#HBS47

[looselucy]

Memory Lane

July 18th We had only been in the shop for a matter of minutes and my mind was already elsewhere, eyes lingering on the door leading to the room where I knew the Blood Sun remained. And though Louis, as ever, was on form and doing everything he needed to do to set us up for the day, he had some questions for me that couldn’t wait. “So, you gunna tell me why we’ve been closed for the past two days?” He questioned.

“Not been feeling up to it.” I grumbled. “You wanna talk about it? Because, like… I’ve already figured out that it’s probably to do with Harry. What with him showing up here again.” “Hm.” I disregarded what he was saying, opening the laptop to figure out our stock levels. “Alf.” He scowled. “What?” “Don’t you think you’ve spent too fucking long not talking about this… thing with him.” “I don’t like talking about it.” “That doesn’t mean it’s not good to talk about it.” Of course, I knew that to be true, for various different reasons. I’d encouraged and exampled that behaviour before, but my tongue always seemed to tie when it came to Harry. The fact he was back in Rosebury could have been enough all on its own, never mind what he’d said to me on Thursday morning. I felt it was predictable that I would cower and keep myself locked and tucked up for a few days as my way of coping or ignoring the situation and the things he’d said to me. I adored that Louis was trying to get me to talk about it, showing that tough love that so often helped me retreat from my shell. “He came around on Thursday morning. When I was talking to Lin.” “Shit. Oh shit. Well that’s ideal.” He sniggered sarcastically. “Yeah, it was fucking perfect. Not awkward at all.” My laugh was filled with fatigue. “What did he say?” “Nothing until Lin left. Then he kinda… apologised for everything. Explained himself. It was good.” “Oh. Alright? Well then, what’s-” “Then he told me he loved me.” Seeing his jaw hit the floor actually made me laugh. I still felt the same way, and saying it out loud didn’t make it any more believable. Harry had really told me he loved me. “Fuck off.” He was in disbelief. “Did he really?” “Yep.” “Fucking cheek of it!” He squealed. “After all that shit? He let you believe for over a year that it didn’t mean anything to him, and that he says that?” “Exactly!” I cried. “Like, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” It pained me to admit that Louis had been right, but it already felt so good to talk about it. I suppose it was just nice to hear that he felt the same way about it as I had, because I’d half been expecting him to tell me I should have been happy to hear that from Harry, and that maybe Louis would ask me what I’d done and if we were going to try and figure things out. I was thankful to hear his appalled tone. “That’s insane! How do you feel?” “I was just pissed off! All I could feel was this… anger and this frustration! And I said, I was like… you’re too late. It’s too late.” “How do you feel now? After a few days?” That question didn’t feel as easy to answer. Talking about it with him brought back that first sensation, that annoyance and that resentment I had experienced in the moments immediately following Harry telling me he loved me, but that wasn’t a true reflection of how I felt after giving myself a few days to process everything. I decided to be as honest as I could be without crying. “I feel… I just feel really sad.” I gasped. “Because I know we could have been… so, so amazing. To know that he did love me after all… It feels so wasted now. We loved each other… but this is what came of it? It could have been so much more. It could have been… it. But instead he left. And he… He was in a bad place, I get that… but it’s so gutting. To think what we might have been. It’s agonising.” That was the conclusion I had reached after thinking about it for the past couple of days, and even that didn’t make me feel any better. I was calmer than I had been, which I thought would be better, but it wasn’t. I was going to have to come to terms with the fact that I might never be okay with my feelings towards Harry. “That’s heavy, Alf.” Louis sighed after some time. “Are you okay?” “I think so. I dunno. It was like the second I felt I got some closure… he opened up all these feelings again and now I’m lost. It’s just frustrating. I don’t know what to do.” “I dunno if there is closure with you and Harry. Not right now, anyway. You can’t… look for closure when there’s still all these feelings there. If he’s only just told you he loves you… I don’t think closure is a possibility right now.” “So… Well, what do you think I should do?” “What do you wanna do?” “I dunno, Louis! I need help!” Louis was good with advice, always, but I was also eager to hear what someone on the outside of our situation thought. Both myself and Harry had been audaciously attuned to our emotions when we’d tried to talk the other night, after his confession especially. We’d been doing okay and then he said that he loved me and all semblance of a sensible conversation spiralled. I didn’t want to leave things with him that way, but I also didn’t want to keep trying to speak to him and putting myself through that agony and drudging things up if the outcome was always going to be the same, or some varied version. I always ended up feeling hurt. “Has he gone back to New York?” “No. I think he’s still here.” “Okay, well then maybe you should go and talk to him.” He shrugged. “I know it’s not ideal, him showing up and saying that after everything… but… The way you feel about it goes beyond being mad that he showed up. It’s something else, it means more. You guys had something really special, and I think you need to talk that out. I mean, if at one point you really thought that he was the person you were supposed to be with, like… that’s intense stuff, Alf! That’s not just gunna go away. Nothing ends with an I love you.” His words seemed poignant, if only for a moment. “Unless, y’know… someone dies.” I had to laugh, tutting and rolling my eyes, but as ever, he’d made some fair points. We couldn’t leave things on that note. I’d taken some time and I’d calmed down, but my own thoughts could only get me so far. Maybe Louis was right, maybe it wasn’t closure that we needed, but something else, something completely different to anything I had ever sought from our affiliation, and I couldn’t expect to figure that out on my own. I had to talk things through with him whilst I had the chance. “Go and see him.” Louis encouraged with a soft smile. “See how you feel with a fresh head.” I nodded, nerves beginning to welcome themselves to my body immediately, flowing into me and settling in my stomach for the foreseeable future. To know I was going to see him once again. To know I was going to be in his house again. The uncertainty of how things might turn out. That day felt grotesquely drawn out.

It had been such a long time since I’d walked down the tired trail to Harry’s home, yet I remembered it all perfectly; every stone, every towering tree, every overgrown blade of grass and every single emotion I had ever experienced whilst walking that pathway. The sun was low in the sky, so low that it splintered as it ruptured through the trees, fragmented fractures of light having to fight their way through broken branches, the greenery illuminous beneath the rays. I looked up and around me as I walked, the faint call of a bird singing somewhere close-by assisting me in my efforts to remain calm and keep walking forward. It truly was a beautiful area. I almost caved when his house came into sight. I very almost turned around, forgot the whole thing, but then I took a few seconds, gathered myself, cursed and fumed to myself, and then continued. I couldn’t believe he was there again, actually back in that house. I’d half expected the building to meet the same fate it had once already, that it would become desolate, a place future children in Rosebury would run to, convince themselves it was haunted, question who had once lived there, what had happened between those walls, our love becoming some sort of forgotten legend that only the surrounding woodland would know the truth of. But he was back. I built my courage as much as I possibly could as I made my way up the stairs onto the porch at the front of his house, but thankfully I didn’t feel as close to tears as I thought I might. I knew talking to him was the right thing to do, which was why I was feeling surprisingly good about it, however nervous. I took a few moments in front of the door before knocking, steadying and readying myself. The wait for him to answer the door was one of dread, biting at my lip as I heard a little scuffling coming from indoors, and then all too soon he had swung the door open, eyes and mouth already slightly wide. He must have known it was going to be me. It took him a few seconds to gather himself enough to vocally acknowledge my presence. “Hi.” “Hi.” I smiled shyly. “I uh… Sorry, for showing up like this. I just… I thought we should probably talk.” He looked back over his shoulder, as though he was expecting to see someone there, my brows furrowing as he turned back to look at me. “Now’s not the best time, Fee.” “Oh. Okay. Should I-” I took one step backwards. “Maybe we should just forget it. I probably made a mistake, coming here.” “No!” He reached to grab my hand for just a second through pure instinct, trying to keep me with him, but he quickly let go. “Please… I wanna talk, I do! It’s just… My mum’s here.” He whispered intensely. “What?” I gasped, taking two steps closer. “Julia’s here? Now?” “Yeah, she got here like twenty minutes ago.” He spoke quietly, treading closer so he was outside, dragging the door behind himself and almost closing it fully. “I’m fucking… I’m freaking out, I dunno what to do! I’ll be doing okay, but then when it gets to actually talking… It’s like I can’t! I really wanna talk to her and fix everything but I keep... I just keep choking up! It’s like every time I try I just…” I couldn’t even begin to imagine how overwhelming that must have been for him, to be talking to her again after all those years with no contact whatsoever. It was promising that she was there with him, back in the house she had lived for the first few years of her life before she went into care. The fact she was there was a huge positive that he must have been overlooking due to his fears. It must have been incredibly daunting for both of them. “Hey, it’s okay!” I reassured him. “You’ll be totally fine, I promise.” “I’m just… I’m scared. I really don’t wanna ruin this. Like... I’m scared I’ll say one wrong thing, and that’ll be it. She’ll think I’m the same… fucked up kid I was before and she won’t want anything to do with me. One slip up, and that’s it, I lose her for good.” “That’s not gunna happen, Harry.” I hated hearing him still doubting himself. “You’re… so different now. And she wouldn’t do that, I know it.” “I… I’ve kinda lost my nerve.” He looked down, breathed in. I wanted to question why he felt that way when only a few days earlier he was telling me how much better he’d been doing, how much better he was at handling things and looking at things differently since he’d started having therapy. And then it hit me why he was thinking and feeling that way, beyond the obvious. After what had happened between us the other day, he had started to doubt himself. He’d said the wrong thing and the wrong time, and I’d wanted him to leave. I told him that I thought he would only hurt me again, petrified that he’d put me through the same hell he already had, convinced he hadn’t changed. That was exactly what he was worried would happen with his mother. Only days earlier, he had taken a huge step in his attempts to fix his relationship with one of the women in his life and it hadn’t worked, and now he was trying to fix things with the most important woman in his life and he was scared he’d get the same reaction. It was a miracle that he was going ahead with it at all. I felt nauseous. He lifted his head after a while, mumbling nervously. “Will you… Will you stay?” He asked me, and my face dropped. “I know we’re not… on great terms right now, but… I think you’d really calm me down, and it’d be nice to have someone here who kinda… knows what’s happened, and you’ve spoke to her before, and I think-” “Okay!” I stopped him, worried he may have never stopped rambling if I didn’t. “Yes, I… I’ll stay.” “You will?” “Yeah, of course! If-if you think it’ll help.” Though he’d asked, I could tell from the look on his face that he hadn’t expected the response he’d received. He was baffled, even looking like he was expecting me to change my mind at any second, but that wasn’t going to happen. “Fee…” His voice was quiet, almost like he was exhausted. “I… I dunno what to say. You’re just… You’re so…” “C’mon.” I smiled when he couldn’t speak. “Let’s go fix things, yeah?” Our conversation would have to wait, because as big as it was, there was something bigger at hand that needed handling immediately. He welcomed me back into his home, offering to take my coat the second the door was closed, as polite as ever. It felt rather unsettling, being back there. Nothing had changed because no one had been there to change it, and all I could think was how the last time I’d gotten further inside than his hallway was when we were together, before we fell apart, before he left. I was reminded of us, from the sights and smells and the feeling that consumed me just being in there. I loved his house. Somehow it had always felt like it was our space. We wandered through into the living room, where Julia stood waiting. “Look,” Harry smiled shyly to her. “Someone’s here to see you.” “Oh, Alfie!” She spoke gently but with such joy I could tell she was incredibly happy that I was there, opening her arms and taking me into a friendly hug. “It’s so lovely to see you again.” “You too. I’m so glad you’re here.” I told her, squeezing her rather tightly to wrap up our embrace. “I’m so glad you came back.” “Well, thank you for passing my number along.” She nodded as we pulled away from each other. “I’m so grateful for it. It’s good to be here. Good to be with my son.” I looked to my side to gage Harry and noticed he was still completely at a loss, not able to find the right words. He was really struggling. It was upsetting to see. I stepped up as much as I could. “Uh… How does it feel being back in this house?” “Surreal.” She chuckled through an exhale. “Emotional.” “Yeah, I bet.” “Harry showed me around before you got here. It’s beautiful.” I realised then that they might not have even really attempted to talk about the past in the short time they had been together, and that was because they hadn’t eased. It seemed to me that all they were missing was some very minor steps, things they could do that would help make a difference, put them at ease. I could see she didn’t have a drink, she wasn’t sat down, she wasn’t getting comfortable; even down to little things like them both having their shoes on, Julia in some small heels and Harry wearing his pink converse. They were tiny steps to take, and I knew it would allow them to open up to one another in the way they needed and wanted to. “Julia, I… I keep a pair of slippers here, they’re just upstairs.” I explained. “Do you want to borrow them? Get out of those heels?” “That’d be lovely, thank you.” “I’ll go get them.” Harry offered, likely in a desperate effort to give himself a few moments out of both of our company and gather, but it seemed polite and lovely too. “I’ll go put the kettle on.” I offered, ticking my head towards the kitchen and encouraging Julia to follow me. I understood why Harry had asked me to stay, hoping I’d be the bridge between the two of them, and I was going to do everything I could to make their reaffiliation a little easier, because this was bound to be an incredibly emotional time for both of them. They had a lot to say, so many years lost. I just wanted to help. Stepping into his kitchen felt similar to how it had the very first time I’d been set foot in that room; the curtains were drawn, there were boxes with things that seemed like they needed unpacking, a dirty mug sat by the kitchen sink. But he’d painted over the TOLBINY that had once been carelessly painted onto his wall. I noticed that instantly. The kettle was full and boiling before I spoke again, staying rather quiet. “Are you okay?” I asked her. “Nervous.” “Don’t be. I know he really wants to talk things through and be on better terms, just like you do.” “He’s been really quiet. He showed me around a little, showed me some art of his, but he’s not been much good at talking.” “He’s just scared. He probably needs a bit of liquid courage. I bet he’s stocked up, actually.” I said as I walked over to open the fridge and seeing that there was nothing in there other than a few green bottles of beer. I shook my head, smiled, and grabbed him one. He wasn’t a heavy drinker, I’d only seen him drunk a handful of times, but I’d always known him to love his rare beers, the special and the local beers. He enjoyed a drink, and I knew full well just a few sips would help to settle his nerves somewhat. Myself and Julia chatted a little more and the drinks were fully prepared by the time Harry came downstairs, slippers in hand. She thanked him as he passed them to her, sitting herself at his breakfast bar to take off her shoes and put the slippers on, but then she remained seated. They were settling. It was time. Once Harry had thanked me for fetching his bottle and taken a quick swig, he put it back on the counter, standing between me and his mum. “So… I guess it’s time to talk.” She said. Julia was so gentle, so soft spoken and delicate. She was the least intimidating person imaginable, and I knew that was a huge help when it came to Harry and the way he began just blurting out his thoughts as soon as she’d said that. “Uh… Okay. First… I want to thank you for coming. I probably don’t deserve it, but I appreciate it so, so much.” He began awkwardly, his body facing her but his eyes on the floor. “And… I… M’just gunna say it. I bought the house for you, because I want you to live here and I wanna apologise for everything because I know I fucked up and I guess this is my way of… trying to make up for it. But you don’t need to forgive me, if you don’t want to, but the house is yours either way and… I’m just so fucking sorry, about everything. I might not deserve your forgiveness but I promise I’m always trying to be better and I’m not like Jack and I’m trying and I just wanna make up for everything I did wrong.” I didn’t breathe the whole time he was speaking, and I was pretty sure he didn’t either. Harry wasn’t much good when it came to planning out what he wanted to say, instead he went off feeling, which may have made it messy, but it was genuine at least. His mother’s smile was filled with sadness, getting straight to the point to spare him any more pain. “Harry, I forgave you years ago.” She said, his head lifting with her words. “I didn’t distance because I thought any less of you. I never thought you’d… lost yourself, the way Jack did. I know you only meant to protect me. You’ve always had a heart of gold, Harry. Even when you were a bloody toddler, you were the sweetest thing. I just needed some time, that’s all.” It was so good to know and see the conversation happening, the way Harry was getting the answers he had been looking for ever since he left when he was just 18 years old. I felt the same relief for Julia, who looked as though she had been waiting to explain all of this to him for years, desperate for him to know, she just hadn’t been able to reach him! Harry had asked that I stay, he’d asked for my support, yet I still felt as though I was intruding, like I shouldn’t have been there listening to them discuss all of this. I took a step further away, not so much so that there was an odd distance, but enough that it was their conversation and I wasn’t lingering on the side-lines of it. “I had seen your dad’s depression just tearing him down year by year. We’d been together for twenty years when he…” She couldn’t say it, moving on. “I saw it take his life and then try to destroy ours. After that fight you and Jack got into… all I knew was that I needed to focus on myself and my own happiness, my own wellbeing. I know what being that sad can do to someone, and all their loved ones. I had to think of myself before things got too bad.” “I don’t want you to feel like you have to explain yourself for that, mum.” Harry called. “You could’ve… done that years earlier, and I wouldn’t have you blamed you. Things were… fucking awful. It was awful for so long. You were right to leave, I know that.” “I tried to reach you.” She told him. “I tried so many times, Harry. But it got so difficult, especially when you started making a name for yourself.” “I tried a few times, too. But it was like every time I got close… I convinced myself that you’d reject me anyway, so I’d cower. And… y’know, I wanted to make a change in myself. Because I know I can get angry and I guess… I wanted to try and learn how to handle it. I don’t know if I have, but-” “Harry teaches self-defence.” I found myself butting in, because I knew he wouldn’t have even thought about how brilliant it was that he gave those lessons, what that would have meant to her. “He’s amazing. He’s taught in loads of places, and I know I can only speak from my own experience but… he managed to make me feel comfortable and safe after a really difficult time. It could have completely torn me down, but he lifted me up. I… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank him for it. He was incredible to me.” I could feel his eyes burning at my cheek as I spoke, dazed. It was sometimes difficult to overlook just how much he had done for me during his first few months in Rosebury in terms of making me feel safe. I knew I would have been in a completely different position mentally without him and the classes he had given me. He made me feel strong after experiences that I could have left me weak. “I… I didn’t know you did that.” She stuttered, looking doe-eyed at her son. Though his classes had gone well beyond that now, I knew that the main reason he had initially started teaching women like he did was largely to do with everything that had happened with his mother. It was his way of trying to make amends for his transgressions, trying to right his wrongs. I recalled the first time I’d spoken to him about his classes, how passionate he seemed, how much he cared about what he did, how much he understood the need for classes like his. It may have all started as a generous way of self-healing, but it wasn’t long until his classes became entirely selfless. He didn’t know what to say, shrugging and looking back down to the floor. “You’ve always had this deep need to care for people.” She was rather pensive, musing through her memories. “Even when you’d just started walking, and you’d hold my hand… it was like you were doing it for me rather than for yourself. Like you were holding my hand to take care of me. And when your dad used to have really bad days, you could always sense it. You’d go out of your way to put a smile on his face, before you were even old enough to understand any of it. I remember the two of you listening to Up the Junction and dancing together, that always put the biggest smile on his face. You…” She took a few seconds as she started to cry, trying to keep the strength so that she could talk. “You gave him so much fight, Harry.” He let out the most distressed sob the second she���d said that, one that was unbearable to hear. They’d never had the opportunity to speak. They’d never had this moment of calm where they could discuss things so openly. When Billy was alive, it was their focus to keep him well as much as they could, and then when he’d died, they were all in so much pain and filled with so much frustration, they’d never had the opportunity to come to terms with their devastating loss. Julia had eventually gone off to do that on her own, to focus on herself, but Harry had never quite allowed himself the same luxury. This was probably the first time he and his mother had actually been able to speak about it. Therapy might have helped him, but it would never be able to grant him the sort of freedom this conversation could. “I don’t think I’d have got through any of it without you.” She got up off her chair and scurried around to him when he continued to weep. “C’mere.” They hooked their arms around each other, and as they embraced all I could see was a mother and her little boy. All I could see was a doting mum caring her son in the only way she could. For Harry to finally learn that he had actually been a substantial encouragement when it came to his mother and how she felt when she looked back on her life. He wasn’t this negative like he had thought himself to be. “I’m so sorry.” He sobbed on her shoulder, standing so much taller than her but seeming so much smaller. “I’m sorry too, Harry. I’m sorry we lost each other. I don’t ever want to lose you again.” “I thought you hated me. I’ve been so scared to speak to you.” “I could never hate you. You’re my boy.” It was magical to witness them that way, throwing all the difficult times aside so that they could focus on the love they had for each other and nothing else. It was surprising, how simple it seemed. So many wasted years for them to simply to say to one another that they weren’t angry, they weren’t hesitant – they were just sorry. They had lost so much time and they didn’t deserve to lose a second longer. She must have been so thankful to see the difference between Jack and Harry. It hadn’t been too long since Jack was in her life, and from what she’d told me he had merely talked the talk. He had charmed her and fooled her into thinking he’d changed, only to steal from her. Harry was the opposite; there was no showmanship when it came to her youngest, no grand promises, no pretences, nothing disingenuous. Instead, Harry had proven himself over years of efforts; he had grown and bettered himself in every way he was strong enough to do so. Of course I had fallen in love with a boy like that. No matter his faults, there was so much of him to love. I was on the verge of tears. I felt as though I had played my part, like my role was done. All they had needed was a little push in the right direction, and I’d managed to help them with that. I thought it was my time to go. “M’gunna go.” I began edging towards the door. “I don’t want to get in the way-” “Oh, Alfie, please stay!” Julia begged, breaking the hug and wiping her tears away. “This is your time with Harry, I don’t-” “Alf, please stay. Please.” Harry stepped towards me, gently took hold of my wrist. “I’d really, really love it if you could stay. I could cook for us, I could… Fuck, I… I want you here, please. If-if you can.” His thumb moved in comforting circles over my skin, pleading me with his eyes and his tender touch. I wondered if he wanted to talk to me at some point, too. The other day when he’d told me he loved me, he rang his mum the very same day, dealing with things all at once. Maybe he wanted the same thing that day too, to get it all out of the way. Then again, maybe he just wanted me to stay. I sighed, stuck between this feeling of reluctance and this strange desire to be around both of them, even if I did feel somewhat misplaced. They still had this gorgeous warmth to them, and I wanted to consume that heat for as long as I was able. “Uh… Yeah, okay, I’ll stay.” I said, seeing his grin grow with each word. “But… we really need to talk at some point. Please.” “I know. We will, I promise.” What was already a complicated situation was made incredibly complicated by the fact I had gone to him the very moment he was spending time with his mother, but it had taken so much courage to seek him that I didn’t want to leave and try again at another point. It might have never come around, even if I promised myself I would. And frankly, she was keeping us calm. I had no idea where the conversation might have already gone had she not been there. Harry mumbled a quiet thank you to me before turning around and seeing the look on his mother’s face, the one that I had just noticed, her dastardly eyes darting between the two of us. “What?” He questioned fretfully. “I’m just trying to figure out what you two mean to each other.” She smirked. I was trying to figure out the same thing, as clueless as she was, if not more. I didn’t know what we were then, what we had been, or what we might be in the future. And then Harry said something. Something that shocked me almost as much as his declaration of love had only days earlier. He took a deep breath in before he said it. “She’s the girl in the paintings I showed you.” I scowled as I looked up to him, but he purposefully avoided my gaze, looking directly at his mother, who nodded, seeming to suddenly understand everything completely. “I thought so.” She cooed. “What? Did- What? What paintings?” I blurted, but he didn’t answer me. “Harry? Do you mean me? What paintings?” “She doesn’t know? Have you not shown her?” Julia asked him, the two of them practically ignoring me; not necessarily in a rude way, but they were definitely blocking me out. Harry shook his head, still refusing to look at me. He had painted me. I wasn’t too sure he’d actually wanted me to find out that way. Maybe he hadn’t really wanted me to find out at all. I really didn’t know. All I did know was that he’d painted me and he’d shown those paintings to his mother and I was freaking the fuck out. “Harry?” I tried again, my throat literally stinging as I fought tears. “We… We’ll talk.” He finally turned his head to look at me. “You should show her them, Harry. Whilst she’s here.” “They’re here?” I cried. “Ye-yeah. But probably not for too long. M’gunna be moving again soon. If…” He trailed off, looking back towards his mother. “If you do want the house.” My head was spinning. I’d expected the paintings to be elsewhere, that maybe he’d shown her pictures on his phone, talked her through his new work as a way of avoiding talking about their past. That house was just a temporary space for him whilst he was figuring some things out, leading me to believe he wouldn’t really be keeping anything there, and now he’d actually plucked up the courage to ask his mum to move in there, which was the whole reason he’d bought that beautiful house in the first place. I could barely comprehend that there were paintings of me in that very building, but at the same time I wanted to shun all of that momentarily so that I could concentrate on Julia’s reply to his offer. She took her time, unsure how to answer him. “Oh, Harry.” She sighed, and I instantly knew he wasn’t going to get the answer he had hoped for. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you offering to do that for me. It’s so wonderful, and I can’t believe you’d even think of that. But… I don’t think living here is going to make me happy. It might have at one point, but that was a long time ago and a lot has changed. I’m extremely settled and happy where I am at the minute, and I want the same thing for you!” Harry looked utterly lost. This had been his plan for years. This has been his road to peace and acceptance, and she’d just said no! And as reasonable as that was and however lovely she had been about it, I could see from the blinded look of horror on Harry’s face that it had left him at a total loss. She continued to explain herself, hoping to put him at ease. “You did such an incredible thing for me by buying this house, but… it’s no way of moving forward. It’s like you’re clinging onto a past that’s not even yours, Harry. You’re so focused on fixing things with me that you’ve not given yourself the time to focus on yourself and what you want. Where you want to be. We both deserve to move on and be happy, and moving to a place me and your dad used to dream about moving to is no way for me to do that.” I suppose I’d never thought of it that way. When he’d told me why he’d bought that house, I thought it was the most quixotic and spectacular thing he could have done for her. I never imagined her to say no, and I never imaged that she would have such valid reasons behind her rejection. She looked sad to tell him and he looked sad to hear it, but at least she had been honest about it. It couldn’t have been easy for her to say that given how grand the gesture, but it was the right thing to do. All I could hope was that it didn’t crush Harry too much. He had spent years zoning in on this fantasy of his mother being back in that house; it had been the culmination of the need he had in his very core to fix what he thought he had broken. I think he’d convinced himself that it would be the answer to everything, that his happiness would be hard to find and sustain without it. But it wasn’t to be. And he seemed a little devastated.

I peered around the doorway from the living room and watched the two of them saying goodbye to each other. They were hugging, squeezing each other as tightly as they could. I could just about hear a faint whispering coming from Julia, but I couldn’t decipher what it was she was saying, which was probably a good thing; it wasn’t for my ears to hear, and the sight probably wasn’t for my eyes to see, but it was hard to look elsewhere. They were so incredibly tender and caring with one another, so happy they had finally rekindled, relieved and tearful. I wouldn’t have ever been able to describe how happy I was for both of them. After a long, emotional farewell, Julia eventually left the house where she had spent the first few years of her life, leaving her youngest son stood by the front door with his head down, attempting to come to terms with everything that had changed over the hours in which she had been there with him. I stepped out into the hall. “You okay?” He turned around to look at me, my voice somehow coming as a surprise to him, likely still rather dazed by everything that had just happened. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, m’fine.” He mumbled. “You sure?” “Mm.” As unconvincing as he was, I knew that he was overwhelmed more than anything. Overall, the experience had been a good one for him. It may not have panned out exactly as he had imagined, but it was still a significant improvement on how things had been. After she’d told him she didn’t want to move into the house, things had eased. Harry had cooked for us, we’d all spoken freely, casually, happily. What had started as a rather grave situation was gradually altered into a fun, enjoyable one. It had been a positive experience for him, I knew that, but it must have been difficult to come to terms with that so soon. He looked as tired as I felt. “I’m proud of you, Harry. You did really well.” “Thank you for staying. I… I dunno why, but you’re… very calming to me.” He gulped. “You made that easier. You didn’t have to stay but you did and… Thank you. It means a lot to me.” Even though it had been a strange evening, I was glad I’d stayed too, not solely for his benefit. I could see an improvement in him, a change. He was no longer the boy who couldn’t and wouldn’t speak about his feelings, or speak about anything, really. When he’d first moved to Rosebury, he was an expert when it came to seeming like he was totally open and friendly and welcoming whilst simultaneously not divulging any real personal insights whatsoever. It was impressive. But he didn’t seem to be that way anymore. He wanted to talk. He was comfortable talking. He was bettering himself through these tiny actions and alterations as opposed to these large, wistful ideas that ended up holding him back and making him miserable. I enjoyed being around him that night. More than I cared to admit. “It’s fine.” I sighed and smiled. “Um… Look, I know we said we’d talk, but times just flown tonight and it’s late and I’m exhausted and-” “Fee-” “I need to sleep. I’ll come back, I promise. I really do wanna talk with you, Harry, but I can’t do that when I’m this tired.” I chuckled. “But… I mean, obviously there’s still stuff we need to talk about, so I promise I’ll come back.” “Or you could stay!” He blurted. “What?” “You could- You should stay.” “I… I don’t think so. I mean, it’s only a five-minute walk-” “I’ve missed having you here.” “You’ve not been here yourself.” I cried. “Well then I’ve missed having you near.” He corrected himself. “I miss having you around me and… Please. Please just stay. We can talk first thing and… Fuck, fine, I know it might not make sense for you to stay but I want you to stay. I want you here. Please.” He was bizarrely endearing. I couldn’t help but smile. There was a wonderful tenderness to him then, alongside his obvious nerves and his sweet desperation. There was no need for me to stay. It didn’t make any sense, but there was something telling me to accept his offer. I took my time to reply, made him sweat. “I’m staying in the spare room.” I said. He grinned, the most genuine smile gracing his face, a tension being released from his body just knowing I’d be spending the night close to him. “Yes, boss.” He smirked. I could literally feel the blood draining from every other part of my body and rushing right to my cheeks, dropping my head so he couldn’t see the bright pink that flushed my skin, but if anything I think I made it all the more obvious. “Okay… m’gunna go up.” I said without looking up at him, turning around and heading up the stairs straight away in a plea to escape the situation. “You want a drink or anything?” “Nope.” I bleated as I scuttled quickly upwards. I heard him following close behind, my heart beginning to beat out of my chest. It had been so long since we’d walked up those stairs together, and my instinct was to walk right down to the end of the corridor into his room. I wondered how empty it might be in there, whether he’d left his plants to die or if they were no longer there, leaving a room with a bed and nothing else. I didn’t give myself the opportunity to find out. I stopped myself, veering off to my left and into the spare room, just about to turn around and slam the door shut, but he was right there, looking at me with something hidden in his eyes, a longing, a lust. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, looking back up to him. He could still make me nervous, more than anyone else ever had. No one had ever had that effect on me; it was specific to him. He gave me the certain sensation, like he had the first time I’d been in his house with him, and it felt like he could just grab me and kiss me at any second, like he had then. “Goodnight, Fee-Fee.” He whispered. “Goodnight.” I whispered back to him. We kept our eyes on each other until the very last second, until the door was closed and we were blocked off from one another completely. As tired as I had been, I didn’t get to sleep for another hour or so after clambering into bed. Just the thought that he was tucked up in the room next to mine made it so difficult to drift, the thought that there were paintings of me in that house. I ignored every temptation that told me to leave that room and get into bed with him.

[looselucy]

OKAY HELLLLOO HBS47! It was beautiful! Truly truly truly. You’re such a magnificent writer and everything in this chapter was so touching. I am slammed with work this week and I have to be off any minute but just know I’ve virtually written a dissertation in my head about how lovely everything was in this weeks chapter. Tons of love ❤️

This makes me so so so happy, thank you so much!