Redemption [h.s]

fifty-four

I was staring at the ceiling. Breaking the silence, there were only the rhythmic sounds of the clock in the other room and Harry's slow breathing next to me. I turned towards him and I adjusted the blanket - that was clumped around his waist - so that it would rest on his shoulders, keeping him warm. At the touch, he snuggled his face into the pillow, not waking up. I brushed his hair out of his face, glancing at the subtle way the corners of his lips turned upwards. When he was asleep, he seemed way calmer. He wasn't tense when he was awake, but somehow I could always notice that there was something going on in his mind, and something told me that it wasn't anything good. But when he was asleep, it was completely different. It was as if the nervousness and wariness had been long forgotten, and he let himself be at peace.

I glanced outside, it was a white, and probably really cold, morning. I hid better under the covers, deciding to linger in the warmth for a while longer.

Seeing him like that, not torturing himself for once, was addicting. I wanted him to be okay. And I also wanted him to smile, fully smile, with his eyes crinkling up and his dimples showing. It had been so long since I had last seen him truly happy. How could've I not noticed it before? I praised myself to be the kind of person that understands people, but I had been too focused on what had happened in his past, to realise what had truly been going on in his life, in that moment. How could've I not noticed that he was falling apart, slowly slipping away from my grasp? Maybe it was my fault. Maybe, if I had noticed that he wasn't doing well before, we could've avoided what had happened. How could've I not seen that the man I loved, of whom the happiness meant the most to me, wasn't well? I just couldn't comprehend how something like that had gone unnoticed by me.

He sighed, and I watched the smile slowly disappear as he came to his senses. I turned to the other side, not really feeling like facing him so soon in the morning. But of course, my wish was left unattended.

"Grace? Are you sleeping?" He asked faintly, one of his hands brushing my back under the covers.

I turned around, pretending I had just woken up. "Hey" I whispered to him.

"Hello" he whispered back.

I took his hand, and started drawing circles on the back with my thumb. "I love you" I reminded him.

He slightly smiled at the three words. "I love you too."

I let the silence linger between us for a while longer before breaking it. "You do know that we need to talk about it, don't you?"

"Yeah" he said, "Can we just stay here for a while?"

"Of course we can. How are you today?" I replied. "You said you weren't feeling well yesterday" I specified after he gave me a weird look.

"A bit better, I think. Maybe I'll eat something later today."

"That's good" I said, "What about we take the covers and move to the couch?"

"I'd like that" he replied with a little smile.

I stood up and took the blanket out of the bed, leaving him uncovered.

"I need to use the bathroom, I'll be fast" he said standing up as well and heading to the bathroom door.

I went to the living room and put the blanket on the couch, before walking to the kitchen to make some tea for the both of us. After a while, he came back, and I handed him his cup and directed him to the couch, where we sat putting the blanket over us.

"Harry" I said, "we need to talk about it."

"I know" he said faintly, looking down at his lap.

"What happened?" I asked him, squeezing his forearm in reassurance.

"I just... It's hard to explain" he admitted.

"Just try."

"I... Sorry, I don't usually talk to people about this. I just... Didn't think I would've got there. I know I disappointed you-"

"You didn't" I said, but he stopped me.

"Let me say it all at once, because I'm not sure I'll be able to do it again." He crossed his legs under the blanket, looking at anything but me. "I'm disappointed in myself. I promised myself it would've not happened, but I let it take the best of me again. There are moments in which I'm feeling okay, I guess? More like what is the best for me. But there are others, in which it just... Hits me, and oppresses me so hard that it leaves me breathless. I just feel like... I don't know how to explain it. It freezes me, it doesn't let me do anything but think about it over and over again, until it's an endless mantra that seems like it will never end. I can't get my mind off it, it doesn't matter how hard I try. I just want to hide in my bed, and never get up. And the guilt is there, and it's so... I know Louis is right. It's my fault if she died. And it just seems so wrong that she isn't here anymore, but I am. It should've been the other way around." He paused for a second, breathing in deeply to keep his voice from breaking, but with no success. "When I'm happy, I have this voice in my head that screams at me that I don't deserve to be happy, because she can't be happy, if she isn't here anymore. Everything I do, I am reminded that she won't do, because she's dead." He winced as he used the strong word, "Sometimes... Sometimes it just gets too much. I feel like... I feel like it'll never end. And it... scares me, and I... feel like there's... only one way to make it stop." He paused and wiped tears away from his eyes, turning to the other direction, hoping that I hadn't noticed. I leant my head on his shoulder and hugged him tight. "I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have tried to do... that" he continued, "it had got so much. I didn't... I didn't think it through. I just wanted it to stop, and that's the only... way I know to make it happen. I know I disappointed you. I disappointed myself as well, and also Gemma. I disappointed everyone, I'm sorry."

"You didn't disappoint any of us, Harry. I can't understand how you're feeling, but I understand you. That doesn't make it right, though. What you tried to do, it's just not okay, and I know you know that. That's not the only way. It will never be the only way, do you understand?"

"It's been so long, I feel like it just... I don't know, became a part of me. As if it was just who I am. Maybe it is. I don't think I will ever stop feeling like that" he confessed.

"You can, and you will." I made sure he was looking at me, before continuing. "I promise you. You aren't alone."

"Yeah" he simply said.

I sat back against the cushion, and noticed the bottle on the shelf. "Harry, I need to ask you a question."

He glanced at me. "Yeah?"

"Have you taken your antidepressants regularly? I'm sorry if you don't want to talk about it, but it's important" I dared to ask.

"Did Gemma ask you to ask me this?" He fired back.

"She did" I replied, knowing that there was no point in hiding it.

"You know the answer."

"I don't think I do."

"No. I stopped taking them two weeks ago."

"Why?" I asked him.

"I don't know. I guess... I guess I thought I was feeling better" he admitted.

"And you will feel better, I promise you. I know you know you shouldn't have stopped taking them. We should drink the tea now, it's getting cold."