Harry rolled over on his side and released a deep breath. It was early and his body was exhausted. Slowly, he managed to pry his eyes open, only to discover that Annabel was no longer in bed with him.

It was strange to him because he had learned that she almost always slept later than him. A yawn took hold of him before he did anything else and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he thought about where she was.

Annabel had slept in his bed before and she usually stayed, but this time he wasn't entirely sure that she had. The previous night was the first night that he truly let her in on what he did and although she seemed to enjoy it as much as he did, he wasn't certain that she would be okay with it.

His mental state was fucked, always had been, but he hardly had any idea what hers was really like and, now that he thought about it, he was concerned. It was a weird feeling to him, wanting someone else to be okay, and he wasn't entirely sure how to go about it.

Harry remained in the comfort of his bed for another five minutes before deciding to find Annabel. He took his time getting out of bed and stretching out his limbs because somehow he knew that she hadn't left entirely.

After slipping on a pair of boxers and searching the house to find that she was not anywhere inside, he decided to check the backyard. Annabel had never explicitly said it before, but he knew that his backyard was her favorite place to be because he'd caught her staring at the space with a dream-like quality in her eyes.

Outside, it was nearly freezing and a dense fog weaved its way through the trees in thick tendrils. Annabel sat at the top of a small hill near the edge of his property, she was wearing his black sweater that was three times too big on her and the same pretty lace underwear that she had worn the night before.

Harry stood by the window for a long moment just looking at her. There was something about the way that she sat with her bare knees up to her chest, her arms over her knees and her head gently resting atop her arms, and how her hair fell down her back that had him rooted to the spot.

He stared at her for a while, he lost track after a couple of minutes, before he tore himself away to get his camera. When he'd made it back to his spot, she was still in the same position, as if time had frozen her exactly so just so he could capture it.

In moments, he had snapped a picture and gone somewhere in his mind that he never thought he would go. Harry got lost in his sea of thoughts and was brought back when the noise of the Polaroid being spit out began.

Once the image developed, he placed it and the camera on the island in the kitchen and stepped outside into the cool air. Annabel heard the door, but she remained motionless, save for the slow blink of her eyes.

Harry sat down beside her, his eyes absorbing the scenic view alongside hers. "It's cold out here."

The corners of her lips pulled up in the slightest of smiles, she responded with a curt nod and a soft spoken, "It is."

They sat in silence for a long time, the sounds of birds chirping and trees rustling in the wind filling the spaces between them. Harry was trying to come up with a way to ask her if she was alright without explicitly asking in the typical way.

Annabel's toes were starting to feel numb and her butt hurt from sitting on the cold, hard ground for so long. She'd been outside for about thirty minutes by the time Harry had found her and decided to join her in just his thin pair of boxers.

He must have been freezing, but it didn't show aside goosebumps that dotted his arms and legs. Annabel found it hard not to look at him. His hair was a mess and his lips were a deep pink, as if he'd been biting them all morning. In the dim morning light, accompanied by the fog, he looked just as breathtaking as the landscape in front of them.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his tongue poke out to wet his lips, "If last night bothered you, you don't have to do it you know."

He was looking at her now, his eyes light and his lips slightly parted as if he had something else to say. Annabel waited for a moment, but he didn't say anything else.

"It didn't bother me."

Annabel let a brief silence fill the space between her words, "I like it."

Harry nodded slightly, "Next time, tell me if you don't like the girl."

He turned his head to the side to catch her smiling to herself, "What if I don't like any of the girls?"

Annabel turned to meet his gaze, her darker eyes meeting his with a playful mischief about them.

Harry sighed and she watched his lips tilt up in a slight smile, "Then I guess that I'll have to share you. Even though you know I don't like it."

. . .

"Why don't you stay?" Harry asked as he watched Annabel sip her orange juice.

It was nice to have her there in the mornings, she usually left before he awoke and the rest of the day just felt...wrong. Harry liked being alone, it was that sometimes he didn't like being alone.

Annabel didn't seem to be bothered by the question. She shrugged her shoulders and met his eyes as he waited for the toaster to pop, "Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

The toaster popped and Harry jumped in his skin. He'd forgotten all about it because he was caught up with Annabel and that fucking slight smile that she always gave him when he asked a question that perked her interest.

Annabel laughed until there were tears in her eyes. Harry had never heard her laugh like that before and ended up staring at her until she caught her breath.

Annabel wiped her eyes and laughed some more, "Don't fucking look at me like that Mr. Big Bad Serial Killer, you're the one that was scared by the toaster."

Harry looked at her for a moment longer before bursting into laughter himself. She was right, it was hilarious considering what he liked to do in his free time.

Their laughter died down within another minute and he found himself smiling as he looked at her with her flushed cheeks and bright eyes, "Good thing that you're here, then."

Annabel nodded before she stood with her half full glass in her right hand, "Indeed."

Harry watched as she walked up the stairs and disappeared into his bedroom. It was starting to go too far, but he was in no mood to stop it, even if it terrified him.

For the remainder of the day, he only caught glimpses of her as she left to get some of her belongings from her apartment and move them into his. He would have offered to help, but he knew that she hated that and would have told him no.

Annabel didn't move anything other than her clothes into his bedroom. She decided that she wanted the pull out couch in the living room and Harry didn't question her or try to change her mind.

Around eight she decided that she was finally hungry and ordered pizza for the both of them, even though they didn't talk as they ate. After eating half of the box, Harry proposed that they consecrate her new living space.

Not long afterward, they were out of breath and tangled together on the strangely comfortable pull out couch. Annabel was the first to leave, she wanted a glass of water as soon as she had caught her breath.

Harry sighed and lie there for another moment before gathering his clothes and disappearing into his bedroom.

For a few months, things were always like that. Annabel never liked to stay with him after sex and always walked away the moment she'd caught her breath.

In the afternoons, she would stay downstairs and read with loud indie music playing in the background. Harry liked to lie in his bed and stare at the ceiling when she did that because she often sang along like he wasn't there.

Annabel wasn't a very good singer, but he still liked to listen to her and, after a little while, he started to sing along himself. Of course, when he sang, he did it quietly and often hummed so that she wouldn't hear him. There was one time when he sang along that she stopped the music and he didn't hear it again for another three days.

At night, when he didn't feel alright with himself, he walked downstairs and ended up sleeping on the pullout couch with Annabel. He never tried to get close to her or to cuddle with her, he just liked the fact that she was there.

Sometimes it was the opposite and it was Annabel that came upstairs and crawled into his bed during the early hours of the morning, when it was still dark. They never talked about it.

Now Annabel was running the tips of her fingers over his skin, drawing invisible patterns on his arm with the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her hair was spread on the pillow and her chest was slightly pressed to his. She didn't do things like this often, it was only when they'd had sex in a slow and gentle way that she did, and Harry found himself wishing that she would do it more often.

Harry wasn't going to tell her that he liked it because, if he did, he knew that she would stop him every time they weren't going at it like animals. He was looking at her eyes but she was only paying attention to her fingertips on his skin.

"Why don't you stay?" The question itself was a repeat of what he had asked her months ago, but it meant something different this time. Now, it meant 'why don't you ever stay with me' instead of the general 'why don't you just stay here'.

Annabel understood what he meant and sighed; her eyes still didn't meet his. "You know why."

Harry did know why, but he wanted another reason because they both knew that they had already gone too far to leave anything alone.

"Give me another reason."

Annabel's fingers stopped tracing patterns and slowly lifted from his skin. Her dark eyes finally met his as she decided what her other reason would be.

Harry waited patiently, his eyes drifting to her lips often both because he was tempted to kiss her and because he was waiting to hear her say something.

"It's your space, Harry."

She was implying that because it was his space it would become their space if she stayed more than she did. Harry didn't see it that way, but he wasn't exactly going to argue either.

Her hand was next to his on the mattress and he reached for it, only to carefully trace over her fingers and minimally link them between his own. "What if I want you to?"

He watched as the corners of her lips lifted in the smallest of smiles and then fell away moments later, "Then it's even more dangerous than it was before."

Each of them thrived on danger, that much was obvious, but there was a line between them that Annabel didn't want to cross because it was the type of danger that she was afraid of. Harry had accepted that it was too late to turn back the clock and he was willing to step foot into uncharted territory, but Annabel just wasn't ready and maybe she never would be.

Harry was focused on their hands and Annabel was focused on his face. "Stay. Just for tonight."

Annabel took a long moment to answer and Harry entwined their fingers before she could pull away.

"Harry-"

He was looking at her now with something different in his eyes, an emotion she'd never seen him show until this exact moment. Harry just wanted her to stay because he had grown tired of being alone and his mind had finally started to feel it.

"Please, you know I never ask."

Annabel looked down at their hands and then back at his nearly pleading green eyes. She sighed through her nose and offered him a soft smile, "Okay, I'll stay."