oh, anna [-hs]

oh anna

a/n ope ope ope title chapter incoming!

25.
HARRY'S POV

We sit on the fire escape for a while, wrapped together in the blanket and looking out at nothing in particular. She rests her head on my shoulder hesitantly. I can tell she feels weird because of her outburst. Guilty maybe, angry, annoyed. With me? I hope not. The thought of her being upset with me is hard to stomach.

What she said hurt, but it's not real. That's what I have to keep telling myself. I have to keep reminding myself of what she's said in the past. That my touch leaves traces of red against her skin, that she cares, she's jealous, she wants something she's not ready to have. It's so obvious, the way she's sitting here with me quietly now. It's what she wants. She wants to stay.

I've tried to be really intentional about touching her today. In the car and now out here. I know it's something that she resonates with, just like me. We're both very physical people.

I just want her to feel something here. I want her to feel like there's no option but to be together because I know as soon as she has an out she'll take it. Maybe that's selfish of me, but I know that what's holding her back isn't something she can control or wants to keep. I feel like I have to push her.

"That night," she begins to speak, breaking the quiet suddenly. "When I called you baby," my heart freezes up at the phrase, but I nod. "I heard you, in your bedroom as I was falling asleep. You were singing a song. Singing, don't call me baby again, over and over." She looks up at me. I can feel her chin resting softly against my shoulder. I can feel her breath against my neck. "Why was that?"

I keep my gaze fixed on the building before us and rub the end of the blanket between my fingertips. "It didn't feel right." I decide. And it's true. At the time it felt like a word she used with Emma, not with me.

She shrugs and turns away. "I don't know. It's just a word of endearment, a nickname. It's something you call someone you care about. I don't think that's weird."

Someone you care about.

The phrase makes the back of my neck heat up. She wants this. She cares about me. That's what she told me on the floor of her bedroom at my house. That's what she's telling me now. She doesn't know it, but that's her bedroom in my mind. No one else will ever get to sleep there.

"Well then call me baby," I concede. We fall back into a lulling silence, but then she breaks it once more.

"Baby," she mumbles shyly.

"Yeah," I murmur back, bringing my hand up to run through my hair.

"That night, you called me Anna. You called me my middle name." She barely whispers. My heart seizes again. The way she's suddenly opening up, talking to me, touching me, I know it's because she feels guilty for blowing up, for making me cry. "No one's ever called me that before."

"Mm," I respond. "Well maybe that can be my word for you."

"Okay," she agrees. And I feel satisfied with that. For now that can be enough, for a few minutes I can be satisfied with just having a word. One word that's ours.

The window creaks behind us. "Hey baby," Emma calls out. We both turn around to look at her. "Oh," her eyes widen when she sees me. "I didn't realize you were out here," she nods to me. "I was just coming to check on Quinn because she's been out here a while, most everyone's gone home."

"It's okay," Quinn smiles softly and pushes the blanket off her shoulders, slowly standing up. As she moves away from me, the chill of the night seems to seep back under my skin. I shiver a little and watch my breath cloud up in the air. "I think I'm going to bed anyway." She steps over my legs to get to the window, and before she climbs in she turns back to look at me. "Goodnight, Harry."