Redemption [h.s]

sixty-seven

Grace

When I knocked on his front door the day after, I couldn't deny I was a bit scared of the conversation that would've come out of it. Gemma came to open, following the usual and familiar pattern we both knew, before giving me a little smile, that proved me that she probably knew what had happened and wasn't mad at me for the past night, and went away, leaving the door open behind herself for me to walk in, even though I still had her set of keys.

I walked in, the once again overpowering silence of the house stopping me from calling Harry, and chose instead to take a look around to find out where he was, since that he wasn't in the kitchen and living room. I took notice of the report, that was still on the dining table, in the same position I had left it, realising that they probably hadn't had dinner and breakfast at all, since they would've surely moved it away if they had. I made my way down the hallway, and saw that the bathroom door was wide open, proving me that nobody was in there as well. I ignored the room on the right and went straight for the one on the left, noticing that the door was half closed. I knocked slightly on it, and it moved under my touch, silently opening.

The first thing I noticed was the bed in the middle of the room, the covers messily strewn over the mattress, but nobody under them. Glancing around the room, my eyes met the familiar green of Harry's. He was sitting on the small desk in front of the window, his back leaning against the glass surface, his legs crossed and his forearms over his stomach in a relaxed way. Differently from the calm position, his jawline was tense and his hair disheveled as it always was when he passed his fingers through it too many times, the dark circles under his eyes proving that he hadn't had a good sleep - if he had even gone to bed at all, and showing that his was just an apparent relaxation.

"Hello" I whispered, knowing that in the silence the words would've got to him anyway.

He looked down as soon as the sound left my mouth and hesitated a bit before replying. "Hi."

"Come in the living room?" I said questioningly, and he slid down the table, walking through the door of his room and leaving me to follow him. "Have you had breakfast?" I asked him, and he shook his head.

"Not hungry."

"Do you want at least something to drink?" I asked him, slightly worried that he had stopped eating again, just like a month before.

He sat on the couch, leaning against the armrest and facing me, his knees up to his chest.

I glanced at him, he looked as if he was hanging by a thread. As if he genuinely expected me to put an end to our relationship with a single word at any second. He was scared, but tried his best not to show it, hiding it behind a seemingly impassible face, and it worried me, because I recognised it. He could've easily flipped out or broke down at the smallest sentence.

The tension in the room seemed to be growing by the second when I finally spoke up. "We need to talk about what happened."

"I'm so sorry-" he started to say, but I stopped him before he could really apologise.

"That's not what I want to talk about" I said, and he gave me a confused glance. "Listen, I didn't like what you said yesterday at all, but I know you didn't mean it. People say a lot of regrettable stuff when they freak out, trust me, I know. This is why I'm saying there's no point in talking about that, we both know you didn't mean to."

The frown didn't leave his face, but he didn't say anything, letting me continue.

"This doesn't mean we don't have anything to talk about though. I think there's an issue that needs to be addressed."