DIFFERENT [hs] |Complete|

Fifteen

Harry.

Who are you, Harry?

That question continued to puzzle me simply because... I don't know. I'd been born completely oblivious to my true identify, and until the moment where everything went to hell I had a somewhat understanding of what my "destiny" was. If I knew I wouldn't be stressing out, pulling my hair both physically and metaphorically. 

The fact that in less than four months I would be an alpha of a whole pack, a pack that spreads over a whole city is a terrifying thought. There are more than just those who hang around the Nemora, hundreds more and if not thousands. I'm not ready, and I'm aware everybody knows it. The boys know it. 

Now that it had been known that Dave is out there killing those who had joined him years ago, it's definitely worrying and adds a whole load on my shoulders. The pack isn't run by anyone, but right now Michael seems to be a sufficient leader. He understands the role of leadership whereas I seem so belittled in his presence. But nothing we have is an amendment, it cannot be changed. 

I've never harmed another being in my life, but I had a strong premonition that statement won't stand to be true in a short while. 

"What are you going to do?" She asks, and the fact that she cares immensely about my situation even though she has no involvement means something to me — it means a lot actually. I turned to look at her, noticing how tight her expression was. Her nose was crinkled and lips in a thin line. She was staring at the stone bench whilst tapping her fingers together in such a delicate way it showed just how fragile she was. But I knew she wasn't soft at all, she was so persistent and went for everything she wanted that it was admirable. 

I tore my gaze away from her to my lap, "I don't know. I don't know what to do about anything. This is just something that I want nothing to do with, yet everything is my problem. And it's all my fault."

"Nothing is your fault, and it's only your problem because you're making it so." Little did she know that somehow this was my issue, and I was the only solution. Time was just acting like a teasing bitch, but there was no way I could avoid it. "Well whatever the problem is, it will be solved. Everything is going to be okay." 

Her hand rested on my knee with a small squeeze that had me shivering in the slightest. The smallest of contact from her, the simplest, had me feeling all kinds of messed up. She's so positive and good, the light to most darknesses and right now she's making me smile even though that's the last thing I felt like doing. 

She's intrusive, stubborn, deluded (on the occasion) and completely difficult but she's also genuine, admirable, considerate for other's wellbeing over her's and most of all she's so incredibly beautiful. The physicality of a human being is so much more different to the emotional aspects of one. She's just such a good-fucking-person.  

Her lips are moving and forming words that I have no absolute care about, just watching them full and plump makes me remember how they felt against mine. In that few seconds I wanted more, but it was wrong, so wrong. 

"And if you ever need anything, I'm right here, okay?" She concluded what she was saying that I had not focused on. I replied with a nod and a smile at her caring nature, which was one of the things I liked about her so much. She offered me another drink to which I declined, so we both moved to the living room and sat on the largest sofa so we had our full attention to the television. 

"If he's trying to cover his huge ass bald patch then he's doing a real shit job at it," she remarked about the weather man, then covered her mouth trying to muffle out her laughs. My eyes widened as I stared at her, bewildered by her criticism. "I mean, it's like he just combed the back of his head to the brow. What is he thinking!"