Recovery || Sequel to Denial ||

8.

"I've tried to break myself of her over and over, but it's pointless. I've got more of her in my veins than blood."

I felt it again. The pressure my heart was put under at this exact moment, my soul could leave my body and I'd be content.
I took for granted the many and several times I was under his wing. The nights where he'd just hold me in complete and udder silence and even in pointless conversation.
He smelt the same though, he hugged me the same way. He embraced my body a bit more, but I assume it's because we've been apart for so long. He's just the same Harry, and although I might've been a stranger to him at one point, I felt that our souls are drawn to one another-whether or not it's in a romantic way or just a lifetime friendship.

"Hi" I finally whispered, still embracing him. My eyes closed as I snuggled my head in the crook of his chest, his heart beat at an all time high.

He hums, his hand raking through my hair as I felt his chin placed on the top of my head.

The next thing I know, his emerald crystals are boring into my dull ones. His hands grabbing ahold of my forearms, as words spill out of his mouth but I'm lost as I just scan the beauty of his completion.

"Scar" He chuckles, "Are you listening?"

"Forsure" I frown in a sarcastic way as a light giggle escapes my lips.

"Then what did I say?" His thick accent shocking me as it always does.

"Would you like some tea?" I cough uncomfortably, his eyes scanning my body movements.

"Angel, are you alright? Has anyone approached you?"

Frowning, his sudden burst of worry surprises me; but that's why he's here, to worry.

"Im fine Harold. The text was the only thing out of the ordinary. This all might just be me exaggerating honestly"

I flimsily look around for nice China cups I didn't have. Anything to distract me from any unwanted thoughts scattering around in my mind.

I hear him sigh as the sound of the bar stool near the kitchen creaks, announcing that he's now sitting with a  full view of me looking stupid.

"I wouldn't be here if you were just exaggerating, I know Alexander and the extents he'd go to with or without Greyson"
He finally breaks the silence as I just conform with a mug that says "Daddy's little princess"
I pour in the tea, and trying my best to turn the scripture around so he wouldn't see it right away. Just seeing him drink out of that cup seems somewhat hilarious to me.

As I set the tea down, he finishes the sentence with their names and I swear all the hair on my body goes on end. My spine starts to ache as I cringe at those names, I've spent this whole time trying to forget and avoid them, the memories.

"I-I can't talk about this right now" I murmur, not trying to make any effort to look into his eyes. Although, I know he's furrowing his brows and bunching up his hands into fists. He tends to do that when he's nervous, angry, upset, confused, etc.

"Scarlett, we have too. I'm here to- I'm here to protect you. I need to know what's going on with you, you need to talk to me" The chair makes a loud screech as he stomps his Saint Laurent black ankle boots.

I slump into the couch as I groan, rubbing my eyes vigorously in distress. I want him here, I just don't want the situation to be discussed. I don't want to stress, taking time off work just for this is enough.
Being as that I just started this job, it was embarrassing to already ask for a two month absence. And nonetheless letting myself down, and slowing down the life set up I had for myself when I moved to New York.
This is what they want, what he wants; and I know that.
But the sooner we deal with the problem, the sooner it'll be over and done with. For good.

"Do whatever you feel suits the situation Harold. Like you said, you know them, don't you" I sarcastically remark, shoving away as he tries to sit near me.

"Don't start-" He groans, raking his brown locks out of his face as his brows furrow once again at my lack of communication. I was an open book to him before, and now that I've learned to really store away my feelings is when I tend to feel the worst.

"What? That I've been tugged into this? You want me to be alright and jolly? I don't want this, I didn't want this. I wanted you, that's it" I murmured, shoving my face into the white furry pillow sitting as decor on the couch.

"This isn't what I wanted either yeah? If anything, I wish nothing more but for this to disappear from your life. For all the pain and suffering to be put on me instead of you. I'd kill, to see you smile again"

I snort at the last remark. Not in a snobby way, I just find it interestingly cheesy. Something I'd hear in a telenovela or something.

"Okay, not actually kill kill someone because then I'd be a murderer. But you get the point" He chuckles, throwing another decor pillow at me. 

"Your somethin' else Styles" I giggle, shaking my head as the TV starts to play the opening credits for The Breakfast Club.

"How are you?" He suddenly asks, diverting my gaze from one of my favorite movies. It's been a while since someone has actually asked me that question, and seemed to genuinely want a honest answer.

"Good. Excellent. Great. Amazing. Magnificent" I say, smiling over at him, waiting for a reaction. But he just, raises the brow.

"Stressed. That's it. I'm just tired of being stressed out about everything. I'm a new person and although there are healthy choices coming along with that, I can't seem to leave the old me behind. I didn't like who I was, if anything I'd wish for the old me to just disappear into thin air. As if it never existed"

There's a long silence, as if he's trying to process what I'm saying and every agreeing to what I'm saying. Then suddenly, his voice erupts my thoughts with something I didn't know I longed to hear.

"That's the you I fell in love with, and that's the one thing that'll never change"

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