earned it [h.s.]

42.

Genevieve.

Harry and I were finishing up our burgers in the little restaurant by the highway in a comfortable silence. Soon enough, he'd have to drive me back and I had to get ready to work a shift at Lotus. A decision I was very much doubting right now because I wanted nothing more than for Harry to spend the night with me.

Waking up with him was so... fun. When his alarm went off back at Blair's house, I was so disoriented and I definitely did not want him to leave. For a moment, I didn't even really care if Blair caught us, I just wanted to stay cuddled up to him and forget about all else.

Forget about how he made me feel before that, forget about the argument we had, forget about the words he said. There were definitely things for us to talk about. I wasn't great at talking, I sucked at confrontation. Mostly because talking meant arguing, and arguing made me feel small so I gave in really quick, apologized and hoped for the best.

I had a feeling that Harry and I could communicate well if we tried, so I hoped that those talks would actually be productive and not send me in a negative spiral of self-destruction and self-blame.

I felt his hand gently tracing shapes around my own and I glanced at the soft interaction, smiling as I popped the final fry in my mouth.

We had just discussed going on a little trip next weekend, and I had to admit I was very excited, albeit a little scared. Harry and I had never spent that much time together in a row, just the two of us. Blair was with us most of the time to act like a disruption, but also a little bit like a buffer. What if on the trip, Harry realized we had nothing in common? What if he realized he didn't like me after all? Who I was when I was with him?

I tried to shove my anxiety away, but Harry caught on, his fingertips drumming on the inside of my wrist where he seemingly could feel my accelerated pulse.

"Everything okay, sunny?" He asked. I flicked my eyes up to him and shot him a nervous smile, "Yeah. I think so. Just... lots of changes coming up, I guess. A little scary."

Harry gently squeezed my fingers, a look of sympathy on his face. He knew he was the cause for these changes and for our current situation. I couldn't exactly blame him for the position we were in, but I could still blame him for how he handled the entire thing. Lying to me was one thing, not coming clean about it until I showed up at his door, was another. I glanced down his hand to see the absence of his wedding ring again, making my heart clench a little. He truly did just wear it when he was with her.

Our future together still just felt like a fever dream and I knew things were bound to fuck it up. The healthiest thing to do would be for me to step back, but I just couldn't. Maybe that made me a naïve hopeless romantic, which would only hurt me more in the end. But I had a feeling Harry was worth the inevitable heartbreak I'd eventually have to survive. I decided for myself that it was worth it to lose myself in him, to suffer.

After all, the suffering was what I deserved most. Only a tiny portion of me believed that good things could come from this, but I held onto it for dear life and I had a feeling Harry did the same.

He was trying to make it up to me, that much was clear. He was trying to show his feelings, to show how much I meant to him, how much he liked me – or loved me as he said it. For some reason, the words just didn't completely sit right with me. I couldn't say it back. It felt like poor timing, knowing I had just slept with his wife, we were both half drunk and had just had a fight, and we were asleep in the house he shared with Blair, hiding from her.

It was one of the things I wanted to talk about on the trip.

I supposed Harry could sense the vibes between us were just a little bit... off. But a lot of things were up in the air, things we couldn't ignore, things we needed to face.