Chapter 47: forty-six

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I got out of the house, looking up just to see that Harry was leaning against the driver's side of his car, his gaze focused on something on the ground as he waited. I shut the door, my fingers gripping the strap of my bag a bit tighter as I walked towards him, a slight nervousness in my step as the memory of the events of the previous day crossed my mind.

I understood that something was wrong even before reaching him. He was wearing his usual black coat, but his beanie had been thrown on carelessly, his eyes still drawn to the same spot on the floor even after he heard me come closer. I sighed, stopping next to him. There were dark bags under his eyes, proving that he probably hadn't slept well during the night, the look on his face was evidently tensed, even though it was obvious he was trying his best to act as he always did.

"Is Niall here too?" I asked, giving a little glance to the backseat through the car window, just to find it completely empty. I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering where he was. As far as I knew, his and Harry's friends were the same, and it wouldn't have made sense to have someone else pick him up when Harry could've done it just fine with his car.

Harry shrugged, his attention still focused on that spot on the floor. "He didn't trust me with his son" he replied quietly, making my eyes widen. I knew that the action itself didn't bother him much, given he'd always hated to drive Niall around, but I was also certain that the cruder meaning behind it certainly hadn't gone unnoticed by him.

I stared at him in silence for a couple of seconds, trying to decide what to do. Despite the lack of reply, he didn't make a move to glance in my direction, for some reason finding the floor much more interesting. "Turn off the car" I said in the end, successfully managing to catch his attention.

He slightly turned his head to look at me, the faintness of his reaction being somewhat concerning. "What?" He asked, a frown making its way on his face at my words, making me feel as if he'd only truly heard me in that moment.

I furrowed my eyebrows at the confused look on his face. For the first time his walls seemed to be crumbling down, the facade he'd accurately built for himself being harder to keep up due to the stress he was in, and it was kind of unsettling, if not scary. "You aren't going to school like this" I said, adding a little shrug to my words to try to lessen the intensity of what I was suggesting. Never I would've thought I would've been the one suggesting to skip a school day - not because I was a perfect student, but simply because I was scared of somehow getting caught doing that.

He gave me an equally confused look, probably not believing that I'd just suggested something like that as well, that lasted just before a couple of seconds, before detaching himself from the car, opening the door and taking the key out of the ignition. I turned to look in the direction of my house, worry washing through me as I realised that my mother still hadn't left to go to work. I bit my lower lip, knowing that if I'd managed to find a good enough reason to stay at home, she wouldn't have had any issue with that - mostly because I'd always been quite responsible. It would've been fine to act a little more spontaneously for once.

I watched as he closed the door and locked the car, my fingers playing with my house keys in my pocket. When he was done I started walking towards the door to my house, knowing that he would've followed me. We stopped in front of it and I unlocked the door, opening it slowly and glancing inside as I hesitantly stepped in, trying to find out where my mother was. I closed the door as soon as Harry walked in behind me, putting down my bag and taking off my coat, hanging it next to the door and freeing up space for Harry to hang his.

I walked down the hallway, peeking into the kitchen to see if it was empty. I knew it wasn't realistic of me to think that my mum could've left to go to work before finding out both Harry and I were in the house, but I would've still done all I could to delay the moment she would've found out as much as possible, especially because Harry didn't seem to be in the right mindset for that kind of confrontation.

"Let's go in the kitchen" I suggested quietly, entering the room with a little careful glance in the direction of the stairs to make sure my mother wasn't about to come down.

We entered the room and I leant against the counter, staring at Harry as he stood next to the entrance, a look in his eyes I couldn't quite recognise.

"I'm sorry for yesterday. For going away" I said quietly in the end, and he gave me a little shrug. It was hard to tell if he was just feigning carelessness, or if he truly didn't care about the fact that I'd left him alone. I wondered if he would've preferred me to stay. In a way, I would've preferred to stay for him, but I also knew I couldn't have made it to the end of the fight - considering how awful and extremely personal the things he'd been told were. I was grateful that Niall had stepped in and taken the choice away from me by telling me to go away.

Harry looked down at the floor for a couple of seconds before looking up again, not meeting my gaze. "It's fine, I would've done the same" he replied quietly, somehow realising from the hushed way I'd spoken that I didn't want anyone hearing us.

I nodded awkwardly, looking down as well, thinking of what I could've said next. If I had to be honest, there were a thousand things I wanted to ask, but I knew it wouldn't have been appropriate to ask the majority of them in that moment. "How..." I started, but I stopped right away, thinking that it wouldn't have been a good idea to ask him something like that. I glanced at him, he was staring at the floor again, seeming even less interested than usual in making any kind of conversation. I shook my head. We were close enough for me to ask, weren't we? I thought we were, at least. And I was supposed to ask anyway, wasn't I? Considering that it had all started while I was there, too. "How did it end?" I dared to ask.

His head shot up as soon as the question came out of my mouth. He observed me for a long second, before replying. "He wants to kick me out" he said faintly, his gaze drifting to the wall behind me.

My eyes widened as I took in what he'd said. "I'm sorry" I replied, not quite knowing what to reply to something like that. I hardly had had any friends in the past, so I had never been in a situation that could even come close to that - which also meant that I had no idea of what I could've said to reassure him.

He glanced at the side. "They don't trust me" he said quietly, the tone of his voice showing that he wasn't as indifferent to it as he would've preferred to be.

"I'm sorry" I replied, starting to hate the way I was repeating myself. I looked down, scratching the surface of the counter, pretending to be busy with something to get rid of the slight awkwardness of the moment. Maybe it hadn't been such a bright idea to tell him we could've skipped and stayed at mine instead. At school there would've been Zayn, and he probably would've been a thousand times better than me at comforting him. I was doing a pretty shitty job, I could tell by the harshness of Harry's grip on the table. At that point, I was starting to worry that his fingers would've hurt when he would've let go of it.

He looked up at me. "Do you trust me?"

"Uh" I started, halting right away as soon as I realised that that probably wasn't the best way to start the reply. I looked to the side, trying my best to avoid the gaze that I was quite sure was burning through me at that point. "I... I don't know" I replied, at the same time knowing that wasn't the reply he was looking for, but that it would've been better to say the truth. I knew he hated being lied to, so I had no intention of doing that - even though it probably would've been better if I had.

"What do you mean?" He asked, the tone of his voice almost accusatory. I knew he hadn't expected me to say something like that at all.

I wished I could've said I did indeed trust him, but taking into consideration everything that had happened in the past few months, it just wasn't as easy as I would've liked it to be. "It's just... considering everything... it doesn't seem so impossible for it to be yours" I replied, slowly glancing at him to see a flash of disappointment rush through his green irises, disappearing as fast as it'd come. "That's all" I added, trying to lessen the weight of my previous words at best.

"Do you think I'm a drug addict?" He asked quietly, lowering his voice towards the end of the sentence, his tone completely emotionless. He left his gaze on me just until the end of the sentence, immediately turning to look at the floor as he waited for my reply.

"I didn't say that" I replied quickly, trying to righten the meaning of my previous answer. That wasn't what I meant, and I didn't want him to think it was. I knew how much he needed someone by his side in that moment, that would believe him, it was clear from the fact that he'd asked me about that, and I hated that I couldn't be that person. I didn't firmly believe it was his, but I also didn't firmly believe it wasn't. Knowing him, both were equally possible, and it didn't make anything easier. "I meant, I don't know if it's yours or not. That's just it" I added in the end, hoping that it would help him to see it from my point of view.

"I get it" he replied quietly, the tension leaving his voice, sounding as if he was just tired at that point. "At least you aren't kicking me out of your house."

I stared up at him in the second the last comment left his mouth, feeling like saying something, but not knowing what I could've said that would've been at least the tiniest bit helpful.

I widened my eyes when all of sudden I heard the sound of steps coming down the stairs, my heart starting to beat faster when I realised my mother was seconds away from entering the kitchen - and finding out that I most definitely wasn't at school.

"Sierra?" My mum asked in the second she entered the room, her eyes darting from Harry, that was still leaning against the table, to me, frozen in my place next to the counter. "What are you doing still here?"

I glanced at Harry, hoping that he would swoop in and come up with something, but when he stayed quiet I realised that was on me. "It's... Harry isn't feeling well, so I suggested we could skip instead" I said, hoping that it would've been enough for her not to get mad.

"Oh darling, are you feeling sick?" She asked, inadvertently taking a step forward.

"Not what I meant, mum" I stepped in, knowing that, despite how tired and tensed up he looked, Harry couldn't have managed to pull that one off.

She straightened her back. "Oh. My bad" she simply replied. "Are you having trouble with your girlfriend?"

I widened my eyes at her words. "Mum, not that" I replied quickly, trying to save the situation from the inevitable demise it was falling in. I gave a fast glance at Harry, discovering that he was looking at her as well, a hint of curiosity in his green eyes, without seeming annoyed with the awkward conversation we'd stumbled on.

"Oh wait, isn't he the one you went out with?" She said, successfully managing to surprise me.

"Mum!" I chocked out, feeling as if that conversation was starting to become more than inappropriate. Surely Harry didn't feel like discussing our... situation while he had to worry about the possibility of the people he lived with to kick him out of his house.

She shrugged. "Sorry" she said, the tone of her voice showing how little she actually cared, before going back to focusing her attention on Harry. "Are you having troubles with your family?" She asked, the deep silence that followed being enough to tell her that it was indeed that one. "Oh" she said quickly, glancing from Harry to me, and then back to Harry again. "Whatever it is, don't worry. They're your parents, and they love you very much."

I stared at her for a good five seconds, trying to understand if she really had just said something like that. "We'll just... we'll go upstairs if that's alright?" I said, already starting to walk towards the door.

"Not so fast, Sierra" she said, making me freeze.

I slowly turned around, meeting the glance Harry gave me as he pushed himself off the table, crossing the room to reach me. "Yeah?" I asked nervously, wishing that she'd just left it for when we were alone.

She checked her bag as she did every morning, making sure she had everything she needed. "Just this once" she said, the tone of her voice serious, letting me know how much she truly meant it.

"Sure" I replied, thankful that she'd let it go without arguing - or at least, without arguing in front of Harry, the day wasn't over yet. "Bye" I added, following her with my gaze as she went to get her coat.

"Good. Bye" she replied, and I took it as my chance to go away.

I exited the room with Harry next to me and walked up the stairs, slowly peeking through the door of my room to make sure everything was fine inside before opening it wide, allowing Harry to walk in.

I sat on the bed, crossing my legs and watching him as he leaned against the radiator. "You can talk about it, if you want" I said softly. I probably wasn't great at giving advice, but that didn't mean I couldn't have listened to him if he needed to talk.

He shrugged, looking up at the wall on the opposite side of the room. He passed his finger over the side of the radiator, not keeping it there long enough to burn himself, pursing his lips, seeming to be lost in his thoughts. "I wish my parents were still here" he muttered in the end, right when I'd come to terms with the fact that he wouldn't have opened his mouth. "None of this would've happened if they were."

I stared at the floor, trying to avoid the sudden intimacy of the situation, not knowing what to tell him that he hadn't already heard a thousand times. "I'm sure you'll find a way to figure it out" I said in the end, referring to the mess with Niall's parents, feeling as if it was more circumstantial than factual.

I looked up when I felt the bed dip, discovering that Harry had sat next to me. "I feel trapped, Sierra" he said quietly. "Everyone keeps throwing my past mistakes back in my face. I feel like I'm in a circle I can't get out of."

I looked to the side, assimilating his words, knowing in the second they'd come out of his lips that I wouldn't have found something to tell him. I put my hand on his, that was on the duvet, instead, squeezing it lightly and hoping that it would've been enough to let him know everything I needed him to know.

He stayed quiet, staring at the floor, for a couple of seconds, before suddenly talking. "Fuck" he hissed, standing up all of sudden, his hand easily slipping out of mine. "I'm going" he commented quickly, his shoes already on.

I managed to catch him before he left the room. He turned to glance at me, a dull hint of aggressiveness in his eyes, in the second he felt my fingers wrap around his wrist. "Don't" I said fast. "We both know where you'll go if you leave now" I added, specifying the reason behind my actions. "Please don't do that to yourself" I said as the images of him falling to the floor, unable to breathe, in front of a fallen punching bag case back to my mind.

He gave me an attentive stare, as if he was trying to decide if he should've just ignored my words and go his own way, or listened to me and stayed. He sighed, sitting back down on the comfortable mattress of my bed. "Fucking hell" he said quietly as he took off his boots, the words only reaching my ears because of the silence in the room. "Fuck!" He hissed, kicking one of the boots and sending it flying across the room, until it crashed against the front of my white couch, somehow managing not to stain it. "Sorry. Fuck" he hissed, distress clear in his voice, before hunching over, putting his elbows on his knees and hiding his face in his hands as he continued to quietly spit profanities to himself.

I widened my eyes, surprised by his behaviour. He'd never acted like that before, and even though I didn't know if he was particularly stressed or if he was just showing me what he truly felt like for once, it was clear to me that that situation was taking a toll on him. I put my hand on his back, hesitating a bit before leaning down in a position similar to his so that I could wrap my arm around his shoulders.

I was surprised when he pushed himself against me, putting his head on my shoulder and allowing me to hug him properly. We stayed in that position for a couple of minutes, before Harry pushed us down in a lying position, our heads on the pillow.

"Sierra?" He asked quietly, propping himself up on one elbow.

I turned to look at him, letting him know he had my attention, even though it seemed quite useless considering it was kind of a given, silently waiting for him to continue.

He let his gaze drift to the wall next to me, his tongue wetting his lips quickly before he pursed them, before looking back at me. "Please distract me" he said quietly in the end.

"How?" I asked, a hint of nervousness in my voice at the peculiar request. He surely wouldn't have answered with anything inappropriate, would he? I was pretty sure he wouldn't have, but I couldn't help thinking that maybe - just maybe - he would've, which made me a little more nervous than I would've liked to admit.

He gave me a little shrug, passing his fingers through his dark curls to brush them back. "Talk to me."

I nodded, not being able to help the relief I felt as soon as he spoke. "About what?" I asked him. I wasn't the kind of person that could just go ahead and ramble about random things at any second. If he wanted me to talk, he would've needed to give me a topic, because I wouldn't have chosen it on my own for sure.

"Tell me about your dad" he asked quietly, inadvertently starting to play with the cross necklace that was hanging from his neck.

"What about him?" I asked back, turning my head to glance at the ceiling above us.

He bit his lower lip, a thoughtful look on his face. "Have you always known he wasn't your real dad?" He ended up asking, putting his cross necklace back under his black shirt.

I nodded. "They never saw a point in hiding it, they knew I would've eventually found out anyway, so it just seemed pointless not to tell me I guess. He is my dad to me, anyway" I stopped talking, glancing at him as I suddenly understood why he'd asked that. "It's not the same thing, Harry" I said softly, not wanting him to relate his situation to mine and feel bad for not seeing Niall's parents as his own parents.

"I know" he said faintly with a little nod. "Where's your real dad?"

I puckered my lips as I thought about it. "He left when I was one, I guess" I said, not feeling any particular emotion despite the weight of the words. He'd always been a stranger to me more than anything else, so I didn't feel upset or anything while talking about him. He'd never truly been there for me anyway, and I knew nothing about him if not his name, so what was the point in feeling bad because such a ghost had left? I wondered if it was normal to feel like that.

He lay back down next to me, putting his head on my pillow as well, his arm brushing mine. "Do you ever get mad at him?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Not really. I guess he should've been part of my life at some point for me to get mad at him, you know? Besides, he didn't just leave. Like, it wasn't his fault for leaving."

Harry turned his head, glancing at me. "What do you mean?"

"Uh..." I said, trying to decide if I should've shared or not. "They were both eighteen, didn't have much figured out. Things got worse when I came around, my mother did... something and he found out, so he left" I summed up, deciding to leave out all the details.

"She cheated, didn't she?" He asked quietly, making my head snap in his direction. "It's fine, I'm not in the position to judge anyone anyway" he said, letting out a little sarcastic laugh.

"Yeah" I said, turning to look at the ceiling again.

"I get mad at my dad sometimes" he said after a while, making me turn my head towards him again in surprise. He'd never mentioned his dad explicitly before, to the point that I'd assumed he just wasn't in the picture.

"Did he leave?" I asked him, a hint of curiosity in my voice.

He sat up at the question, staring out of the window, a darkened look in his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it" he said lowly.

I nodded, sitting up as well. "Alright."

I can't believe Artwork is almost at 750k! This is honestly so incredible, thank you so much!

I hope you liked this chapter! x

Miki

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