Home (H.S)

drawing the lines

"All I want to do is get high by the beach, get high by the beach, get high."

Eleanor's POV

I have to admit that sleeping on the couch wasn't as comfortable as I had pictured. But I am trying to be a good sport to Harry after what he did for me today. I feel bad because the poor guy swam to me so fast that he was totally exhausted. Thinking I was trying to drown myself.

I'm not going to lie and pretend I wasn't being over dramatic. It just happens sometimes - my emotions bottle up and get to the point where I don't make sense anymore. I tend to push people away because I cry so hard that I can't even speak. But once it's out of my system I just let it go.

Like when Harry said what he said in the airplane!?! It hurt at the time but I pushed it back within me and tried to ignore it. But when we were sitting on the beach together, and he was being so attentive, I couldn't help it. He was usually a dick or smartass, so I wasn't used to him actually paying interest. The way he looked at me, paying special attention, as I talked.

It made me feel like someone was actually listening to what I have to say. I love my parents; I really do. But this past year with the whole wedding going on it was like all I needed to do was nod and smile. Nobody really cared or asked me if I was really fine or if I was really okay. I was going to go along with it all anyway but if someone would have really sat down to talk about it.

I didn't want attention but if just once someone had asked me about my feelings, I would have been so grateful. I sort of wish that Harry and I were able to spend more time together before the wedding.

Sure, we interact but it's hard to talk to him. It's not like he offers to strike up a conversation with me either. This week I am going to try really hard though. I am going to try really hard with Harry. I have to get to know him better than just his name or favorite things. I have to learn how to read his emotions and expressions. Because when you're married the other should be able to pick up your mood. At least that's what I was taught.

My parents are living proof. Sometimes they don’t even speak out loud. They have this intense gaze thing going on at times but that is simply how they talked to each other. Maybe it's just me and the fact that I am a hopeless romantic. But I want something that my parents have. Who wouldn't? Isn't that what everyone looks for in their lifetime, for someone to love and to be loved?

My thoughts are interrupted when a loud agonizing scream break through the air. I literally jump out of the comfortable burrito I had wrapped myself into. The screaming continues and it is coming from the room.

Is Harry okay? I get myself up from the floor to head over and see what was wrong. I make my way into the room to find a thrashing Harry covered in sweat. What am I supposed to do in a situation like this? Was he having a nightmare or something?

I opt for waking him up because I can’t simply keep on listening to the screams. I get on the bed maneuvering my way towards him, stretching an arm to shake him harshly at the shoulders.

"Harry, wake up!" I say loudly, continuing to shake him. That makes him stop yelling as alertness begins to take him in. His green irises aree wide open before dilating to a normal size. The way he looks me over with possibly no recognition saddens me.

"Hey, you're alright, okay, it's me. Eleanor. You were having a bad dream but you're fine, okay? I'm here," I say as reassuring as I can to me with a small smile.