Cleo Horan
I couldn't sleep but maybe it was because I ended up taking a six-hour-long nap after our brunch today.
Well, Harry's idea of trying to cook was cute but a disaster. His logic was that breakfast would be easier to prepare than lunch, but he would suck either way.
I made us some eggs and pancakes and he ate much more than I expected, he wasn't lying when he said he was hungry.
We ate in silence and Harry seemed very damn nervous today, but I assumed it was because of Anne and these random memories that were resurfacing in his mind ever since his panic attack.
I was quite surprised when he actually told me about it and tried to explain it to me, and the only logical explanation was that he was locked in some dark room when he was little... maybe this Gemma was an imaginary friend or something he created to feel safer. He told me Anne liked Fleetwood Mac, so the whistling was probably his way of feeling safer without even knowing.
It made sense to me, Desmond was an abusive piece of shit and I wouldn't be surprised if he actually punished Harry like this. It would explain his fear of the dark... but his trauma honestly seemed much more serious and deeper.
I was scared for him, especially after we talked about his plan of wanting to be in the dark to see if he could remember anything else. He was convinced the answers were inside his mind, and even if they were it didn't mean he should do this.
My own mind was one of my biggest fears... we never know who we truly are or what we're capable of. And we're never ready to find out.
I used to try to hold my father's gun back when my fear was in control of me, and every single time was awful. And Harry's phobia was worse than mine, I was very scared of this idea.
Of course I'd be with him if he really decided to go through it, but I doubted my presence would be enough to keep his emotions in check.
Harry couldn't control himself when he was afraid and this wouldn't be a simple episode.
Fuck, we didn't talk too much about this because we went to the living room and I ended up sleeping because I was just so fucking exhausted. My body begged for a break and after spending last night awake, I needed some rest.
But so did Harry, and I had a feeling he lied when he told me he also had taken a nap.
We showered and ordered some pizza, and now we were back in his bedroom. Just lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling.
We basically did nothing today, but what we talked about added to all the shit we had to process from yesterday, made it seem like I had run a damn marathon. Thinking was very fucking tiring, and feeling worried didn't help.
I honestly had no idea what to do next.
"I wish I could read your mind," Harry whispered all of a sudden, making me snap out of my thoughts.
I glanced sideways at him and he was already lying on his side, facing me.
The shadows made his eyes seem a darker shade of green and the only light was coming from the lamp on his side of the bed.
"My mind is a scary place." I smiled at him. "A bit toxic and off the rails."
"Sounds like my cup of tea." He smiled back, and it actually reached his eyes.
I admired him so much for being this strong, I wasn't sure if he knew how much he had grown.
"I thought you didn't like tea." I teased him, turning on my side as well, so now we were facing each other.
