Harry's normal florid cheeks were nearly white, just as much as his knuckles resting on the steering wheel. His whole face was missing of his normal spark, his lips shut into a tough line, expressing no emotion.
"Nothing," he said releasing my arm from his grip.
"Well something must've—"
I stopped when I saw him widening the door open and jumping out of the car without looking back.
I quickly followed him behind the stairs. His long legs already brought him halfway through the second floor while I was struggling to keep up with him.
I was short of breath when I finally reached the third floor and leaned on the wall to catch my breath as I glimpsed Harry outside my door.
My eyes were beginning to burn and itch due to the my not custom of using contacts. I used to wear them when I was in high school for sports, stopping shortly before moving for college, not having any reason to wear them, not able to practice any sport anymore.
I walked towards my door, Harry stepping to the side to let me open it.
"I got into a fight," he said as I inserted the key.
His voice made me jump. It was rough, empty.
Not happy, not mad.
"How come?"
He followed me inside as I made my way to the bathroom, not even expecting for an answer I knew it wouldn't come.
I took off my contacts, putting back on my beloved glasses. When I exited the bathroom, I found him seated on the couch with my violin in his hands, studying it closely.
"Do you know any of Paganini's composition?" He asked when I sat as well, keeping a certain distance.
"Of course," I said. "You know, he was from my city."
"No way. You're from Genova?"
His knowledge always surprised me. He was literally the only one who knew Paganini besides the violinists from the school. Even more, he knew where he's from.
I frantically nodded, amazed.
"Cool. Can you play something?"
I nodded again as he handed the instrument to me. I took one of the bows from the carrying case, picked the violin up by its neck with my left hand and brought the butt of the instrument up to my neck. Resting the lower back of the violin on my collar bone and holding it in place with my jaw, I began to play open strings as a little exercise before actually playing the real composition.
My fingers stopped to move fast through the instrumented as soon as I realized that it must have been midnight, and we had neighbors.
"Caprice number 24," he said closing his eyes. "Why'd you stop?"
"Well, even though I've never met any neighbor other than you, I guess someone else live in this building and wants to sleep at this time."
"Good point."
His eye was swelling each minute that passed, but I didn't know what to do. I had no background in medicine whatsoever, as I grew to despise everything connected with blood and hospitals.
"Do you have an emergency kit at yours?" I asked worriedly.
"I do," he furrowed his brow. "You don't?"
"Nope." I shook my head. "You should put something on your eye. It looks bad."
"In one week it'll be like new," he waived my suggestion off. "You should get an emergency kit."
"Never had one. Just some pain killers and other medicines for me." I said shortly, not wanting to add more.
"How come?" He asked. Shrugging, I looked past him.
I remained silent, his question suspending in the air as I didn't have any intention in answering.
Two people could play his game.
"Alright then," he sighed. "I got into a fight."
"I get mad very easily," he added when I said nothing.
"Thank you for telling me," I said. "But I won't tell you my reason now."
"Oh, c'mon." Harry complained as I laughed. "Tell me at least what medicines you take?"
"Acetaminophen."
"Acetaminophen," he whispered thinking about the analgesic. "You shouldn't be drinking alcohol if you're under that." How the hell did he know what was the medicine for, it amazed me.
"I did not drink."
I didn't know how anyone else managed to realized what an actual genius Harry was. He knew things that no human was aware of, remembered even the smallest detail that others wouldn't even care to let them sink in for more than one minute, he listened to you like you were the only person alive in the world at the moment.
"Still. I hope you're not under it right now." He spoke lowly.
"I am not," I said. "I take it three times a week, or whenever I feel pain."
"Why?"
"Why did you get into a fight?" I challenged him.
"What is this? Twenty questions?" Harry rolled his eyes at my question, visibly irritated at my change of subject.
He shifted on the couch to have a better sight of me. "Why do you wear glasses?"
"Because I'm like, almost blind?" I laughed as Harry quickly joined me.
My myopia was so strong that I had to wear glasses every moment of the day in order to recognize people on the street, or even look for a book inside my bag. I was totally lost without them.
"Well, you're beautiful with them," he said as my cheeks heated up at his words.
He was the first man, besides my father to tell me that I was beautiful, even if he didn't mean it, it still felt good to hear it from Harry. My heart, which was already at an uneven pace whenever he was present, began to ferociously beat against my rib cage, wanting to run off of my body.
"So you're saying I'm not beautiful without them?" I joked.
"N-no I meant—" He started stuttering.
"I was just kidding, Harry." I said reassuring him with a smile.
"You're an annoying ass sometimes, you know."
"Well you're annoying all the time."
"How sassy," he said rolling his eyes. "I don't know about you, but I could sleep here on the floor right now." He stood up from the couch stretching his arms above his head.
"Why you avoided me the whole week?" I snapped as he reached the doorknob.
He suddenly stopped, his back facing me. I could hear his breath quickening as he made no effort on facing me.
"Cause I'm no good for you," and with that, Harry hatched the door, sneaking out.
—
It was almost three when I heard a loud knock reverberate off the apartment.
I rose up from my bed, pondering on who could have been. My thoughts all went to Zara, considering she was my only friend. She was used to return to our dorm at around that time, on Saturdays, being too exhausted from the day before, when she would party her head off all night and morning long. I don't know how she could handle it. How she would never get tired of the same routine of getting drunk, make out with some random guy, then repeat; and still not failing any classes.
My mind proved me wrong as standing on the threshold, was Harry.
He was wearing a plaid white shirt where I could glimpse his numerous tattoos up to his torso and forearms.
I've always disliked tattoos, never liked people with tattoos, thought they were useless and destroyers of your skin once older.
But Harry made everything look different. He made tattoos look so graceful and yet masculine. A combination I never imagined could be achievable.
"Yeah?" I whispered, not fully awake.
"Sorry for running off like that earlier."
"Harry, you woke me up at three am to tell me this?" If I did have the strength to punch him, I think I probably would have done it; but my body was still deeply asleep as I tiredly spoke.
"Can I—umh...can I stay over? I can't sleep at mine." He murmured scratching the back of his neck.
Stepping aside so he could enter, Harry closed the door turning the key already plugged in the lock.
"You can sleep on my bed, I'll be on the couch," I said motioning him my bedroom at the end of the hallway.
"Don't be silly, I'll get the couch." Shaking his head, he quickly moved.
I tried to protest but Harry didn't want to listen any reason as I grabbed an extra blanket and handed it over to him and muttered a "thank you," in return, catching the soft material in his hands.
"Goodnight Connie," He whispered and walked towards the couch.
Despite the sleepy mood I was in, I couldn't find myself to shut my eyes and actually sleep as I rolled over onto my bed once more and got up stretching out my legs.
I softly opened my bedroom door and with the tip of my toes to not wake the boy sleeping on my couch, I reached counter in the kitchen, taking a glass and filling it with water.
"Hey," A pulpy voice made me jump as I let drop the glass of water into the sink with an utter sound in surprise.
"Jesus," I croaked under my breath.
"Nope, it's Harry," He said sarcastically as I rolled my eyes at his reply.
"Why you're awake?" I asked leaning my elbows to the counter.
"Couldn't sleep," he said. "You?"
"I was thirsty," I lied shrugging.
An heavy silent fell in the room, as the both of us didn't know what to add.
"Well," I sighed. "I'm going back to sleep."
Harry's gaze was fixed on the ground as he imperceptibly nodded at my statement. I walked past him and he didn't lift up his head, like he didn't want to show his wrecked face to me anymore.
It wasn't long after closing the door, and climbing into the bed once more, that I heard the crack of the thin door opening, and Harry's face timidly peeking in.
"Come in," I whispered, not sure if he caught it.
The scarce light that was coming in from the window, wasn't enough for me to capture all his features as he slowly stepped closer to the bed.
Sitting still, I covered my legs with the velvety sheets and looked up at his figure, which was nearer than I expected.
"Couldn't sleep," he announced, his voice dry. "Can I sleep with you? I m-mean not like that, just sleep here with you. I won't try anything." He snapped. Even though I was not able to scan his expression, I could perceive that he was nervous as he was stumbling, talking faster than I ever heard him.
"Sure," I said suppressing a giggle as best as I could, as I shifted my body to the wall, giving him space to lay down next to me.
As he laid, I could sense the mattress moving due to the new weight it had to support. Harry quickly pulled the sheets under him silently searching for the perfect position to sleep on.
I knew instantly that I wouldn't have been able to sleep a minute that night, his warm body so close to me, yet so far away, his steady breaths as he was falling asleep, was making me nuts.
One hour went by, as I my mind and my eyes were too occupied in staring at the beautiful man who eventually fell asleep a few inches apart from me, facing the back to me.
Or, at least, I thought he was asleep.
"It was my father," he whispered suddenly through the dark.
***
I'm so sorry, I had some problem on posting this chapter as I firstly saved it as a draft and couldn't seem to publish it.
Hope you like it!
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