Ninety Six

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I woke today in my own bed for the first time in a while, almost disoriented from my surrounds because I'm so used to being in Harry's room. I kept waking up in the middle of the night from sleep deprivation- even though I was so tired.

Harry and I have barely spoken since he bandaid my finger. We have mainly just done our own thing. The apartment is nothing but a cold drift of air now from our distance.

To distract myself all day, I've been cleaning up my room. I haven't really been in here in a while so I thought that maybe if I clean it up and make it more of a warmer atmosphere, I'll enjoy it better. I've been hearing Harry up early like usual, doing his own thing. I know that his recovery is fine because he's working a lot and doing everything he normally does. I still am going to stay here though because you never know what could happen with him and plus I don't want to nuisance Erica by crashing on her couch.

Being here with him is hard, harder then I thought I would be. I'm so conflicted with my emotions and I need time to just think about everything. But then I see him walking down the hall and it just makes me sad. I want to lay in his arms and joke around with him in the kitchen like we used to. I want to wear his shirt again and play with a hair while he sleeps.

But I can't forget about what he did.

I see him everyday, but yet I miss him so much. I need to distract myself as much as possible.

I walk out of my room and of course he happens to be coming out of his room also. We both freeze and look at eachother, not knowing what to say. I haven't talked to him all day and it's nearly evening now.

He stands tall in his doorway, wearing a pair of black adidas pants that hang low on his hips. He darts his emerald eyes to mine and just stands there, as lost as me. His shirt was absent from his inked skin and immediately I notice the vertical cut in the center of his chest. It's healed nicely but I know it will scar.

"Your chest." I mumble while looking at the place the doctors cut open over his heart.

He looks down and nods lightly; "Oh, yeah.. it's really ugly." He mumbles while looking back up to me.

"No it's not ugly, just think of it as a tattoo." I almost whisper. He chuckles softly and nods.

"Yeah I guess." He says lightly.

Theirs a moment of silence where we just stand there, not knowing what to say. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly before speaking once again.

"I was just going to make dinner, what would you like?" He breaks the tension.

"Oh, um it's okay just make what you want.. I'll eat something later." I kindly reject while tucking my hair back in my ear.

"Amelia don't be silly, I'm making something for the both of us." He insists while starting to walk down the hallway, past me so I feel his air hit me and a light smell of his cologne.

I heard him step down the stairs and far away from me. As he vanished from what I'm guessing is the kitchen, I hear a knock on the front door from down the first floor?

Someone knocking on the door? Who could that possibly be?

I walk towards the railing of the second floor and see Harry submerge from the kitchen, walking towards the door. As he gets there, he opens it up and it reveals none other then Erica standing there in a pair of black leather pants and a see though black mesh long sleeve so you can see her black bra.

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