the journal - h.s.

72

[amber's pov]

“It’s half past two,” I murmured to Harry. With the guitar case on the ground, he tried leading his free hand through the impossible hair, which the wind played around with - just like what most probably dreamed of getting to do. His cheeks were flushed from the ice cold air and as the red Beetle finally made the corner he turned to me with those excited green eyes full of unspoken adventures.

“So what do you wanna do for the rest of the day?” His words were heartwarming as he let his thumb brush over my hand in the process. He pulled me closer to him with a foxy grin, until I was finally in his arms. I couldn’t stop smiling at the feeling of deja-vu those words gave me.

“Practice epic comebacks to Louis’ outstanding jokes maybe?” My crooked smile was not to defeat and Harry perfectly well knew that, as he rolled his eyes at me while not able to hold back the amused grin.

“Never let him know you’ve said that though - God I’m so sorry about him. I seriously told him to keep his sassy mouth shut before we came up from practice - but I think the … situation was too much for him to keep it in any longer honestly,” he shook his head slightly and I caught sight of something in his eyes - wild worry sneaking in like a snake in paradise though he tried to control it.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” I led a hand through my hair too as it was flying wildly around, “I love he’s just being him actually. I don’t mind.”

Harry chuckled with a struggled countenance, “yeah he can just be a little too much at times though. Like I don’t mind either but I don’t know I guess if you don’t really know him and all and just -”

Grinning softly at his worried tone, I cut him off mid sentence. “Louis is not going to scare me off, okay?” I tiptoed and gave him a light kiss, on his lips was the taste of tobacco from the smoke he had shared with Louis while waiting by the car.

“Okay,” I saw how along with those words his eyes came at peace again. It was so little that could put him off like that. Maybe he was worried because here we were again - outside my place like that first time he had kissed me. But right now there was no rain, no darkness to make everything blurry. Instead the wind kept pushing us closer, searching for some warmth and comfort. Whispering propheties of a cold winter and reasons to stay inside.

I definitely felt it. Deja-vu. How chills ran up my spine at the memory of last time - and the first time - he had come with me into my appartment. And how terribly wrong it had all gone.

Maybe that was why we were still standing out here in the brisk wind, which whipped heat into our cheeks and played ruthlessly with our hair.

But his green eyes remained so very still, so very peaceful, the eye of the hurricane, and my unquestionable safe haven. The wind couldn’t change that as much as it tried; it couldn’t blow away the so very loving gaze or the playfully flirtatious ideas and promises he hid there.

And it was those eyes of the boy I had fallen so terribly and scaringly for, which made me feel the blissful ignorance that gave no promise for tomorrow - but God how wonderful it could be when you lived moment for moment like this.

“Come,” I spoke softly and gave my currently unsteady safe haven a tender smile. I pulled his hand gently, while the wind still undecided pulled us in every direction. Tore in our clothes and hair making it far too easy for a lost soul to be deceived into the hurricane of uncertainty. But he followed me as I led him to my front door as I had once before.

He stayed quiet as I held his wounded hand carefully and he followed me up the stairs. Even when I opened the door he didn’t utter a word. Just stayed quiet. Unusually quiet. Everything looked normal - perfectly normal but you could basically taste it in the air, feel it creep in under your skin; the memories. But his warm hand in mine was our guiding compass.