Lone [MATURE HS]

Chapter 30.

They arrested Kennedy five days later. With all the evidence, it was clear as day to the authorities that this wasn't all in Harry's mind.

My mother is consistently checking on me. The slight scarring experience of it all left me a little unstable as well for Harry, but he copes knowing that someone as dangerous and maliciously disgusting to extremities I've never expected to ever see is locked up. I try my hardest to see it that way, although the cops are now investigating profusely who got the picture of me in my seminar class. The idea is that our stalker is gone, but for me it feels like nothing's been done yet.

Security has doubled since our report, and many of the officers are posted up around the campus. The stories haven't gotten out yet, which I hope is for the best. I wouldn't be able to show up to class with all those eyes on me at once. However, the idea of having just a single eerie pair on me qualifies as a worst case scenario exceptionally well.

"Is this the last box? We've gotten most of them loaded," I hear Harry behind me as I tape up a box full of my books. He walks towards the opposite side of the box. I simply nod and stand to my feet, legs numbed from the previous position.

My eyes gaze quickly at the emptied apartment, knowing I won't miss it at all. I sigh heavily and continue to somewhat hate it. The entire building, even the neighboring ones and the adjacent streets trigger a disgust inside of me. To think safety is a promise in a place you are the most vulnerable in proves to be a devastating human weakness.

I feel disgusted with myself and my surroundings, so much that I feel the bile in my throat, queasy, inducing vomiting to rid myself of the toxins. So much that it didn't take long for my mother to rapidly search for something else. And Harry was so readily available for every opportunity, reaching far to ensure our safety. But my main concern isn't even the security and the safety. It's how I'll get over the feeling of being watched.

Our new place is slightly bigger, an open space awaiting to be filled with my mother's cluttering habits. It's a one floor home, sufficient and cozy. My mother is not too happy about paying a mortgage, but her recent promotion should argue otherwise.

I set my bag down on the immaculate surface of the kitchen counter, yawning to myself. The furniture had been placed yesterday, though various boxes still remain unpacked and untouched. My legs take me to the couch, while Harry shuts the door behind me, locks it, and sets the box of my books down on my pile.

He carefully lies with me, settling between my legs and we soon become a mess of lazy limbs, his head lying on my chest and my legs comfortably wrapped around his torso. A heavy breath past his lips, strong arms wrapped around my middle back as much as he possibly can. The only one time I can peacefully shut my eyes is when he's around, making me feel less pursued by a quiet predator.

"The award ceremony is tonight," I suddenly mutter, aimlessly slipping my fingers through his hair. He grunts in response, not bothering to coherently form a sentenced response. "We should go.." I suggest quietly. "I mean, why not? We need to get out a little."

"I don't want to see Fin's face," he says then, voice low and his eyes shutting. "I don't think I can handle knowing I was supposed to be in his place. It's my fault that--"

"It's not. You didn't know he had your jersey. I didn't know what happened was happening. We just didn't know," I insist hastily, almost like a ridiculous chant I've been reciting to myself for reassurance.

Harry sighs again, lifting his head up to look over at me, tired pale green eyes softening. "You really want to go?" I shrug and he then insists, "I'll go if you want us to."