Ebony & Ivory [H.S]

Twelve

 PLEASE VOTE! I'M NOT SHOUTING, I'M JUST WRITING IN CAPS SO YOU SEE IT BETTER. THANKS, YOU'RE THE BEST. OK I'LL STOP SHOUTING NOW!

"Funny you're the broken one 'cause I'm the only one who needed saving"

Hanging up the phone to Harry I begin unpacking my bags from the trip to my Dad's. Now that I'm home again, I truly appreciate having that time away from everything to clear my head - even if it was just for a little while. I never realised how much I needed a break from everything going on, until I got away from it all. Now it's back to reality.

Being away from home gives you a chance to miss it, and everything in it, and now I know what I want. I want Harry. I just hope that he feels the same way.

I can't really predict how Harry will react when I tell him how I feel... I understand that it may not go how I want to. He may have his doubts about the state of our relationship, and the seemingly impossible road we have ahead of us, but all I'm asking is for him to try for me. To try for us.

I undress and run the water of the shower, holding my arm underneath the stream of water until I'm satisfied that it's warm enough. The hot water rains down over my skin, and I stand under the shower head until I immediately begin to feel better. I'm assuming whoever created the phrase that chicken noodle soup is good for the soul, has never experienced a decent shower.

I sit on my chair in front of my mirror in the fluffiest white towel that I can find. and wipe my face, unable to determine the difference between the droplets of water, and my fallen tears.

I hear Harry struggling with the front door, and then the sound of his keys being placed on the table. My heart is pounding, and I'm unsure if I should get up to greet him. Whether I like it or not, I'm rooted in my place.

He eventually opens the door to my bedroom, putting on a new t-shirt as he enters.

"Why'd you change your shirt?" I ask, instantly regretting my choice of words as he hasn't even walked into the room yet, and that is what I'm concerned about. "Sorry," I correct myself.

"It's fine. I was with Cal and his wife. We made waffles and I got some mixture on my shirt," he answers quite preparedly.

"Oh nice, when did they get in town? I thought they weren't planning on coming to London for another couple of weeks," I reply.