Keeps Me Up At Night
Harry woke up in a cold sweat.
He shot up from bed, propping himself up the mattress almost immediately once he finally got himself to wake up from the thought; the thought that was more than a nightmare to begin with.
He’s visibly breathing heavily, the thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead as he didn’t even bother to wipe it off, his focus concentrated on the rapid rising of his chest and on how he could dispose such images in his mind that won’t leave him.
“Please — please tell me you’re there.”
Harry mumbled under his breath, his head turning over to see your figure still laid beside him that just stirred, being woke up from the excessive movements he possessed from the sheer panic he had.
He’s trying to compose himself as the pit in his stomach won’t leave him instantly, trying to calm himself too that it’s getting too much, seeing for a moment that it’s 2 A.M. that made him realize how much it kept hin up, on how much he thought of it as he went to bed with it.
Harry turned to you, his fingers fiddling with the rings he kept on as the words to say are already on the tip of his tongue waiting to be said, knowing that he really isn’t clear in the tides as your voice is distant.
It’s from the yells from the fight awhile ago and he knows it. It’s from the tiredness within you that made him doubt why you aren’t even mad at him anymore since he thinks you’re so used to being let down.
It’s because of him and he knows it.
“S'nothing — go back to sleep, love.”
Harry thinks it’s pathetic of why he even said the words he did while ago, especially his recent statement that even you wouldn’t buy, a reason clearly prevailing that made you awake suddenly in the wee hours of morning.
It was only a tilt of your head that confirmed your thoughts, your eyes set on him softly as he felt his voice go little, his heart sinking as he thought of it more.
“Had the dream that you left.”
He corrected himself, seeing to it as more of a nightmare that made him glad he woke up before it even continued, looking at you as he awaited your reaction.
Harry wanted to observe every bit of what’s beside him; the one on his bed, the one inside his house, and the one that’s his home.
He’s looking at you whose mouth is slightly agape and whose figure is rested delicately against a pillow propped to the headboard, fazed by the happening.
And dear God, he isn’t kidding.
Harry’s afraid to lose you.
He watched you look down on the comforter that’s covering your lap, the lump on your throat being swallowed as a little sleepy smile appeared on your face that made his heart warm and the uneasiness in his chest being slowly lifted up.
He didn’t know how he got so lucky to deserve someone who’s sticked with him even if there were instances that made you feel on rock bottom, being there as someone he’d look up to in adoration.
They were two simple words that Harry heard but he was extremly comforted and gratified by it, letting his hand envelope yours that reached out to him in consolation.