home sweet home clothing

i’m in my prime,
not withering and old.
but i refuse to play
your wicked games any longer.

i know this tether is unbreakable,
but you make me feel like i’m interchangeable.
you drew a target on my heart,
when did this become fatal attraction?

i don’t have the strength,
the energy,
nor the patience
to be held hostage by your love.

so baby please don’t despair
when i say that
i’ve found the courage to
let you go.

you were never meant to be tied down in the first place.

—  believing i could love you was my mistake, c.j.n.
Home sweet home

Lugging around your clothes for weeks, even months on end started to become a constant thing for you, walking through different airports every few days, driving through several towns in one night, constantly trying to fit everything back into the suitcase at many different hours was something you’d gotten used to. Well, so you made yourself believe. You sigh once more as you struggle to zip the suitcase up as its on the bed. “Do you want help?” Harry advances as he stands guard while you struggle, you shake your head- determined to do it yourself. You huff as you climb on the bed, climbing on the suitcase, trying to force the zip. After moments of trying and letting a few cuss words slip your lips, you give up and stand back up to your feet. As if right on queue Harry rolls his eyes and takes control of the situation, promptly placing the suitcase on the floor and zipping it up as if it was no struggle. “I thought you’d know by now that trying to force it closed on a bed isn’t helpful.” He chimes, as you grab your bag and pull it up your shoulder.
“Whatever.” You mumble, dragging your suitcase out the hotel door, sighing as you stand in the middle of the hallway, awaiting Harry to exit the room with the rest of the stuff. “Did you get the tickets?” He questions, closing the hotel room door, focusing his attention on you, awaiting an answer.
“They’re in my handbag, did you make sure to get the date right this time?” You question, referencing last nights debacle when he was in charge of departures and you both were trying to check into a flight unexpectedly twenty-four hours early. “I’m sorry I thought our flight was yesterday, I got my dates messed up.” He mutters as you both tug your things along, making your way to the elevator. “When’s the flight?” You ask, wanting to make sure he’s got everything right this time round. “The flight leaves at eleven, yes you can have the window sleep so you can sleep since it’s a night flight.” He sighs tediously as the elevator doors open. The quietness in the elevators at hotels are sometimes the closest thing to peacefulness you receive for hours on end. Once hitting airports and runways, peacefulness is not something either of you come across until you reach the next hotel room, and sometimes that takes over twenty-four hours. The elevator doors open and you’re exposed to the spacious hotel lobby that is motionless. In twelve hours this lobby will be filled with new guests eager to get to a room and relax after a long flight or drive. The sparse walk over the bridge to the airport is enough to make you want to complain to your boyfriend, but you keep it to yourself knowing he’s just as irritated and overfatigued as what you are, if not more. “Next time we are using one suitcase.” He mutters, “and if everything doesn’t fit then too bad.” He adds, huffing as he pulls a suitcase and carries the duffel bag. You chuckle composedly, finding it slightly cute that he’s agitated for no apparent reason besides the fact he’s pulling a suitcase. “Do you want me to take the bag?” You propose, feeling a little guilty considering it is mainly your items in the duffle bag.
“No, I’ve got it.” He shakes his head as you both step through the large glass doors of the airport. You both gaze at the departures board and a heavy huff escapes your lips.
“It’s bloody canceled.” You grouch mirthlessly, beginning to lose your patience with everything. “Damnit.” You heave a sigh, keeping your voice low, mindful of the people around you. Harry bites his lip before turning towards you, “what do you want to do?” He asks and you look up at him, unaware of what you actually want to do, part of you wants to curl up in a ball with a fluffy blanket and eat ice cream. “I want to sleep in my own bed and wake up in our apartment instead of a hotel room.” You murmur, looking back up at the departures board, hoping your flight will abruptly become available again. “You’re sick of it, aren’t you?” He gently asks,
“What?” You question, unsure of what he’s referring too.
“The traveling, you want to go home.” He sighs, causing you to look down at your feet. Of course you’re sick of it, it’s all you’ve both done for three months, travelling to the places he’s scheduled to visit, promoting himself, and doing interviews. “It’s okay, I rather stay with you.” You softly announce, putting aside the struggles of living from a suitcase and never staying longer the forty-eight hours at a location. “We can get the flight that is in six hours it’s a connecting flight, so what do you want to do until then?” You wearily ask, taking note that you can’t board a plane now until three in the morning and that’s if they have seats left. He shrugs, just as tired and clueless as what you are as you both stare up at the board that updates every few minutes. “There’s a flight leaving to Chicago in an hour, wanna get on it?” He questions with a serious face,
“Why Chicago?” You curiously ask, unaware of why he mentioned Chicago when there are many places listed on the board.
“You said you wanted to go to Chicago the other night, so let’s go.” He encourages, making you laugh.
“You have a press conference in forty-eight hours in New York, no.” You shake your head, reading the next set of flights, “there’s a flight for us leaving at six in the morning and it’s a direct flight,” you point out, beginning to wish you were in a bed, even a hotel bed would be fine. “Mhm, can you go find me a coffee while I check the bags in?” He affectionately requests and you pass off your suitcase to him, walking away to find the coffee shop in the airport. Of course it isn’t too hard to find, once you find the typical airport shops that contain the typical tourist items, you’ll swiftly find the perfectly brewed coffee and expensive fast food.

With a warm coffee in your hand, you stand in front of Harry as he glances down at his phone. “Three sugars, just how you like it.” You smile, handing him the coffee, he gives you a soft smile as he clasps it within his hand, “thank you, smells good.” He announces cheerfully and you give him a wearied nod. “Sleepy, huh?” He queries, seeming rather joyful considering the fact the flight was delayed and you’re both stuck in the airport until three in the morning or possibly later depending which flight he decided to get you both on. “Very, I don’t know how you do it.” You shake your head, amazed by how well he handles the constant flying and lack of sleep.
“The coffee helps and I’ve been doing this for years.” He responds, placing an arm around you. “But, we won’t have to do it much longer.” He gladly discloses,
“Yeah, we only have six more weeks.” You sigh, the next six weeks are going to drag on and on. “Eh, not exactly. We’re going home.” He responds and you shake your head,
“It’s not nice to tease people like that.” You mutter, a little irritated he would joke about such a thing,
“I’m serious, our flight is departing in two hours, heading straight home.” He explains, handing you the two tickets, “see.” He merrily smiles, catching you off guard,
“Wait, what about your schedule?” You instantaneously ask, not wanting to have to spend the next six weeks apart. “I’m cancelling it. Don’t worry about it.” He softly states, taking a sip of the coffee you gave him. “You do want to go home, right?” He questions and you nod your head. Of course you want to go home, but not at the expense of his job. “Good, we are going and we will be back in our apartment where we can sleep all day and have breakfast at six in the evening, and we do whatever the hell we want.” He joyously announces, a smile forming on your face.
“Aw, that sounds amazing.” You breathe a breath of relief, the thought of finally being in your own bed seems so magnificent.
“Mhm, if I’m feeling nice I might even wake up and make you you’re favourite breakfast.” He enlightens you, causing you to smirk,
“Double chocolate pancakes?” You ask, watching as he nods. “Mmm, and maybe if I’m feeling nice you’ll get a proper thank you.” You whisper, only teasing him a little. He lays his eyes on you, his eyes looking with a wide-eyed gaze at you and probably inappropriately undressing you.
“It’s not nice to tease me like that, especially when we haven’t joined the mile high club yet.” He utters in a low voice, “I heard there’s a special promotion to join the club.” He adds, causing you to chuckle.
“As great as that sounds, I’ll have to decline, promotional ads are not my thing.” You mischievously respond, watching as he pouts his lips. “Sorry ‘bout your luck, you’ll have to wait until I get my pancakes.” You add, kissing his cheek as he lets out a sigh.
“This flight can’t happen quick enough.” He mumbles, bringing you close into his embrace. You glance up into his loving eyes resisting his captivation. “Patience my love, patience.” You whisper, pecking his lips a few times before breaking the embrace and lacing your fingers with his. “Let’s go to the terminal.” You gesture, gently pulling him along ready to get back home.