Flat 51

“HARRY!!!” The echoes of my strangled screech rang through my open door and into the halls of the big house, and instantly I heard several sets of footsteps charging to my room. I sat up, fisting the sheets in my trembling hands.

My heart pounded through my ears. Terror shot into my mind. Harry hated me. He used me. I got hit by a car. I must be dead. Or did I? Why were those memories so foggy? What happened to me?

“Emily!” See, his voice was still stuck with me. “Emily! Are you ok?” No, I’m not fucking ok. Thanks for asking. That’s what I wanted to say, at least. But my mouth wouldn’t cooperate. My throat felt restricted. My lungs were starving. Am I dead, or am I dying?

A pair of warm hands wrapped around my arms and shook me gently, when suddenly I was able to focus my blurry vision. Oh look, it’s Harry. Is he dead too? The hands moved, rubbing my arms and touching my face.

“Emily, look at me! Please?” Finally my mind snapped out of this waking sleepy-state I was trapped in and I was in control.

“H-Harry?” I sobbed, reaching out for him. He awkwardly hugged me, but it was worth more than any other hug I’d ever had. His body was warm, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Shit, um, what happened?” he asked. I wiped my eyes and sat back.

“Y-You don’t hate me?” I needed to make sure. I still wanted him. I felt some strange memory surface about saying ‘love’, but no… I don’t think I was quite there yet. But I did want him here, now. I wanted him to hold me.

“No, of course I don’t fucking hate you, Emily. That’s a stupid idea. What the hell happened?” And as much as that would have hurt coming from someone else, it made me smile. Harry didn’t hate me. We didn’t make all those mistakes.

“I-I dreamed that… No, never mind. It’s not important.”

“Emily, tell me. It’s good for you to get it off your chest.” He thought I missed the flickering of his eyes over my t-shirt clad torso, but I didn’t. And despite my dream, I felt oddly comforted by this. He wouldn’t have done that if we’d made all those mistakes.

“I… I had a nightmare… I dreamed that, um, that you tried to-to use me.” His eyes widened and he sat back even further, locking his gaze on his nervously working fingers. “And then we fought, and I… you called me…” I trailed off. This was embarrassing. I didn’t want to talk about it.

“I called you… what?”

“A bitch, and then I ran away, and then… and then there a car, and then…” I began to cry again. Not as hard as before, but I was crying none the less. It was also then that I noticed the tall figure in the corner. Oh, shit. I panicked and pulled far away from Harry, wiping my tears. What would he think of me now?

“Emily, you showered in my room, and we talked on the phone. You were lost. I came to find you, but you’d tripped in the bathroom and whacked you head. You were out cold, and you’ve been asleep since. Dammit, you had me worried sick. It’s… Lou, what time is it?”

“It’s six. Supper’s almost ready.” With that he left, and I swear I heard him jogging away.

“Wait…” I hesitated. They found my after a shower?

“You were already dressed. You had my shirt and boxers on.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have let that bother me so much. Now I looked like a fragile teenager with a broken ankle. “I’m sorry. This is stupid. I just panicked, that’s all.I’m sorry.” His deep, confusion filled green eyes softened into kindness, sending butterflies through my heart. Yep, I definitely still wanted him.

“It’s ok. Bad dreams can really screw up your emotions. I would know.” I was about to ask him what he meant by that, but he was already strapping my boot on and handing me my crutches.

Notes

So... crazy turn of events? I hope so. Let's see what happens now. I think Emily is more turned on to him than ever, she just won't let herself go that far.

In spite of the drop in my rating, Thank you all so much for being here! It means a ton!

Em XO