quondam √ h.s.

remember your apology?

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i came back the next week to find the apartment was a mess, similar to you when your tall figure walked through the front door. your hair was disheveled and your eyes had dark circles surrounding them. you looked worse than me.

"you came back," you sighed and took long strides to me. you embraced me in a tight hug while i tried to ignore the burning of my skin with my arms at my sides. you apologized for the mess and gave a sheepish smile before picking up things scattered on the floor.

i smelled the cologne i bought you, not different perfumes. i told you that we could talk later, but i was going to have dinner with my father. you looked surprised and stuttered out acknowledgment. did you understand that i had to mend any burned bridges?

my father hated that i went back. he thought it was foolish, and he was right. why would i go back to someone that didn't treasure me? i picked up the scraps of my relationship with my father while ours crumbled in my hands.

i wasn't eager to go home and see you yet. i knew you would just kiss it better and i'd fall into your ocean once more. "i-i cleaned." you told me when i walked into the spotless apartment. i was impressed that you were able to do the task in the time i was gone. i had brought you home food, in case you hadn't eaten.

harry, i was hurt, but i still cared. we sat on the couch and i waited for you to gather your thoughts. the typical "it won't happen again. a huge mistake. it meant nothing." came out of your mouth and i was unamused. you could see it.

"baby, i'm so sorry. i'm the biggest dickhead to ever do that to you. you deserve so much better, but please. i love you, i'm so, so sorry, baby," you said with your hands holding mine.

do you remember the first time you said you loved me, harry? i almost missed those three little words slipping through your petal soft lips.

do you remember how those words only came out when you were begging me to stay? how they were muddled into your apology? but it's okay because i waited so long to hear you say it.

i forgave you. how could i not? should i have suffered with the bitterness of holding the grudge against you? besides, you loved me and you kissed it better.

you came home a lot earlier than you usually would after that. it seemed as though you grew more affectionate and attached after you spoke those words. did it feel any different to have them escape your mouth, or were you just trying not to lose me?

i walked into the bedroom and saw your wallet on the floor. when i picked it up i noticed you had a photo of me in it. harry, i was in your pocket with you when you slid your pants off to be with another?

do you remember the first time you said you loved me, harry? i deserved the words in its own conversation, but i waited so long to hear you say it that i didn't care. do you think it was fair for you to use that as bait for more torment?