Into The Flood - As Tall As Lions

HARRY

I wake up before her. Her arms are wrapped around me. Cautious to not wake her, I unwrap Isabella from her strong hold on my waist. She stirs in her sleep, her eyes fluttering but do not open. "Shh, don't wake baby girl." She hums in her slumber. I manage to disconnect her body from me.

The duvet falls off her body. She shivers instinctively. Her hands grab out for me, searching for my absent warmth. Carefully I slide my pillow into her arms. Isabella wraps her arms around the pillow, hugging it to her body. She murmurs in her sleep; a content smile on her face.

I check the time: six am.

My hands grab the first pair of pants that I can find, pulling it up my body quickly. I walk out my bedroom door, shutting it after I leave. A long sigh escapes my lips once I am out of the room.

There's a door beside my bedroom that leads to a small balcony. I walk outside, the cold air hitting my bare skin. The sunrise is halfway up the sky, it's colours of orange, red, and yellow painted across the sky. I pull out the pack of cigarettes that I stuffed into the back of my pocket. Once the stick touches my lips, the anxiety that has seemingly embedded itself within me dissolves.

I inhale the sweet taste of nicotine. It's potent tar coating my lungs. My lungs fill itself with it's smoke. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. My body leans over the rail of this small balcony. Everything always seemed quieter out here. The realities of this world seemingly disappearing once I've walked past these two french doors. It was as if I've found Narnia. A secret escape from all of my troubles and issues.

My mind wanders to last night. The hurt and embarrassment that rimmed Isabella's eyes. The way that she looked at me, pleading me to ease her of this embarrassed state caused by my dickhead of a step-father. Step-father. The word left a bitter taste on my lips.

With thoughts of last night, comes memories of Isabella's confession. The feeling her few wet tears that escaped her eyes was a feeling that I never wanted to feel again. Her eyes, brown irises that held so much wisdom and admiration, pleaded with me. Persuading me to open up with her. Give her a piece of my heart that, a piece that was reserved for her and her only.

A loud creak emits from behind me. I don't have to turn around to know who it is. Her rose scented shampoo floats over to me. "Harry?" Her soft voice cracks, remnants of sleep still evident. "Why are you out here? It's cold."

She walks over to me. The large duvet wrapped around her. Isabella's hair is a matted mess on her head. Pieces of hair stick out from her bun. Loose strands sticking to her forehead. Even with messy hair and sleep-deprived dark circles, she still looked beautiful.

"I couldn't sleep." I take another drag from my cigarette. It burns my throat but the feeling is intoxicating.

She leans against the railing. The duvet is held up to her nose, her brows furrowed in thought.

We stand out here in silence. The minutes tick away. The sun has completely risen and life begins to awaken.

I take out my second cigarette. Being with my family for long periods of time always caused me to smoke more than I normally would. Stress smoking? I don't even know. Quite frankly, I didn't give a fuck.

Isabella looks over at me. No judgement in her eyes. She watches as I light the end of the cigarette and continues to watch as I take a drag. "Can I have one?" She asks me.

I give her a questioning look. Forgetting for a moment that she smoked. I don't say anything to her as I pass her an unlit one. She thanks me and sticks it in her mouth. I hold up the lighter. My eyes making contact with hers. She watches as I light, our eyes not once breaking contact.

She inhales a deep breath. Her lips parting slightly, the smoke exhaling slowly. Her eyes still watch me as she does it and it's fucking hot. Everything that she did was fucking sexy. Isabella was fucking sexy.

Her head slowly turns back around. Her gaze shifting to the neighboring homes. "It's quiet here," she comments. The only real sounds being the birds that fly above.

"Welcome to the fucking suburbs," I say to her. I take another long drag of my cigarette.

Once we are done, we stub it out. I flick the now unlit dub to the side of the balcony. Isabella following suit. She watches me as I turn around. My hands finding her waist through the thick duvet. She opens up for me, the duvet blanketing me in and close to her body. She is warm. A contrast to my cold skin.

I wrap my arms around her. The tips of my fingers trailing up her shirt. She flinches once my cold skin touches her warm one. I rest my forehead against her own. The warm air of her breathing tickling my lips. "I don't like seeing you cry," I say to her softly. My throat is dry from the sleep and the two cigarettes, causing my already hoarse voice to sound even raspier.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"No need to be."

She doesn't say anything else. Her eyes flutter shut. I lean in, leaving a chaste kiss against her lips. Her hands wrap around me, connecting our bodies into a hug. She nuzzles her head against my chest and I leave another kiss against the top of her head.

No other words need to be spoken. We seemingly are able to communicate through our gentle touches and rapid heartbeats. I know that regardless of my fucked up attitude and inability to fucking open up to her, she still cared about me. That she was still going to be there. I didn't deserve Isabella. I really fucking didn't.

-

"It smells amazing in here, Samantha." Mum's eyes light up at Isabella's compliment. Over the past few hours, we have been spending time with my mother. Mark has been missing, doing god-knows what in his office. I was fucking pleased that I didn't have to worry about him.

I knew that my mother wanted this day to run smoothly. She didn't want any fucking issues between us. The fact that he wasn't here, making smart ass comments to Isabella made this day a little more bearable. I still wasn't fucking pleased that I had to be here. I was ready to get the fuck out of here, but knowing that Iz was happy here, I'll stay.

"Thank you dear," mum gives Iz a soft smile. Her bright green eyes looking lovingly at her.

"Do you need any help?"

"That would be wonderful! You know, we usually have our chef cook the Easter dinner but I thought I'd do it this year. I know that you're away form your family and I wanted to give you a little taste of home. A mothers touch. I hope that's alright. I'm not the best cook in the world but it's the love that counts, isn't it?" Isabella smiles warmly at my mother.

"That sounds amazing, Samantha. Thank you."

I sit on a stool as I watch my mother and Isabella interact. Not once did I think I'd be in this situation. Ever since... her... I didn't think I'd ever bring a girl home. Especially to have a fucking bonding session with my mother in the kitchen. It was fucking bizarre to watch.

Isabella laughed as she cut up the potatoes. Her brown eyes glistening as her lips form a carefree grin. She looked so relaxed. A complete opposite from last night. It seemed like all the anxiety she had been harboring last night slipped away. I was fucking pleased to see it.

"Oh no!" I look at my mother, who's hands fly up to her mouth.

"What's wrong?" I ask her. She turns around, a smile on her lips.

"Harry, dear, I need you to go to the market for me. I seemingly have forgotten to pick up cranberries. I was going to make a sauce."

"Really?" I groan. I really didn't want to leave. I especially didn't want to leave Isabella here, alone, especially with my mother. I could only imagine the things she'd blurt out to Isabella. Things that I didn't want her fucking knowing.

"Please son. It's important."

I glance over at Isabella. No traces of uneasiness or discomfort are on her face. She just smiles at me softly, nodding her head, telling me that it's fine to go. I groan once again but this time standing up from my seat on the stool. "Is there anything else that you need whilst I'm out?"

"Maybe some more sweet potatoes. A pudding would be lovely too. I have some pie here but maybe another dessert that you see?" She walks over to a cookie jar that sits on the counter. She opens the lid, pulling out a twenty pound note. "This should cover it. If not, tell me how much you use of your own money and I will pay you back."

She places it in my hand, leaving a quick kiss on my cheek. "Thank you dear."

"Come with me, Isabella."

She looks up at me from her potatoes. "Um, I think I'll stay here. Help your mom out."

I give her a pointed look. She returns it and shrugs her shoulders. Letting out a sigh I mutter a quick, "Fine." I walk over to where she stands, kissing her cheek. I leave one on my mothers as well before walking to my shoes and keys.

The supermarket is a fifteen minute drive from my mum's house. It's fucking crowded. I thought this was a damn holiday. Why is everyone out? "Fucking hell," I mutter under my breath. I find an open parking space, pulling up into the stall.

Inside, the grocery isn't as busy. I hustle my way through the aisles, pushing past the fucking slow customers that take their damn time choosing between which can of purée pumpkin they want to buy.

Turning quickly into another aisle, I am hit with a rushing trolley. "For fucks sake, watch where you're going." I yell, my foot throbbing from the sudden impact.

"Oh fuck, sorry."

I look up and am met with a pair of dark green eyes. The older man's hands instantly grip the bar of his trolley, his eyes looking at mine. "Holiday rush," he laughs awkwardly. He runs his hand through his short brown hair. He scratches the back of his neck. It's a gesture that I am far too familiar with. A habit that I do when in a seemigly awkward situation. It is then that I notice that I am mirroring his actions and pull my hand down quickly.

"Yeah," is all I say. This was fucking weird. Awkward even. I look at this man once more. He looked so damn familiar. I couldn't fucking put my finger on it. His voice was deep. His accent not as prominent. Hints of an American accent mixing with his Liverpool one.

"Do I know you?" He asks me.

I take a step back. My eyes narrowing and brow furrowed. "I don't think so," I say to him slowly.

He studies my face once more before shaking his head. He laughs slightly, "Sorry mate. You look like someone I know, is all. Have a happy Easter." The mysterious man says to me before he backs up and turns his cart around. I watch his talk lanky frame walk down the aisle. His back hunched slightly.

That was fucking weird. I felt like I had seen him before. My own brain racing to try and solve this mystery. His green eyes, the scruffy beard. His voice. It all seemed to be familiar to me, yet I couldn't put my finger on it.

After standing in the middle of the Tesco probably looking like a damn moron, I finish up my shopping. I pay for my items as quickly as I can before walking out and back to my car.