We drove in silence. Not the type of silence that is uncomfortable. The silence that is reassuring. I take comfort in knowing that we don't have to talk to each other to feel electricity. We just had to be in each other's presence.

"Harry...." I said nervously.

"Yes, love?" He turned to me.

"Do you feel butterflies when you're around me?" I said bravely. I was horrified of the possible things he could say.

" Well....." He paused."It depends on what kind of butterflies you are talking about. The type of butterflies I get when I look at you. Just knowing that you're mine is so ...." he searched for a word "comforting. Knowing that I get to wake up to you in the morning. Or the butterflies I get when I hug you. I get them with any physical contact with you. It's like you're my oxygen. If we were to go into space. We would be timeless. Our love would be infinite. All the stars, planets, or maybe even asteroids- he joked- couldn't measure how much I would hurt if my oxygen went away. Air without oxygen would be toxic. You bring out the good in me. You make me feel alive. Without my oxygen, how could I survive?" He smiled at me.

My heart swelled. A tear dripped from my eye without permission. I took his hand in mine. I kissed the top of it, taking in the lovely features of his strong, yet angelic hands.

"Love," He said lifting my head," Why are you crying?"

"I never thought that someone could love me."

He stopped the car, halting to a stop. He unbuckled his seatbelt and hopped out of his seat. I heard the impact of his feet hitting the street's pavement. He closed his door softly , not wanting to scare me. His beautiful figure walked around the front end of his Range Rover. The lights bounced off of his perfect body, in a way I would never forget. He reached for the handle of my door. He clicked it open and pulled me out of my seat easily. He set my small frame onto the ground. He lifted my chin, pinching it softly with his thumb and index finger.

"I'm gonna ask you a question. Be honest. Please," He looked into my eyes,"Do you cut?"

My heart stopped. I didn't want to admit it. I wasn't proud of it. I didn't answer. He lifted my arm and looked at me for reassurance. When I didn't move, he slid up my sleeve. He saw my scars, and looked so broken. I just wanted to wrap him in my small arms and run my hands through his curls, while whispering that everything will be okay.

*Harry's POV*

I slid up her sleeve. I held myself together as much as I could. I knew what I was gonna see. I saw them one night when she was sleeping. I didn't want to press it. I saw her scars. I raised her arm to my mouth. I kissed each individual scar. Giving her arm my undivided affection.

"Harry, please stop." She said sobbing. I could see the broken girl from the inside, trying to keep herself hidden.

"Why?" I said softly. Sadness was turning into anger. I was done with the lies. I wanted to know how she felt. Why she would do this to herself.

She laughed brokenly, "I don't need your pity. Nor do I need to explain anything."

I was trying to contain my aggravation. I dropped her arm, and walked away. I let her get in on her own. I was done. Yea, I have a short temper. But she lied. I wasn't apologizing. I started the car, and drove the opposite way, bringing her home. I needed to calm down before I say or do something I regret. Minutes passed, I said nothing.

"Harry, please talk to me." She pleaded.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

" Cause' I don't want to fucking talk. That's why." I yelled.

She flinched in her seat and I felt bad. I couldn't show it. I had to stay strong. She can't just not give me an explanation, and expect me to give her one.

"Why are you so fucking mad?" She yelled back.

"Because you lied!" I screamed. " I'm fucking sorry I have emotions. Do you expect me to not be hurt by this?"

"Why are you hurt Harry? It's not your problem. I'm not your problem." She yelled. I could tell she was just as pissed as me.

That hurt. I stopped the car.

"You're right. You're not my problem." I reached over her and opened her door. "Get out of my car."

"Harry. How am I gonna get home?"

"That's not my problem."

Notes

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