Accident Prone |h.s|

Chapter 19: Blame

April 2020

Harry is in the worst mood today.

Honestly, I've never seen him like this. He's barely spoken to me and when he has, it's been short quipped sentences and rolled eyes.

When he came back from his walk, I greeted him with a chipper "Morning, H!" To which he responded my grunting and walking past me.

Geez, bro. Who peed in your Cheerios this morning?

I'm trying to remember if there was anything that could have triggered this but I'm at a loss. Life has been surprisingly excellent the past couple weeks for the both of us. We've been joking a ton and we seem to be enjoying life in quarantine as much as we can.

Personally, I've discovered a love for doing absolutely nothing and it's wonderful.

It's the middle of April and the weather is absolutely gorgeous. We can't really go out to anywhere fun but we've been making sure to order from businesses we love and support them.

So that's why I'm so confused about Harry's behavior. It's almost like a light switch has been turned and he's suddenly a different person.

Actually, his rudeness is starting to piss me off.

We've been slowly getting back to our normal selves after the sex incident. If normal means working out with him more and more, even though I don't lose any weight and I look the exact same while he gets more buff everyday. He makes me do physical activity and I make him binge watch my favorite shows while eating takeout.

But my absolute favorite part of the last couple weeks has been Harry sharing his new music with me. It's in the very early stages for most of it but it brings me to tears almost every time I hear them. He even asked me to accompany him on the piano, which after much begging and pleading I finally agreed. It's been magical to experience the process with him. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Today, it seems like none of that matters. He's been moping around the whole house with his shoulders slumped and he's barely spoken. To my surprise, he even snapped at Jed this morning which absolutely never happens. Snapping at anyone is not something Harry does to anyone, let alone his friends.

Don't get me wrong, being in quarantine isn't always easy and carefree. Sometimes I'm so trapped in my own brain, let alone the house, that life doesn't feel real. Without my normal job to rely on, my days feel useless and I have nothing to do with my time.

But you don't see me taking it out on anyone.

I'm sitting at the kitchen counter, rereading my favorite Austen novel when Harry stomps in angrily. I look up as he forcefully opens up drawers one after the other in search for something. The whole time he's muttering to himself under his breath.

"Need any help?" I offer innocently.

"No. I'm fine." He says as he slams yet another drawer shut. "Ugh! Why are there no damn lighters in this house?!" He yells after another moment of searching.

"In the cabinet above the toaster, Harry." I say quietly hoping not to antagonize him more. Can you say overreaction?

He opens the cabinet and easily finds the missing lighter and huffs an ungrateful "thanks" as he storms off to his music room.

I have no idea how to communicate with this Harry. This isn't my Harry. He's usually the one who is calm and can rationalize. I never have to think about our communication because he's always the one to fix it.

Did I do something to piss him off? He might be sick of me being in his house. Or maybe he's sick of LA in general and wishes he was home.

I go over and over the last couple days in my head and I can't think of one thing that could make him this mad.

You know what? Screw this.

He's gonna talk to me whether he likes it or not.

I hop down off the stool and stomp my way down the long hallway to the music room. I pause before I reach for the handle as I try to compose my thoughts. I smell the weed and incense before I even open the door.

Well, at least he'll be calmer than before.

The sound of ear screeching electric guitar fills my head as I enter the soundproof room. I didn't knock but I doubt he would have heard me anyway. 

I make my way over to him quickly, while I still have my nerve and the adrenaline is pumping through me. He's looking through his vintage vinyl collection as he tries to choose a new album. He doesn't notice me until I'm standing directly in front of him.

"Yeah?" He says as some sort of greeting as he turns town the volume on the speaker.

"Would you mind telling me what the hell is wrong with you? Or at least letting me know when this attitude is gonna be over?" I say crossing my arms and keeping my cold eyes on his.

"What the fuck are you talking about, I'm fine."  He replies with his face as equally cold but his eyes falter at the word "fine".

"Harry. Come on. I know you and this is not you. Now tell me." I take a step closer to him. "I'm not leaving this room until you tell me."  Trying to soften my tone.

He's silent for a moment. His eyes shifting between mine like he's trying to decide how much of himself he should let me see.

"It's just a shitty day, that's all." He says looking down as he inspects the vinyl cover in his hands.

"No, there's more than that. Tell me." I take the album out of his hand and place it on the chair next to me. We are having this conversation whether he likes it or not.

"I just... it's just.. ugh." He huffs, obviously frustrated. "Well first of all, I got papped on my hike this morning so that was brilliant. Now there's cameras waiting at the end of the driveway for me. And not to mention no one thought I was in the states, so now they all know. And I'm just so sick of not being able to leave this house. I feel like the world isn't even out there anymore. Like what's the point? And I just... today was supposed to be the first day of my tour. I was supposed to be on a stage in front of thousands and touring with my friends in Europe but instead I'm stuck in this house alone."

"Alone? Alright, I see." My voice soft as I let my emotions slip through.

I understand and I sympathize that he can't be where he wants to be. But I'm here too. He's not alone.

Maybe he would prefer it that way.

At my response, he looks up at me with apologies in his eyes. He begins to speak but I interrupt whatever half assed apology he was about to say. He obviously meant every word he just spoke.

"Listen, I get it. This isn't ideal for anyone. You want to be out there entertaining thousands and I want to be able to work and live my life but we can't. This is life right now whether you want to be here with me or not. I'm sorry that I'm here and that I'm imposing on you but right now I have no other choice." My tears threatening to spill over as I end my long winded speech. "But if you don't mind, I have to go pick up the dinner I ordered for us. I'll see you later, Harry." I turn at the stunned look on his face and rush out the door. I faintly hear him say my name but it's muffled by the closing of the soundproof door.

If he wants to be alone, fine. I'll let him be alone. I'll stay in my room and avoid him. I don't have to interact with him at all. He can bitch and moan all he wants but he can't blame me for everything going on right now.

As I get into my car, I look into the rear view mirror and wipe my eyes clean. I'm not gonna cry over this.

The paparazzi don't even bother taking my photo as I leave. They know I'm not Harry as I drive away in my worn down Prius. This is one of those moments I'm thankful to not have any notoriety.

No one cares about me.

Not even Harry, apparently.