

// under this beautiful moonlight //

"Catch Me" -Demi Lovato

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Today is October 12th. Autumn Arabesque with Battu.

Today is my first chance to make it in the city.

In 30 minutes, I will be taking the stage for my solo in front of the audience, packed with scouts looking for dancers to pick up holiday program shows.

To say that I'm nervous is a horrendous understatement.

Harry sent me a text this morning wishing me good luck and letting me know that he'll have his fingers crossed for me today.

San Francisco went from kicking my ass to wrapping my wounds all in the span of a few weeks. I'm not exactly sure what changed. I mean, I'm still working myself to the ground between Battu and Dino's. But now I have Harry. And Lacey. And, honestly, even Tate. People to rely on.

I've decided it's not worth fighting anymore. I can try to avoid Harry and pretend that he's nothing, but it's pointless. He's going to continue to run around in my mind whether I let him into my life or not. Like he makes up the clouds, hanging in the open air, floating across endless blue.

So, I've relinquished the fight. It's helped, a little bit. I'm not fighting some battle anymore, I'm not at war with my head. It's just become a part of my reality. I'm going to let Harry in, there's no use in trying to fight it.

If there's no holding back, there's no failure. When those feelings that I try so desperately to contain start to seep out, I feel like I'm losing control. That's where the anxiety comes in. It's just a tidal wave of fear, swallowing my insides whole.

That's not to say that I've been too vulnerable with him, though. Just that I've started to break down my wall – enough that he can peak in every now and then. Not too deep, but enough to be human. He makes it easy to do, though. Almost too easy.

Harry can read me better than I thought he could. It's like I don't have to explain myself with him. He just understands. Like him showing up at my apartment to bring me to Tate's last week. I really did want to go, but I didn't want to insert myself somewhere I didn't belong. I had so much fun with the two of them, and sweet Maisie. Especially considering how the night ended.

I had pushed him away after kissing him that first night, drunk in my apartment, and subsequently backed away from any circumstance that would make us come even somewhat close to kissing again. When he was in at Dino's, leaning all the way over the counter, so close that I could smell the mint of his toothpaste. Or at the park eating lunch when he wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. I was too in my head about him – trying to deny that I even wanted to kiss him again.

But something hit me last week at the park. While we sat there, as I fed the ducks; he covered me in his jacket, and I felt safe. Truly, genuinely safe.

Not like the safety of seeing him at the bar, or that one night at Dino's. I felt safe at Dino's because he was protecting me from the man. I felt safe at the bar because I was drunk off my ass and he was a familiar face. But at the park?

There was no reason for me to feel unsafe, and yet I felt safer sitting beside Harry.

He became the seawall – defensive and staggering against the rolling waves crashing into the shore. The storm cellar I could bunker down into, safe from spiraling cyclones and sheets of bullet rain.