Song: 'I Won't Give Up' - Jason Mraz

-*-

My brain engages before my eyes open. Immediately, I am transported back to last night. I have no idea how long I remained curled up in the darkness of the corner of the room but at some point I was aware of being lifted up. My whole being was cold and numb and I remember tired, so very tired. Then I was warm and sleep prevailed once more.

I know I am flat out in an unfamiliar bed; the covers press heavily down on top of me. My head is pounding and the skin on my face feels taut from where I rubbed away all the tears that fell there. My eyes strain to prise open but when they do, I see him. He is sitting in the tub chair beside my bed, his head rests on his hand. He is still wearing yesterday's clothes as though he has been sat there all night.  He stares bleakly at me.  He looks terrified and gaunt.

"Natasha."  Echoes quietly round the room. 

I pull the covers up higher to cocoon over me and I cover my face with my hands. Instinct also tells me to pull my knees up to my chest to make myself small again. 

"I am so sorry I was so angry. I never meant to scare you. My behaviour was deplorable." His words rasp sore and raw from his throat.

I bite my bottom lip to stop it quivering but pools well up in my eyes.

The leather on the tub chair squeaks as he slowly rises up and sinks to kneel on the floor beside the bed. 

"Natasha, listen to me. I swear I was reaching for the keys. You have to believe me, say you do.  I would never lay a finger on you or any woman.  I am not that kind of man." There is desperation in his voice and emotion choking at his throat.  He looks and sounds completely broken.

Somehow I find an inner strength inside of me to talk and to say what I need for him to understand. "You did scare me Harry because I have only ever seen a similar look that was in your eyes last night three times before in my life, in the eyes of my boyfriend when I was 17. He was permanently angry about everything. The memories of that anger are permanently etched on my skin."

Harry tenderly reaches towards the very small scare that sits just below my eye and rubs his thumb gently over it.  "I am so sorry."

I close my eyes at his touch.  "I know you are and I also know that this,"  I place my hand over his at my scar, "was in a past life. It is not in this life. It is not in my life with you and I know it never will be."  My voice breaks to tears.   

Harry speaks the truth. He is not the kind of man to take out his frustrations with his fists. In the cold light of day I know that. I believe him, believe he would never lay a finger on me. Why? Because my ex-boyfriend never had the look of regret in his eyes that are in Harry's right now. Yes he said sorry but they were empty emotionless apologies. Never did he plead for forgiveness and never did he stay up all night to check I was ok.  The next time he just said I deserved it for pushing him too far.

I lift the covers and he crawls into bed beside me. He is ice cold, probably from where he has been up all night watching over me.  Before I close my eyes to drift back to sleep, his hand reaches down and he entwines his fingers in mine and I do not move them away.

-*-

The buzzing of Harry's phone stirs my consciousness. I have absolutely no idea of the time.  He is still beside me, my hand is tightly in his. He releases my fingers to pull his phone out of his jeans pocket.

"Harry."  He answers sleepily into the handset.

Our heads are close enough on the pillows for me to hear the voice on the other end.

"Haz, it's Jon, where are you man?  We're at the studio waiting?"

Harry's response is immediate and brief.  "Hi Jon, I won't be in today."

I can make out surprise on the other end of the line.  "What do you mean?  Why?"

"Exactly what I said, I won't be in today.  I need to be at home. My session will have to wait. Please tell the others for me." There is no rudeness in Harry's tone, it is just matter of fact.  He removes the phone from his ear and ends the call.  His finger moves to the top of his phone and pushes down on the off button. He stares at the screen as the lines whirl round and round in a circle before he places it on the bedside table. In all the time I have known Harry, he has never switched his phone off, it is always on.

His hand returns to mine under the covers again and he turns his head on the pillow to look at me.  "Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I am."  I mumble into the pillow.

He sits up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed to stand and taking my hand with him so I am pulled up and sitting with my legs hanging off the edge. His arms reach above his head to fully stretch his body. Both his jumper and tee rise up to expose the fern tattoos on his soft skin poking out the top of his jeans. He grabs hold of the hem of his jumper and pulls it over his head. Turning it back the right way around, he places it over my head and I push my arms into the sleeves. It is far too big for me but it is still laced with his body heat and smells of his cologne on the collar. I snuggle into it, wrapping my arms around me.

He half-smiles nervously and bends down, placing one arm under my knees and the other around my body as he lifts me to him.  My head rests onto his shoulder and his curls tickle my cheeks.  He carries me out of the bedroom, along the landing, down the stairs and into the kitchen. His arms hold me tightly, never relaxing their grip. Despite the events of last night, this place does feel as safe as it always has.

He moves the stool with his foot and settles me down onto it.  With a pained expression, he traces over the scar on my cheekbone again, touching it lightly. He closes his eyes and sighs.

"Eggs and toast?"  He offers calmly.

"Sounds lovely."  I smile reassuringly at him.

I watch him as he moves slowly around the kitchen preparing breakfast. No one makes a better cup of tea than Harry, not even Anne. My throat is hoarse from all my crying and the tea slides down, coating my throat soothingly and giving me a warm feeling inside as it hits my stomach.

Soon creamy scrambled eggs on toast with black pepper, freshly squeezed orange juice and bananas, melon and strawberries are in front of me on the kitchen island. Harry sits down to join me but I can feel his edginess.  He takes my hands in his again and brings it up to his mouth to kiss across my knuckles.

"This looks lovely, thank you."  The need to break the silent apprehension between us irritates my insides.

As soon as the eggs hit my tongue, I realise just how hungry I am and before long, the plate is empty, the fruit eaten all accompanied by more tea and juice.  Harry on the other hand chases his food around his plate with his fork, only eating half of it, before rising off the stool to scrape the remainder into the bin.

"Have you had enough?"  As I nod in agreement, he lifts me off the stool and back into his arms, carrying me out of the kitchen and back up the two flights of stairs to his bedroom.

We enter the large ensuite bathroom and he sits me down on top of the closed toilet lid.  All the time I study his every move.  His motions are gentle, slow and measured, like everything has to be perfect and calm, not rushed. Every so often, he glances at me but when I look at him he looks away.

He turns on both taps and water gushes into the giant bath tub; steam rising into the air. He exits the bathroom briefly and returns with two clean fluffy white towels and my dressing gown over his arm.  He runs his hand across the five bottles of expensive bath scents lined up along the shelf before selecting one.  He pours it under the running water and the smell of fresh lavender filters through the bathroom.

He reaches out for my hand and as I place it in his, he pulls me up to stand in front of him.  He helps me to undress and it simply feels loving and caring and not at all awkward. With my clothes heaped in a big pile on the floor, he extends his hand to mine to help me get into the roll-top bath. I sink down into the water and the bubbles rise, some spilling over the side.  The water is so warm and where goosebumps were raised across my body, they soon disappear as the water rushes over my skin. Harry smooths my long hair behind me and pulls it up into a ponytail, securing it with a band from his wrist.

As I soak, he sits on the floor by the bath with his chin resting on the side.  He gazes at me seemingly asking so many unspoken questions and searching for the answers. His hand is entwined with mine again.

"My judgement was marred by thoughts that have been preoccupying my mind lately Harry and that with your anger triggered some bad memories last night. But I want you to know that I know you would never-" but he cuts me off.

"Natasha, just let me do this.  I need to show you, to take care of you, please let me?"  His voice like his actions is steady and quiet.  He closes his eyes and flexes his fingers in mine before bringing them back to the entwine.

"Okay." I nod and smile at him.

He washes my hair, lathering the shampoo through it then after rinsing, he streaks the conditioner through with his fingers and massages my scalp before rinsing again.  He extends a hand to me once more and I get up and out of the bath.  A big towel envelopes me and I wrap a smaller one around my hair. As I dry myself, he fetches my dressing gown that has been warming on the heated towel rail.  He places it over my shoulders and perches on the side of the bath.  He folds the cotton waffle fabric across my body, tieing the belt into a small bow. Leaning forward, his arms circle around my thighs pulling me towards him. He rests his forehead on my stomach and I run my fingers through his thick curls. He lets out a stressful sigh and I cradle him to me.

He leads me by my hand into the bedroom and I sit on the dressing table stool.  He gently combs the tangles in my hair then runs the dryer over it, smoothing out the strands with his large hands.  Once dry, he lifts me again and places me in between the sheets of his bed.  He walks over to the curtains and closes them before returning to me and giving me a chaste kiss.

"Sleep now my darling."

In this moment, I feel like a contented child again after Sunday evening bath time, all warm and safe inside.

Harry leaves me for the first time today and I briefly hear the shower running but stir again when the bed moves and he is beside me under the covers. I face away from him but I can smell the clean fresh minty shower gel on his arms as both come around me, pulling me back into him. I am the little spoon to his big spoon. His leg hooks over both of mine and he holds me tightly, silence still strongly evident between us. Where his hair is longer when wet, I can feel water droplets from his curls dampening the fabric on my shoulder.

"I love you Natasha, always." These are the last words to fall from his lips before I drift off to sleep in the safe haven of his arms.

-*-

When I next wake, light is streaming through a break in the curtains confirming it is still daylight outside. I turn over to face Harry who is fast asleep. His face looks so angelic. His hair has dried in his slumber and the soft wisps stick out in all directions. He is a gorgeous sight and I lightly trace my fingers around his curls, disturbing him from his sleep.

He opens his eyes and he smiles at me. The gaunt look on his face that sleep had taken away reappears as he searches my face. "Did you sleep?"

"Yes I did, a little bit. Did you?"

"Yes, only a small amount. I have imagines in my head of your past that I do not want to be there." He strokes my cheek with his fingertips.

But it is now my turn to cut him off.  I cup his cheek in my hand.  "Harry, you must listen to me. It happened. It took everything I had to walk away but I did and I am a stronger person for it.  I don't want you to look at me differently because of it."

"Natasha, I don't but I just cannot bear the thought of anyone hurting you.  My God, it's unthinkable." He rolls onto his back staring up at the ceiling, both hands scrunching his curls in his fists and tugging at the ends in frustration.

I lean up on my elbow and take his hand in mine as I look down at him. "It's my past and once you know all the truths, we both have to try and let it go.  If we don't, it could destroy our relationship. I could not bear that."

"No, I will not let it destroy us, I promise."  

"Thank you for this morning but please call Jon and tell him you'll be in the studio later." 

He shakes his head and turns to look at me. "I can't, I need to be here with you. I cannot believe that for the first time ever in my life I let jet lag, tiredness and work frustration build to such an epic proportion that my stress overtook me. I brought that frustration home and took it out on you.  This place is our place, a place where you should feel safe and loved by me. To think I was that angry that you thought I might hit you. Work can wait, I need to be here with you right now."

I do not argue with Harry. As much as he scared me, I know that he has scared himself more.  Instead, I kiss him ever so slowly as "I love you" spills from my lips onto his.