A Crazy Thing Called Love (Harry Sytles Fanfic.)

28

"Did you just say we?"

Carmen

How am I supposed to explain this? I thought my mother was dead, apparently not. Or maybe, she's dead to me so I figured I would just tell you she was actually dead. Or maybe I could just say that I forgot she didn't die. But Harry isn't stupid, and by the look on his face right now I know that he's going to require some sort of explanation.

"I'm sorry," I whimper finally. I didn't mean to lie to him, I really didn't. It just came out because I wasn't really sure what else to say.

"What?" He puts his arms around my shoulders and pulls me against him. "Baby, I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?" I feel him shake his head a little and my body relaxes. "But I lied."

"You did. Why?"

Why. Why is a complicated question in most situations, but in this one it's as complicated as why does the universe exist. There are so many things wrong with my mother, and so many things I have never ever talked about, not even with my father. It hurts both of us too much and I just can't handle it. I want to say that I'm strong enough, but I'm just not and it sucks.

"Come on." I take his hand and pull him to my bedroom, turning all the lights off along the way. When I pull the blankets back on my bed and sit on the far side, I realize Harry is in his nice clothes still, and the only way he's getting out of them is if he's almost naked. He stands there for a moment, just waiting. He's nervous. I stand on my knees, crawling over to him and tugging him to the edge of the bed, pushing his jacket from his shoulders so it falls to the floor and unbuckling his belt and jeans.

"I can sleep in them," he mutters. He clears his throat and it makes me smile that he's so nervous. "If you want. I don't mind."

"You can't sleep in jeans," I respond simply. He puts his hands on mine and for an instant I'm scared he's going to reject me and leave, but he pulls off his t-shirt instead and then pulls his jeans from his legs. This is the first time- other than when we slept together- that I've seen him this bare, and it makes my heart race and my legs feel like jello. When I lay down I remove the boxers I had on, Harry flicking off my light and pulling the cold blankets over both our bodies. Honestly, I don't want to be wearing this sweater right now, but it's freezing and it's necessary.

Harry lays on his side next to me, and I decide to do the same so we're facing each other. He shuffles a little closer and it makes me smile.

"So she's alive," he says quietly. I can't help but laugh a little; the way he says it makes it sound like some sort of miracle.

"Yeah."

"Why'd you tell me she wasn't?"

"It was much simpler than the truth." I take a deep breath and his hand finds mine under the duvet. "She's not in my life. Not at all."

"Why?"

"Because she didn't want to be," I admit, looking away down at the covers. "My Dad being gone so much was too hard for her. She couldn't handle it or being my mother so she left. She dropped me at my grandmother's house and took off and we never heard from her after that."

"Shit," he mutters. He moves closer again so our bodies are pressed together, his arm around my waist. My leg automatically hooks around his and I'm grateful for the comfort and for the extra body heat.

"I never heard from her," I continue. "Not even at Christmas or my birthday. She just disappeared. I don't remember her much anymore, I was only five when she left, but I remember some things."