meraki.

Apology Nutella

It was the middle of the night when Anna's stomach woke her up. 

She had managed to fall asleep - not without problems - around midnight. Her and Harry had set foot inside of the building at barely 9pm, with a still frenzied Harry, before he pinned her against the wall; he had set foot inside of the apartment shortly after the incident. 

Anna had set foot inside of the apartment way later. She hadn't bothered to check the time, but the position of the moon in the sky clearly indicated that it was way past 10pm. 

It had taken her some time to calm her breaths down, get her heartbeat back to a normal and gentle pace, and feel strong enough on her legs to hoist herself up and step inside of the apartment. 

Harry had disappeared inside of his room - which was fine to her: she was having enough troubles on her own to function properly, and seeing him would've only made things worse for her. 

It was too late to even try and deny it, or turn the whole thing around: Anna had fallen. 84 years after the croaked promise she had let out towards her father - she knew he was looking down at her in that moment - Anna had broke that promise and had fallen for another mortal. 

All the years she had spent on her own, denying herself the company of others, breaking friendships before they could flourish and put her in a risky position had taught her to repress her feelings to the point where they wouldn't have been able to blossom on their own. 

Unless someone would've poked at them with a little stick. 

And that night, pinned against the wall, unable to move, Harry had poked at her repressed feelings with a giant stick. A giant tempting stick. 

Everything inside of her was screaming, writhing and squirming, trying to break free and cancel the distance between their bodies and seal their lips together in a fateful first kiss. 

The only thing that had been able to stop her had been the thunder exploding outside of the window: it had brought her back to reality, reminding her the reason she had been saving herself all those years, the faces of all the people she had had to take their soul from, the heartbreak that had almost drained her of her own vital force. 

Too busy being lost in her own thoughts, she hadn't even heard what Harry was saying to her. 

Everytime she closed her eyes all she could see was Harry. 

His lips, his arms, his hands pressed against the wall on each side of her head, his eyes, his contracted jaw, his tongue. 

Living so close yet so far from the person she had fallen for was consuming her - which, coincidentally, was the exact opposite of the curse Zeus had cast on her 2019 years prior: instead of being the one to take the life out of the person she loved, Anna was consuming her own vital force to keep herself away and her feelings at bay. 

Her repressed love for Harry was literally killing her. 

And she didn't know how long she had left, acting like that, especially considering how Harry was acting around her since a while. 

That surely wasn't good for her: as long as he kept his distance from her, everything would've been fine, and it had been like that for the first times, when Harry had had flames and girlfriends and dates and everything else. 

But now he didn't have those, and he was keeping close to her because of her head injury - which, by the way, had cured itself within the first 24 hours but she was still keeping the bandage around her forehead for looking like a human being - and he had been sweet, and delicious to be around, which had only made her feelings for him increase and strengthen and settle inside of her heart, right at the bottom, where no one would've been able to rip them off from.