Anchor {h.s}

sixteen

"Gemma."

With that small word I could feel Harry's world falling apart.

His mask was built on the fact that he kept his distance with everyone, especially his family. However, no matter what had happened two years ago, I knew that Harry was very fond of his sister, that even if he were trying to convince himself that he didn't care, she would always have a place in his heart. His problems weren't with Gemma, it was with his parents, but with everything she had ended up being collateral damage, the one person Harry regretted leaving behind most.

I stood still, looking at Harry. His mood was hard to decipher; he was on edge, that was obvious, but his exterior reflected nothing, he was emotionless, distant. The mask was on, now more than ever.

"Harry."

Gemma's voice was barely above a whisper, but it seemed to hit Harry like a tsunami. For a second, his hard mask faded, but he quickly composed himself again.

It was a weird dynamic, the three of us standing outside of the shop and not saying anything. I felt like running, this wasn't my battle, and yet I couldn't help but to want to try and stand closer to Harry to tell him that I was there, that everything was going to be okay.

But Gemma was the first one to move, as she launched herself towards Harry, hugging him like her life depended on it. Harry stiffened and I knew he was clueless as to what to do, that his mind was going into dozens of directions and trying to understand what he was supposed to do.

"Oh, I missed you so much," she mumbled against his chest. Her eyes were closed as she tried to keep the tears in.

Harry's breaths were short, nervousness was taking over, but he still put a delicate hand on her back. His gesture was awkward; his hand, that was meant to be reassuring, was stiff against her back as his other arm hung loosely next to his body. Gemma didn't seem to mind, the fact that she was finally seeing her brother again after two years seemed to be enough.

As I looked at them, my heart broke a little. I knew this wasn't Gemma’s perfect scenario and I knew that Harry didn't expect to see her ever again.

Brother and sister that had been torn apart by outside sources. One that loved with all her heart and the other that didn't even know how to.

Gemma pulled away slightly, but kept one arm around Harry. Her free hand caressed Harry's face softly. He flinched and Gemma's hand fell on her side.  

"How are you?" She asked him with a trembling voice. Surely she had noticed the way Harry’s body had tense when she had touched his face.

"I'm fine," Harry mumbled, trying to stay polite, but he had an edge in his voice that betrayed him.

"We've been worrying about you," Gemma admitted. "Especially mom, she's been-"

Harry abruptly detached himself from his sister's embrace. "Don't call her that," he threatened.

"Harry," she whispered sadly. "She's still-"

He interrupted her again. "You know what, I don't care." He turned away from her and roughly grabbed my hand. "We're leaving."

I didn't have time to argue, he was dragging me quickly to his car.  

"Harry.” Gemma and I said his name at the same time.

Gemma's tone was pleading, hopeful; mine was empathic, aware.

She hoped that he would change his mind, that he would turn around and fix everything there was to fix. But I knew better. Harry's feelings were consuming him, he was drowning in them, and in the moment, no matter how many lifebuoy you would throw his way, he wouldn't take them. All you could do was to let him know that they were there, so that when he would be ready to be saved, he would know that there were ones near him.