More than a Melody (H.S) ON HOLD

21

twenty one

"Liv?"

The sound of Danny's voice stirs me awake, but when I open my eyes I see nothing but minuscule fragments of lint and black cotton fabric. My face is smothered against Harry's chest.

Our arms and legs are tangled together along the couch, the blanket Miles had graciously given us now on the floor. I faintly see Harry's face twitch, eyes scrunching together as his other senses attempt to register his surroundings.

I caress his cheek, knowing he had a hard night and wanting him to know I was still here all the same- before gently unraveling his body from mine and standing. I face a confused Danny and smirking Delilah, their eyes wandering between Harry's curled knees and my frizzled hair.

"Oh, hi, good morning. Coffee?"

I had absolutely no idea what time it was, all I knew was that I had a shift at five and their flight departed at ten. In the morning, that is. Not-so-obviously.

"Pass," they say in unison, their befuddlement more obvious than the morning sun.

The energy of Harry standing from behind me makes my head whip around involuntarily.

His hands were horribly bruised and littered in cuts but the blood had been cleaned away with alcohol wipes and our once soiled clothes were now warm, dry PJ's. Harry smiles, and I can't help but wonder whether his breath still reeks of whiskey.

"So I do get to say goodbye after all." His ability to hide the sorrow, the uncontrollable crying and shaking that overwhelmed him not but a few hours ago, is impressive. Not in a way that is comforting, though, but concerning.

"When did you get here?" Danny asks as Delilah goes to speak. Her mouth shuts close, though, and I suspect she was beginning to ask the same.

"Uh, late last night. Or this morning, technically."

Danny's eyes flicker down to Harry's knuckles and he stiffens, "what for?"

"His car was having issues and he was in the area, so I told him he could just crash here." I interrupt, not wanting Harry to go into depth about personal tragedies or even talk briefly on the matter.

Danny purses his lips, "I see he's rubbing off on you."

It takes a moment for Delilah and I to register what he's meaning, but when Delilah shoves his arm I realize and give him a "what the fuck?" face.

Harry appears utterly confused.

"Anyways," her eyes roll, "it's already past seven, we have to get going."

"Can I make you some breakfast before you go?" The reality of them leaving hit me hard just then, knowing that soon our relationship would be confined to text messages and phone calls. Once again.

"We can grab something quick to go, if that's okay? The airport is a decent drive."

"Yeah, yeah, of course."

We make our way to the kitchen, where I toast a few bagels and gather some fruits. It's quiet as I do so, the swift glide of my movements all that is heard as they stand awkwardly in the kitchen. I never knew them to be quiet, which led me to believe they were telepathically communicating again.