Hidden. (by seasidestyles-original copy)

fifty four

I wake up in the middle of the night, confused at the absence of Harry's arms around me.

I sit up abruptly, my eyes adjusting to the dark. "Harry?" I call softly.

"Hmm."

I follow his voice to the window, where he leans, staring out. Even in the dark room, I see his vibrant green eyes, and the purple ring surrounding one of them. I cock my head at him.

"What are you doing up?" I check the clock next to my bed. "It's one thirty am."

"Couldn't sleep."

I furrow my brow. "Why not?"

Ha looks down. "I, uh...I'm in a bit of pain."

I get out of bed, walking into the bathroom and sifting through my bottles of medicines. "Shit, Harry, why didn't you wake me?"

"I didn't want to disturb you. You looked so peaceful."

I return with ibuprofen and a new band aid, sitting beside Harry on the bed.

His lip has scabbed over a bit and so has his cut when I remove the band aid. His black eye, however, doesn't look any better.

"I hate seeing you hurt," I murmur as I replace the old Winnie the Pooh band aid with a new one.

Something changes in his eyes as I move my hands from his face.

He wraps his arms around me in a tight embrace, his head resting on my shoulder.

I respond quickly, unsure of why he's hugging me so out of the blue, but I don't protest.

"Thank you," he breaths in my ear, his rough voice sounding like a melody to my ears.

He pulls away without a word and takes the pill I hand him, swallowing it with some water.

"It should kick in soon," I tell him as he sets the water bottle on my night stand.

"What's on the new band aid?"

I squint at it in the dark. "Oh, my God." I put a hand over my mouth, stifling laughs.

"What?"

"It's, uh...Dora the Explorer."

"God damn it, Rose!"

We both laugh at my juvenile band aid selection before laying back in bed.

"I don't want to go to sleep yet,"Harry admits as we lay on our backs, staring at the ceiling.

"I guess I can stay awake until your medication kicks in," I sigh.

I hear Harry sigh.

"You know, Aaron maybe a little twat, but he can definitely hit hard."

I smile wanly. "I know."

It's silent for a few moments.

"Hey, want to play a game?"

"When have I ever wanted to play one of your games?"

"Come on. It's fun."

I roll my eyes. "Fine. What game?"

"Would you rather."

"Not this bullshit, please," I groan.

"Okay, so would you rather..." He furrows his brow in thought. "Be hunted by a trained assassin, or rot in jail?"

"Rot in jail," I answer.

"Why the hell would you want that?"

"Because if you were hunted by a trained assassin, you'd be living in suspense your whole life, waiting for the trained assassin to strike."