It has been a month now since the accident. Nothing has changed except Harry's behaviour. A couple of weeks ago, he started spending the nights out and coming home impossibly drunk around three in the morning. I'd always welcome him at the front door, helping him walking to our bedroom and swallowing hardly few cups of fresh water. He never talked to me about it, even when I asked him , he'd change the subject. I chose to drop it, not wanting to push Harry any further. I learned from our short interaction that he's not the type of guys to open up easily about his problems, or feelings.
I was arranging the books I bought today for University when my mind goes back to think about Harry's behaviour lately. I subconsciously glance to our bedroom's wall clock and immediately gasp. It's five AM and Harry dosen't come home yet. I was too busy reading my new books that I forgot about him completely. I start to worry unconditionally. My way was made downstairs before I sit on the large couch waiting for the boy I share this house with. Minutes pass like years and he dosen't show up. I surprize some tears threatening to slide down my cheeks wich cause me to wonder about how much Harry means to me. That's when I hear a bang in the hall. I hurry to where I spotted the noise, knowing it was the person I’m hoping to see. Messy hair, heavy red eyes, sweat ; He looks miserable.He can’t walk straightly. I grab his arm, preventing him of bumping into the wall again. I wrap it around my shoulders and carefully guide Harry to bed. A strong suffocating smell of alcohol fills the room the moment we walked in. I find myself gently laying his tensed body on the bedcover and draping him in the warmth of the covers. After bringing Harry water to drink, in a desperate attempt to sober his drowning mind, I content myself with sitting in the other side of the bed, watching his moves and ready to help. I stare at him curiously when he turns his head to my direction, his eyes still red and puffy, and speaks hardly :
“Who are y..you ? ”
He’s too drunk than I thought.
“I’m your girlfriend. ” I reply.
“I don’t have a girlfriend. ” He says almost sure of himself.
My heart skips a beat. His words stub my chest violently, as if they were sharp knives. He must be unaware.No, he is unaware.. he is of course unaware ! My eyes widen when I realize I felt hurt when Harry denied our relation. I look down at him. He’s waiting for me to say something. My shaking lips part before quickly pout again, not sure what to tell him. I stay still, head bowing. When I hear a sound of movement, I automatically lift my eyes. Harry has covered his face with his hands, sighing nervously. I move closer to him, gently pulling up his black shirt. He immediately gives me a look of confusion. I smile warmly.’You should sleep’ I say. My hands trail down his upper part of body and unfasten the zip of his tight dark jeans to reveal white Calvin Klein boxers. Harry remains silent, watching me and bitting his lower lip. When I’m done undressing him, I take the clothes and put them in a basket then return to bed, preparing to sleep like everynight. I lay on my side whispering my usual ‘Good night’ and closing my eyes, while counting the hours I’m going to sleep. But a heavy breathing causes me to check on the person beside me. I find Harry staring to the ceiling, hot puffs of air are swiftly pushed out. He looks frustrated.
“Harry ? ” I weakly call, trying to get his attention.
He’s crumbling. There’s no doubt there is something bothering him, killing him inside wich he’s fighting so hard to handle but can’t. My hand reaches his chin, making it turns to my side gently. Harry looks surprized by my sudden action. Once he faces me, I ask :’What’s wrong ?’ my voice is relaxing. He remains silent, content with just staring at me . I feel his body trembling, I didn’t know what to do, so I hold him close. His head restes on my shoulder as I wrap my arms around his muscled torso. I notice his body relaxing under my touch. A feeling of possession and duty fills my soul thus I hold Harry so tight that I’m not sure if he can even breath, the only thing I care about right now is him, how to show him support, how to make him feel better. I catch my fingers playing with the soft curls as I witness Harry slowly closing his eyes, humming in satisfication. His calm state brings me happiness. I remember kissing his forehead before drifting into a heavy childish sleep.