Perspective

Chapter Sixty Three.

"Scar tissue that I wish you saw

Sarcastic mister know-it-all

Close your eyes and I'll kiss you 'cause

With the birds I'll share

With the birds I'll share this lonely view"

Song: Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers

A/N: Ohai, it's been a hot minute waiting for this story, I apologize. Thank you for being here though, I appreciate you. I missed you and this story.

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Life can be... funny.

There's an ironic humour in how things can change and yet stay the same.

During this last week since I kissed Harry, and he practically had his life flash before his eyes over the fact he forgot to wear condom when we had sex in his car afterwards -- things have been different and yet painfully similar.

I did end up going back to Frankies and staying the night after what happened in the car, and to be perfectly honest that whole night felt amazing.

Blue felt like comfort again.

I fell asleep that night wrapped up in that same neon glow that blankets his room when we went to bed, while being immersed in every single thing about him and everything I missed so desperately.

His warmth. His smell. His touch.

The feeling of his chest falling and rising against my back to the steady rhythm of his breathing, while he drifted off to sleep with his arm clung around my waist and his nose buried against my hair. It had me fighting falling asleep so I could savour it knowing how empty it felt when it wasn't there.

All while serenaded by the asthmatic style wheezing and snoring lullabye, from Gizmo who plonked himself belly up on the end of the bed.

It was impossible to stay awake, even though I tried to fight it. The last few weeks I'd barely been able to sleep far more than usual, and being so close to him again was like a sedative to my mind. I was able to fall asleep without that god awful feeling in my stomach, or my head spinning with endless intrusive thoughts.

I felt relaxed. My mind became temporarily quiet again.

I'm assuming Harry felt relaxed as well, because he was out not even five minutes after his head hit the pillow.

Frankie may as well have had the corners of his mouth stapled to his fucking ears the next morning when he saw Harry and I came downstairs from Harrys room, with Gizmo waddling behind us.

Harry and I both said Good Morning but both Alex and Frankie just shared knowing looks between each other as a response.

Frankie was sitting at the kitchen island eating breakfast with Alex, while he was nearly choking on his eggs from the strain of him trying to hold in whatever he wanted to say.

Alex was absolutely not subtle either, drinking his coffee that he seems to live on like it's food; he was staring dead at Harry and I while Harry was rummaging through the fridge and asking what I wanted for breakfast.

By staring, I mean he had his thick brows shot up and eyes wide with a 'you two so fucked, and I am dying to point that out' look, damn near not blinking while his tall ass dwarfed Frankie even when sitting next to him.