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Chapter 45.

"My baby's misunderstood
How could something so bad look so damn good
Yeah he's still my baby
Yeah he's fuckin' crazy but he's still my baby"

(There couldn't be a more perfect song for Abby when it comes to Harry than this one)

***

I stay curled in Harrys lap, for what feels like hours, but can't have been more than 45 minutes when I'd checked the clock on the wall.

He didn't speak, and all I could do was try and sooth him with whatever reassuring whispers I could muster, it's like trying to learn how to comfort a time bomb, you don't know which wires are going to set it off, especially one that I now know never knew what comfort was.

The thought that all these horrible things he does, whether it's the drugs, the meaningless sex or the violence is the only way to comfort himself is heartbreaking.

Can you imagine those things being the closest thing you had felt to a hug your whole life?

I'm crushed for him.

Most of the time was spent with Harry fighting his own emotions, getting frustrated at himself for getting so worked up and fighting back crying like it was poison in his body.

I've seen him upset, this being the second time, but he's never really let himself cry properly, it barely fights it's way out before he sucks himself back in. He just spends the whole time getting irritated that he's showing the vulnerability that he is, and I imagine it's from not being used to it, it feeling uncomfortable and also now that he told me he hates being weak, I'm sure thats how he feels in this state.

By the time he managed to calm himself down to a few sharp breaths, I was still trying to sort through the thoughts in my own mind.

This is all way too much to process at once, I can't possibly listen to him and internalise and cope with how I feel about it, and reassure him the way he needs at the same time.

So I've decided, that all I'm doing to do is listen, and focus on him, how I feel about him and leave forming my opinions and processing all of this properly for another day.

It's just so much, it's so much of things I have no clue about, it's like trying to describe colour to a blind person and I feel totally out of my depth, because I've never experienced the world the way he has.

It's such a clusterfuck of emotions, being devastated over what's happened to him, distraught over things he's done, still pushing aside the hurt from the last week and then the over whelming affection, and adoration crushing my chest because he's finally opened up to me.

I've decided to just listen to the loudest emotion right now, and that emotion is...

That I'm in love with him.

It may be crazy, but if that's how good crazy looks, commit me.

I could never tell him that, maybe he'd never want me to, I can't be sure and maybe one day it might change.

I've barely accepted these words to myself, let alone having him aware of them when I don't even know if he knows what love feels like - if he was ever shown it, I feel like I'd have to show him first, before I ever told him.

I want to do that for him, let him experience someone that loves him for who he is and not what he thinks he is, showing it to him in actions he can interpret and feel so he'll know what I mean if I tell him.

But all I do know, without a doubt in my mind is that I'm in love with this man and his beautiful broken heart, I don't care if it's clouding my judgement, I can feel it in every fibre in my body and I can't deny it any more.