Only You {h.s}

Chapter Twenty Five

"She knows about us, Harry," I say solemnly, nervous for his reaction.

"I know," he laughs lightly.

I furrow my eyebrows and shift to look at him in the driver's seat.

"What do you mean you know?"

"She texted me about 20 minutes after she left, telling me that I better treat you right," he chuckles.

I put my face in my hands and groan.

"Don't you find it a little strange that your mother doesn't have a problem with us?"

"Not really," Harry shrugs. "She's always been pretty open minded. I used to make her paint my nails until I was like ten."

"We can always revisit that if you want," I giggle.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he teases.

"Mhm. I think you'd look very pretty."

"Not as pretty as you," he sing-songs.

I nudge him playfully and turn away to hide the pink tint in my cheeks. Even when Harry's being ridiculous he makes me blush.

"Anne really is great," I smile.

"I told you she'd love you."

I sigh and cast my gaze down to my lap. Most of the time my relationship with my parents doesn't bother me. Most of the time.

"What's wrong?" he questions.

"You're just really lucky to have her," I say quietly.

Harry takes my hand in his and gently presses his lips to my knuckles.

"You have her too. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, but..." I trail off.

"It isn't the same," he says understandingly.

I nod my head. I look forward to the meadow in front of us. The tree house is in the distance, only slightly illuminated by the light of the moon.

Louis left shortly after Anne did, presumably to be with his girlfriend. I've decided not to tell him I know about her. He'll talk about it when he wants. Besides, I can't afford to be calling the kettle black here.

Harry and I went for a drive and ended up at the place he took me the night of our first date. We sit in the car with the heat cranked up. The fireflies still dance as they did before; I cannot hear the crickets but I know they're there, continuously filling the void with sound.

The light of the moon casts a shadow on Harry's face. His green eyes are caught in it, only making them shine brighter. The dark glow covers his mouth and jaw, cloaking the irresistible pink of his lips.

"Will you tell me?" he rasps.

"Tell you what?"

"About what happened with your parents?"

"I don't know," I say in one long breath. "There are some parts of the story I'd rather leave in the past."

"I know you don't like talking about that stuff, but it's just that sometimes I feel like I know nothing about you." He pauses for a second and sighs. "Can you at least tell me something, anything?"

My heart hurts with guilt. I want nothing more than for him to know me, down to my last detail. I want the same from him. I just can't tell him certain things. I feel like I'm going to vomit just from thinking about them.

Harry's giving me this look. One that could melt down all my barriers if I let him stare too long. I need to say something before I say everything.