Pirouette [h.s.]

chapter 32

// And you're my survival, you're my living proof.

My love is alive and not dead. //

"I'll Be" -Edwin McCain

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True to his word, the moment we got back home from the Sequoias, Harry started looking up apartments and houses in the city that we could move to. He insisted that, once he found a few good options he would show me, but nearly four weeks later and he hasn't spoken a word aside from midnight rambles about how he 'can't wait to come home to me,' followed by scattered kisses across my skin.

Diana and David were, to Harry's surprise and not at all my own, excited once we talked to them about it. Diana offered to help look for places immediately while David cracked jokes about his oldest son 'finally getting out of the house.' They both insisted that having me live with them while I've been recovering has made home feel even homier, which warmed my heart more than I'd admit.

I got cleared to get rid of my stupid crutches earlier this week and Diana excitedly suggested we go out shopping, now that walking was easier. The two of us spent all day with Nate jumping from store to store buying absolutely nothing but enjoying ourselves anyway. I realized, while we were out, that Harry's family was quickly becoming my own - that they became my own the moment they came to watch me dance. Maybe I made home feel homier, but they made a home exist.

Everyone's a little unsure of how Nate's going to react once we do move out, but Harry's done his best in trying to talk to his little brother about it. We'll just have to wait and see what happens - we'll cross that bridge once we get there.

"What are you thinking about, Bee?" Harry's cheek nuzzles closer into my neck. I can't make out his face in the darkness of the bedroom, but I can feel his content smile against my shoulder.

I roll my body a little to lay my own cheek on top of his curls. "Home." You.

"What about home?" He murmurs. I know he thinks I'm talking about Tacoma, or my old apartment, or here, in his parent's house. But...I'm not.

"Not that home."

Harry's face heats up against my skin and he ducks into me to hide, "Oh." Silence lingers between us for a couple seconds before he's sitting himself up against the headboard. "Can we talk about something, Phoebs?"

Eyebrows furrowed, I glance up at him. I can't read the look in his eyes, but it's nothing bad. Just...nervous, maybe? "Of course, what's goin' on?"

"You know when I told you I was going to your old apartment to put stuff in storage for you last weekend?"

The complex fixed the water damage and leakage issues, but staying with the Styles' was so embedded into my daily routine that I didn't put up much of a fight to go back. Harry had taken me back a few weeks ago to pick up a few things, but the bulk of my belongings were just staying locked up in my apartment. That is, until there was a robbery in the building and Harry convinced me that we should put everything in storage until he and I found a place to move into.

I nod, wriggling up to sit against his chest.

He smiles a fleeting little grin before starting to nervously fiddle with my hair in between his fingers. "Well...it didn't go to storage."

A chill washes through my veins. "Harry, what? Why didn't you tell me? I would've gone myself to do it this week."

The movement of my hair stops while a breathy laugh leaves his lips. "Okay...that wasn't the best way to start-"