camp cherry two | hs

fifteen

HANA

Harry is in a surprisingly good mood considering the fact his mom is visiting again and we're currently in the most awkward situation I could probably imagine.

The sun had just began to set, painting the sky deep shades of red and pink, and Carl, Anne, Harry and I are sat in complete and utter silence, aside from the clinking of our utensils against the bowls as we eat our pasta.

I thought the last dinner we had here was as bad as it gets, but apparently not.

"So... Hana, what are you thinking of studying at university?" Anne asks awkwardly, Harry freezing and proceeding to twist the spaghetti around his fork very slowly.

"Nursing - I want to be a nurse." I answer simply, keeping my voice even and short as I can tell Harry wants to escape from this nightmarish situation as soon as possible.

The room once again falls into silence, and I notice Harry sets down his utensils and seems to not be eating any more, although he's barely gotten through half of his dinner.

"I'm just gonna go outside, I'll be back in a minute," he excuses himself quietly, brushing his fingertips over my lower back and smiling sweetly, clicking the door shut softly as he exits swiftly.

"Have you ever been to Italy?" Anne asks, presumably just trying to keep the dying conversation going.

"No, I've always wanted to, though. Just never got the chance," I offer a tight lipped smile before clearing my throat and excusing myself from the table, slipping out of the stuffy room and into the cutting cold of outside. "Baby, are you alright?"

"Cherry," he speaks to alert me of his presence, my head twisting to locate the voice to see Harry sat on a cheap plastic chair around a small table, facing away from me and placing his hand on mine appreciatively as I rest my own hand on his shoulder. "Let me see?" he requests, and I instantly know exactly what he's talking about, taking a seat on another chair and awkwardly lifting my leg so my ankle would rest on his legs, his fingertips immediately beginning to trace the cherry on my skin.

"You alright?"

"Surprisingly enough - yes, I'm kind of just tired of it all," he answers evenly, staring at my tattoo directly, continuing to copy the lines.

"One day we'll get a break, promise," I sigh in exhaustion of everything that keeps happening to us, his focus flickering to my eyes before he smiles and shies away.

"When? Feels like we've been waiting forever and it's just not happening. When do we get a break?" he asks; I can see in his eyes how tired of all the drama he is, how badly he needs to get away.

"I don't know, baby, maybe Italy will be good for us. A few days away from here, it's a lot hotter and nicer in Italy than here," I chuckle, Harry expelling a short breath in amusement. Bending awkwardly, I reach over and grasp his chin, forcing him to face me, "I love you. Should we go back inside?"

He doesn't reply, setting my foot down on the porch and standing, though he waits for me and links his little finger with mine to silently return my words.

When we return, the tension is somehow worse yet less obvious, Anne and Carl's plates empty as they speak quietly. "We've spoken and you can stay in Italy for a little while longer, if you choose, until next weekend," Carl states as soon as we enter the room. Harry sighs tiredly.

"We'll go for the wedding and we'll see," he replies shortly, the chair squeaking embarrassingly loudly as he yanks on the edge to pull me as close as he can, both of the other presences in the room noticing immediately. Anne smiles absentmindedly whilst Carl retains a neutral expression.