This Was Home [h.s.]

| 26. STITCHED EYES |

Brin's POV

"Harry, I'm nervous," I stated as I peeked over the corner to where he sat. He had his eyes fixated closely on the road ahead, sheets of rain beating harshly against the windshield.

My leg bounced tirelessly against the car's floor while I watched. The thumps of my feet mixed in with the beat of the music that was softly playing in the background, and I continued to gaze at him to see if he would end up saying anything.

I needed him to say something. Anything. I almost wished that he would just tell me worst case scenarios instead of staring blankly out at the road ahead. At least then I could know what to say myself.

"I know," he finally pitched in. His voice sounded sullen but with a matter-of-fact undertone to it.

"Are you not nervous?" I asked as I bit against a hang-nail. "Even just a little bit?"

He drew out a breath, hardly heard over the background noises. My legs had slowed down in speed as my attention was now occupied with my fingernails.

"I don't get nervous, Brin." A breathy laugh escaped out of his mouth as he said it—as if I should've known better than to assume that about him.

I pouted as my eyebrows creased together. He didn't seem like he was trying to be a total ass when he said it, but it was still hard not to take it at face value.

"That's bullshit," I snapped.

He crooked his head towards me, smirking slightly when he noticed my arms crossed to my chest. For a brief moment, he scanned his eyes over me and the confidence I had to snap at him in the first place disappeared like it was never there. He was focused back ahead again, but the look he gave me still lingered around us.

"Okay, fine," I huffed as I paused to adjust closer to my side of the window. In the back of my mind I wished that would guilt him into saying something else, but I realized quickly that that plan wasn't going to work with him. So, instead, I continued.

"Can you just tell me it'll be okay, whatever happens? Even if it's bad? Like if she's not there?"

I peeked an eye out through my peripherals in attempt to gauge his body language when I asked it. It was something that I had started to realize about him—that his body language was much more trustworthy than the things he said. He had a front about him that I was slowly starting to understand, and maybe at some point I would be able to chip away at it, too. But, now wasn't the time to start. I knew it wouldn't get me anywhere besides disappointed and with potentially hurt feelings in the process.

"Stop talking like that. Of course we'll be fine and we'll find her."

He said it more like a demand, like there was no other option besides what he said. While I wanted to believe it, it was hard. I had been filled with so much disappointment recently that it was proving difficult to keep the hope that I once had so strong. I refused to completely give up because I knew that Alayna would do whatever she could if the roles were reversed, too. I had to keep reminding myself of that.