Platonic [H.S] (Book 1)

28 | Tell Me This

By the time Harry and I had sorted through all the issues from the fight and officially made amends, it was early in the night. But we were both so emotionally drained from it all and Harry was also exhausted from his flight over, that we headed straight up to bed without giving anything else much thought. I allowed Harry to drag me to his bedroom and into his bed where we fell asleep clinging onto each other for dear life. It was the best I had slept in over two weeks.

If it weren't for Harry sleeping peacefully beside me when I woke up this morning, I would have been convinced it was all just a dream. I still cannot believe that he flew all the way back home from The States just to meet me in person to talk through and put what happened behind us, especially since he only has three days off between shows. I'm grateful that he did though. I can see the level of fatigue across his face, but he will always try to act as though he isn't on the brink of exhaustion around me.

When I caught sight of him yesterday afternoon it was clear that he was just as cut up as I was about our fight. I have seen Harry exhausted before but this was something else entirely. We were both as ill over it as the other and words will never be able to express my gratitude for our friendship being back on track. It almost feels like the fight didn't occur, but I don't think it will be easily forgotten by either of us anytime soon.

I will not quite easily be forgetting Harry talking so openly and honestly with me about his anger. I'm proud of him for acknowledging it and that he's doing something about it, incorporating boxing into his workout routine with Mark. Now that I am aware of it, I am having trouble coming to terms with not noticing it in the past. How could I have missed something like this, what kind of a friend does that make me?

Just when I am convinced I know everything there is to know about Harry, something new comes to light which either surprises me or concerns me.

While leaving Harry upstairs to sleep, I came downstairs to make breakfast for the both of us. Making breakfast seemed like the least I could do for him after the grand gesture he made to get here, and he looked too at peace to disturb. Instead of our usual pancake breakfast when we're at home, I decided to go with eggs, bacon and toast. I also picked up a banana from the fruit bowl on the island and placed it down in front of Harry's plate, knowing they're his favourite, before backtracking into the kitchen to boil the kettle.