Paradise ||H.S||

Ch.3

                                                      ________________________

                                                                  _________________________

                                                                        
I feel like I'm drowning

You're holding me down and

Holding me down

  ___________________________

                                                                 ____________________________

"Want to catch some air outside?"

I freeze.

I lied, this is my nightmare personified.

I can't go outside with him, I can't.

The sentence turns my blood cold.

It's funny how such a simple task could be so daunting. A simple gesture. A simple show of kindness.

It's funny how this panic is inconsistent, how I could dance with this "stranger" for hours, yet can't muster the courage to do the simple task of going outside with him.

It's not him specifically that's triggering this reaction from me. But the implication of what might happen in the moments outside. The implication of being completely alone with him. No Ellie to save me. To pull me out of there.

I realize I've been staring off at the same spot without giving Harry an answer.

He's still looking at me, but instead of expectantly, it's more of an empathetic look.

"You know, maybe I shouldn't have asked," he says softly. Not in any way condescending.

He looks at me like he knows something. Like he just realized something about me.

He looks like he understands.

Which comes as a huge surprise to me. Most people in my life have guilted me for my reactions. For my "unnecessary" fear.

I don't know what's so different about this particular man in front of me. What differs from him and the rest of the people I've come across in my life.

For some reason he feels like an old friend. Like a companion.

I have to explicitly remind myself that I've only just met him.

Life doesn't work like this. There's no magical fairytale ending. No "saviour". No knight in shining armour. Definitely no curly haired men sent to "save" me.

This isn't a fairytale Sylvia.

"I think I might head home," Harry says, looking at me with those hypnotic emerald eyes. Grabbing his jacket from the back of the stool he's sitting on, he gestures for the waiter to bring him the bill.

"I'm sorry" I mumble, feeling guilty for not going with him. I feel so weak. Why couldn't I just have left with him. He's been kind, respectful, and fun this entire time.

And I couldn't even go outside.

He turns in his stool. Confused look on his face. "What are you apologizing for, love." he says.

"You've done nothing wrong."

"I feel like I owe you." I tell him, looking down at my feet dangling from the stool.