Redemption [h.s]

seven

I slowly opened my door as I heard a lot of banging outside. Outside, a brown haired guy was banging loudly on Harry's door. Louis.

"Come out Harry! It's time to face your fucking responsibilities!" He shouted, and threw a kick on the poor door.

Harry didn't open. I knew he was inside because we had come in at the same time, but no sound was coming out of the apartment, as if he was never there.

"What the fuck Harry come the fuck out!" Louis shouted again. He had a kind of high pitched voice, he was being so loud, and it was starting to get on my nerves.

I opened my door more.

"Finally I found you, I ain't letting you run away!" Louis kept up, and I decided to speak up.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Silence filled the hallway all of sudden. He stopped and turned around at the sound of my voice.

"Oh, pretty girl again! Stay out of this. It's between me and him."

I stepped out of my door. "I don't know what problem you have, or how you got in here, but you have to stop now, before I call the police."

He laughed ironically at me. "What, does Harry have a soft spot in your little heart?" He walked to me. "He's not who you think he is."

"I wonder how would you even know who I think he is, to say that."

He smirked at me. "Do you think I don't know? Ha!" He circled around me slowly. "You think he's a goodie, a nice teacher, with nothing in his mind but never ending care for his students..."

I laughed at him. "You're so wrong. You must leave."

"I'm not done with him. He hid away for too long" he told me.

I walked to my door, and turned around towards him again. "He's not here" I lied.

"Are you sure about it?" He asked, suddenly interested.

"I live basically next to him, I think I'd know it if I heard him getting in!" I snapped at him.

Louis nodded. "I guess that makes sense."

I walked into my house, and poking my head out to look at him. "Whatever you want, just leave him alone. Please."

He rolled his eyes. "Let me tell you a little story, princess."

I tried to interrupt him to tell him to not call me that, but he held up a hand.

"Let's say that somebody has done something really bad. Unforgivable. Are they still a good person?"

I frowned. "Maybe they didn't mean to."

"But what if what they did was just so... terrible, something so terrible that I won't even dare to tell?" He asked again.

"It depends. Making mistakes is part of being human" I fired back.

"But princess, from some mistakes... You just can't come back" he told me.

"I think that forgiveness is in the heart of the beholder" I replied, crossing my arms.

He shook his head. "You're too stubborn. I'll leave. I'll be back, though. And you, be careful. He's not someone you want to be close with."

"The next time you come in here, I will call the police" I told him.

He rolled his eyes, and walked down the stairs.

I stayed there, making sure he would've gone away. I looked out of the hallway window, and saw as he walked out of the gate and crossed the street, without looking back.
I left my door open and went to knock on Harry's door.

"Harry? Open please, I'm Grace."

I got no reply.

"Harry, please. He's not here." I left my hand on his door, as if I could somehow comfort him. As I was about to go away, the door opened.

Harry looked through the little opening the chain on the door permitted, to make sure it really was as I had said. Then he closed it, took away the chain, and opened it again.
He looked shaken.

"Want to do something?" I asked him hoping to get the chance to distract him, after looking at him silently for a few seconds.

He shook his head, closing his eyes for a second. "Sorry, I'd prefer not to. It's just a bad day. I'm sorry."

"What does he want from you?" I asked him again, my curiosity hitting hard.

"He's right. Everything he said. I did something really bad" he replied, looking down, before closing the door gently.

After that, I didn't see him for days.

•  •  •

It had been about a week when I heard footsteps in the hallway. I knew who they belonged to. I opened my door, and watched him as he unlocked his. The keys fell out of his hands, and he bent down to pick them up.

"Harry" I called him softly, a simple whisper lingering in the silence of the corridor.

He stood up slowly and he looked at me with those striking, deep green eyes of his. He looked somewhat paler, and a lot tenser.

"Can I take you out for dinner?" I asked him, taking in his appearance.

"Uh, I'm a bit tired today" he declined politely.

But I refused to give up. "We could stay in and order takeaway."

He nodded. "Okay, then. I'll be over whenever you'll have me." He opened his door and got in.

An hour later he was at my door. Even though he still looked like he had had the worst week ever and he seemed really off, he had managed to look more like himself.

We were sitting on the couch eating takeaway when I decided to address his weird behaviour.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, slightly nudging at his side to get his attention, that was focused on the TV.

"Nothing, I'm good" he replied, still concentrated on whatever was on the screen.

"You know that you can talk to me, don't you? I mean, we don't really know each other, but I'm here for you."

He finally looked at me. "I said, everything is good." His voice seemed somewhat stern, even though it felt like he had tried to pull it off as way gentler.

"Okay" I replied, and went back to the movie. "Gonna get some drinks" I said after a while, noticing the empty bottle  - and the empty glasses - in front of us. "Want a beer or something? I swear, Niall always stocks up the fridge whenever he comes here" I asked him standing up.

He looked up at me. "I don't drink alcohol."

"Gonna get you some water, then" I said, walking to the kitchen.

I looked at him while I was opening the fridge. As soon as I had got out of the room, he had stopped looking at the TV and had leaned back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling.

I closed the fridge hard enough to make a loud noise, and said out loud: "Here they come", to let him know I was about to come back.

He sat up straight again, and his gaze fell on the TV again, as if it had never moved from there.

I went back into the living room and set two water bottles on the little table in front of the couch. I poured some water into a glass while looking at him. He was still staring at the screen, not noticing me. He seemed to be in his own world. I put my hand on his arm, and he winced, his eyes falling on my hand, that was still touching him.

"It's okay" I told him, starting to trace with my finger the little cross tattoo he had on his hand in what I hoped was a calming way. Something was clearly really wrong, it was obvious, considering the way he was acting.

He sighed, and leaned back on the couch, finally giving in.

•  •  •

The next morning, I woke up to a silent living room and a little note on the kitchen table, written in a somewhat messy, extremely familiar handwriting, that said "Thank you."