Diligence [H.S.]

EIGHTEEN

Chapter Song: 929 by Halsey

...

ANDREA WILSON

A soft but loud enough knock makes me slightly jolt awake in bed.

"Andrea, you up?" Nate's voice echoes.

The arms around me shift at the sound. Shit.

I glance down at the solid and comforting arms wrapped around me. The familiar hold of being in Harry's arms makes me feel...unsettled. I'm comfortable and safe, but I know it's temporary.

The reality of our situation, where I've put us, doesn't end with me deserving him.

My right hand is intertwined with his and curled into my torso—the heat radiating off his bare chest sears through my thin shirt. I brush my thumb across the top of his palm for a brief moment, cherishing the nostalgic warmth it brings me before I untangle my fingers from his limp ones.

Moving slowly and cautiously, I slide away from Harry's body. I gently place his arm, previously draped over me, back onto the mattress. He stirs a little but nestles further into my pillow a few seconds later.

I'm not sure how we ended up in that position, considering we only held hands when I fell asleep—a moment of weakness I couldn't help but give into. The same goes for kissing him in the pool. In which he quite literally took my fucking breath away as he kissed me with every fiber and ounce of emotion he had.

It was the first time I had felt something in months.

Emotionally and physically. Maybe that's because I had only smoked less than half a joint, and my system was clean of my usual numbing agent. Either way, it scared the shit out of me.

I knew I missed him. Even if I would never admit it out loud, I did. No matter how hard I tried to deny it, deep down, I missed him. How could I not? But then the photos of him and Talia came out. Any longing that I allowed to the surface was then forced away and hidden.

Until last night. It was stupid. Unbelievably fucking stupid of me, but I remembered why my sobriety was at its strongest when I was with him.

He alone didn't keep me sober. I kept myself sober at the end of the day, but there were people and other factors that lightened the heaviness of my addiction. It alleviated some of the aching pressure pressing down against my shoulders every day.

Harry alleviated it the most. I didn't realize it until I pushed him away with the bit of strength I had left.

The blackout curtains make the room almost entirely dark. Considering I originally asked Nate to come over at eleven, I'm guessing we slept in. No alarms or sunlight probably helped that happen. Nothing else.

I quietly open the door, just enough to peek my head out. I use my body to block him from seeing in, but he towers over me.

He looks at me while I squint at the bright sunlight shining through the rest of the house.

"Fuck, I forgot to set my alarm," I tell him with a quiet voice. He looks at me curiously while I try to rub the exhaustion away from my eyes, "I'm sorry. I'll get ready really quick, and we can go."

He peers over me, and his eyes widen, "Andrea, did you guys—"

"Sleep? Yes. I'll meet you downstairs," I snap at him before shutting the door a bit too loudly.

Harry flinches, startled by the sudden noise. He sits up and glances over at me, and I wince when I see his concerned expression. His hair is pointing in all different directions, and even in the dark room, I can see his eyes haven't even opened fully yet.