#bb39

I knew exactly why, there was no question about it. I had been to a mere two photography sessions, and it was almost like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I knew it would affect me somehow, but I didn’t know there was a weight on me simply because I wasn’t taking pictures. I thought I would feel joy, I thought I would feel happiness, and I knew I would feel overwhelmed. But the main thing I had felt was this lift, this feeling of freedom and weightlessness. I felt liberated, unchained. But most importantly, the second I picked up the camera, I felt like myself. I didn’t have anyone there forcing me to do it, there was no pressure, no expectations. I was picking up a camera for me, and no one else. Because of that, I was feeling more myself than I had done in years. It was impossible not to notice that change within myself. It had done me a world of good. Another thing it had helped me realise, though I knew I would never tell either of my parents, was that I was kind of glad I hadn’t done photography as my degree. It was nice to be taking photos with absolutely zero pressure. It was completely mine, simply for my pleasure. Every day I wanted to wake with a camera in my hands, but that would have involved stealing the camera I was lucky enough to use on my course and taking it home, and I didn’t think that would have gone down too well. “Pip! I’m talking to you here!” Ed cried from beside me. “What?” I whipped my head to him. “What is up with you today?” “I’m distant.” “You really are. You alright?” “Yeah, I’m good.” I said honestly. “What’s up?” “I think Ringo’s mad at me.” He sighed. Friday lectures were pretty chilled, which was great, until I started thinking about how much I was paying for relaxed studying. Thankfully, once again, Ed had purchased every single book on our reading list, so every Friday when we were told to bring in certain books, to read to certain pages and study them in our own time, I remembered how grateful I was for sitting next to him in our very first lecture. “Mad at you for what?” I puzzled. “I don’t know! That’s my problem.” “You got any ideas?” “Mm... Umm... Maybeeee... No. Seriously. I’m an amazing boyfriend, I don’t know what I’ve done.” “Well, what makes you think she’s mad at you?” “She’s just being off, y’know? But I don’t wanna ask, because she’ll tell me I should know why, so I may as well figure it out. Fuck.” Speaking from a female’s point of view, he’d probably done something wrong, I just didn’t have the heart to tell him. On top of that, it would probably just be something stupid. There was a high possibility that Ringo was mad at him for something so completely dumb and meaningless, Ed would have totally brushed over it. It’s hard to explain those things to a boy. I’m not sure they’ll ever learn. Poor things. “Well, have you asked her about it at all?” I quizzed. “No. I’ve just been trying to be extra nice.” “Just ask her.” “I’m scared.” “You’re pathetic. Now text your girlfriend, and ask her what’s up.” I instructed, then took a deep breath in. “How is she otherwise? I haven’t seen much of her.” “She’s busy. She’s working really hard already. I dunno. Maybe it’s something to do with that.” I shook my head and contained a smile, wondering how mundane the outcome of their argument would be. For the first time all week, I hadn’t wanted my lecture to end. I was too damn nervous about what things would be like when I got back. Would she already be there? Would she be waiting for us? I knew Harry finished his lecture at the same time as me, like he did on Mondays, and he wanted to walk back with me, but all I could think about was what it would be like if we were to walk into our home and she was already there, and I would have to be right there to see them reunite. I’d been doing brilliantly for the past few weeks, but I wasn’t sure I could quite hack that. “Oi.” Ed nudged me from my thoughts. “Apparently we’re studying Dr Seuss before Christmas. What are we, twelve?” “Dr Seuss is a genius, and if you’re not aware of that, then you definitely need to study him.” He gasped sarcastically, his hand slapping against his chest, his eyes wide. “Oh my god.” He flummoxed. “Are you twelve?” “Shut up, you idiot.” At the front of the room, Miss Peppers, who refused to let us call her by her first name like the rest of the lecturers did, declared that it was finally the end of the week, and we were free to go. Of course, that was not before she told us we needed to read a book over the weekend to prepare for our Monday lecture. A book from our reading list. A book, that of course, I did not own. Without even a second thought, Ed dug the book from his backpack, and handed it to me. I gave him a grateful smile. “Why do you even have this with you?” I sighed appreciatively. “Because unlike you, I check the lecture requirements online beforehand, and she asked us to bring this book.” He replied, getting to his feet. “I’ve already read it, so knock yourself out.” “With the amount of reading I need to do this weekend, I’m sure I’ll have no problem being knocked out.” I yawned at the mere thought. “Thanks.” “No worries. Now c’mon, it’s the weekend, and I don’t want to be here for a minute longer than I need to be.” Being in a lecture on a Friday wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Finishing at 5pm on a Friday, was actually quite nice. It made it more apparent that it was finally the weekend, it gave me a sense of excitement. No matter how testing the weekend was going to be, I was damn grateful she wasn’t coming to visit on a bloody Monday. It was the weekend, and I was refusing to let anything bring me down. Even Minnie. Everyone spilled out of the room manically, tripping over each other, eager to get away from university for two short, blissful days. Less than a month in, and second year was a hell of a lot more intense than the first. The sun was shining once we finally got outside, but not even the sun could hide how bitterly cold the weather was slowly becoming as the months dragged on. Harry stood waiting for me with a giant smile on his face, his hands in his coat pocket as the crowd walked around him, making him stand out even more, being the only one stood still facing the other way. He looked amazing, like some kind of bloody vision. The wind was blowing mildly through his curls, and he just looked so effortlessly king-like. I was in awe of him, constantly. “Hi.” I greeted softly as we reached him. “Happy Friday, Pippa. Happy Friday, Ed.” “Happy Friday, Haz.” Ed greeted chirpily. “How’s it going?” “Good, yeah.” He grinned. “You excited to see the ol’ ball and chain?” Ed was still in the dark about my feelings for Harry, but I always thought that even if I told him straight to his face, it still wouldn’t be something he could wrap his head around. Plus, it was nice having one person who didn’t grill me about how I felt; who didn’t ask if I was okay with a slightly sad tone to their voice. At the time, Ed felt like the only person in my life that I was spending time with who was not treating me like I was broken, and I needed him for that exact reason. “Yeah, it’ll be good. I can’t wait.” Harry cooed. I couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over, in all honesty. I just had my fingers crossed that I would at least get on with the girl. No matter what happened, it was going to torture me, I knew that. I just wanted it to be made easier. I genuinely wanted to like her. I couldn’t quite believe myself. Even so, the sooner the weekend ended, the better. Well, that was how I was thinking about things, until I realised that the quicker the weekend went, we would only mean we were closer to the next time she had would visit. I was praying she wouldn’t want to visit him every weekend. “You ready to go?” I asked him. “Sure.” He nodded. “Alright, I’m in the opposite direction, so I’ll see you Monday, alright Pip?” Ed chirped. “Have a good weekend!” We returned the well wishes and began making our journey home. I wondered if Harry had noticed the way conversation didn’t flow between us as easily as it once had. That was completely down to me. Every time I tried to be like my old self, I got lost somewhere along the way. I so desperately wanted to be normal with him, but I just couldn’t. Things were pretty good, better than I thought they were going to be when I first found out he had a girlfriend, so I figured that’s why Harry hadn’t caught on. But even so, we weren’t quite right. I wasn’t sure we ever would be again. “How was your lecture?” He asked me as we started wandering away from campus. “Yeah, it was good. How was yours?” “It was pretty good, yeah.” He shrugged. “Glad it’s the weekend though.” He must have known, because our conversation was absolutely fine but it was just fucking small talk, and it was so unlike us. Even when we used to argue, at least we were quick and witty and sharp with one another. This was just ridiculous. I decided to throw us into a conversation that suited us more. “My photography classes are going well.” I breathed. He must have been a little thrown by me saying that, because a few days beforehand, he had asked me about them and I had told him I didn’t want to talk about it. “Oh, really?” He gawped happily. “I didn’t get that impression when I asked you.” “I was just being grumpy that day. As usual.” I fake laughed. “But they are going well. Even though I don’t really have all the equipment I used to, it still feels amazing. It just makes me so happy.” Harry hadn’t been watching his step, he had been too busy looking down to me. He was happy for me, proud of me, overwhelmed for me. He was so caught up in the moment, he tripped over a crack in the pavement, and yet still, his eyes didn’t move from mine. “I’m just...” He took a deep breath in. “I’m so sad that it took you this long. You’ve missed out.” There was one thing I had been desperate to tell him for months. It was eating me alive more so than the fact I hadn’t told him how intensely I cared about him. This was the one thing I knew I really needed to tell him, something he deserved to know. “I... I don’t think I’d have done this… without you, y’know?” I stuttered and stammered my way through the entire sentence, because it just felt so painfully honest. Recently I had made a pact to stop lying to myself so much. I guess it wasn’t something I had really been lying about, but it was definitely something I hadn’t been 100% honest about. Even though I had never voiced that little fact, I figured it was something Harry knew. The look on his face, suggested otherwise. “You serious?” He heaved. “That night in February, in the field near your house.” I gulped. “I just... I forgot that having a camera in my hand... it... It feels like home. You brought me home. I... I saw you completely differently after that.” I felt like I was going to cry, because that was as close as I could get to telling him all about my adoration for him. My bottom lip was quivering, and I was so bloody grateful I could blame it on the cold winds. But as I looked up to Harry again, I couldn’t help but notice the look on his face, the bob of his Adams apple, the way his nostrils flared. It truly meant something to him. “I never knew that.” He exhaled. “I actually thought you hated me… for forcing you to take a picture.” “Definitely not. I just... I don’t think I’d be doing this course if it wasn’t for you. I’d probably still be avoiding it. I guess I’m trying to say thank you. I dunno. Thanks for forcing me to do that.” “I’m proud of you, Pip.” He smiled admirably. “I’m glad I could help.” Conversation fell flat again as my fingers fidgeted and scratched against each other, my nose twitching and my heart racing. It felt good though, because even though my heart was beating so fast that I was almost sure he could see it if he was too look at my chest, it also felt like a massive weight from my chest. He knew, in the only way he could know at that moment, how much I adored and cherished him, how much reverence I had for him. That felt so good. And in that exact moment in time, it was enough. + + + Zayn and Louis sat on the edge of my bed, awkwardly watching me as I sat on the floor, painting my toenails. I had kept glancing up to them, then going back to my toes, then up, then back down, until their awkward stares and throat clearing had gotten too much for me to ignore. “What?” I groaned. “You okay?” Zayn asked. “I’m fine.” “Harry wants us to all be downstairs to meet her.” “I know.” I shrugged. “Well... he shouted for us to go down like… five minutes ago.” “I’m painting my nails.” I said, completely nonchalant. “Don’t mean to be a dick,” Louis joined in. “But it sounds to me like you’re trying to avoid it. I’m pretty sure you’re on your tenth layer of nail varnish.” “Who made you the queen of nail varnish?” I huffed. “Me and my brother always wanted a little sister, okay? Leave us alone.” I giggled down to my nails, shaking my head, but continuing to apply another layer, even though Louis was definitely right, the whole thing was starting to look like a complete mess because I was over applying it. I just really didn’t want to go downstairs. They went quiet, again, but I could still feel their eyes burning me, those sympathetic bloody eyes where I could tell how bloody sorry they felt for me without even bloody looking at them. With one more giant groan, I looked up to them. They both had the same idiotic smiles on their faces, they genuinely looked like the ultimate duo. “Fine, okay, we’ll go downstairs.” I huffed. “But you two owe me!” ”Whatever, drama queen.” Zayn got to his feet, and offered his hand. I was pulled to my feet, smudging my nail varnish almost automatically. But I didn’t care, all I could think about was Minnie. We walked downstairs and turned ourselves to head into the living room, where we could see Harry sat on the sofa, one leg bobbing up and down, his hands clasped together, looking to us with a small smile. For some reason, it was almost like he was nervous. I couldn’t figure out why the hell he would be nervous to see his own girlfriend. The only plausible thing I could think of, was that he was nervous how I would react. He may have been totally dense to how I felt for him, but we had slept together. Maybe he was nervous about how we’d all feel about her, really, because he would want his friends to like the girl he was with. Then again, maybe it was something else. Maybe he was just excited, maybe I was seeing something that wasn’t even there. I’d done that before when it came to Harry. “I didn’t know you were here, Louis.” Harry greeted. “Yeah, man. Me and Zayn are-” There was a knock on the door. Before I could even settle, before I could sit down in the living room and mentally prepare myself, she had arrived. My stomach tightened in a way I had never known before. It was so foreign and terrifying. I was nervous and I was scared, but I was eager and I was frightened and threatened. The emotions were so large and overwhelming and all fighting to be the most dominant. We all whipped around to face the door as Harry jumped excitedly to his feet, and dashed past us. I got one alarmed look from Louis, but our eyes had to be on the door, because we were all so eager to see her. And fuck, she was a sight. She was too cool for her own good, and it killed me. She had these little circular sunglasses on, regardless of the fact the sun was more or less out of sight. Her hair was short, just below her jaw, bleach blonde and jagged. Her lips were bright red, she had a leather jacket on, some kind of lace bra thing underneath, denim shorts and giant black boots that reached over her knees, lacing the whole way up. This shit-eating grin appeared on her face as soon as she realised all eyes were on her, and she just knew. She just fucking knew and I don’t even know why, but it hurt. I felt invisible. “Hey.” She greeted, cocky, self-assured. “Your house is more of a shit-hole than you told me.” I had to smile, because I knew how fucking offended Zayn would be by that, even though I’m sure she just meant it as a joke or a passing comment. Zayn was protective of our home, and with good reason. First year is a blur, you’re thrown into your accommodation and you have to deal with what it’s like and the people you’re put with. The new house was ours. Our first real home, and I knew Zayn was not going to be happy that she had decided to make a bad comment about it. My smile dropped pretty quickly when Harry pulled her eagerly inside and forced his lips on hers. Her fingers found the hair on the back of his head straight away, and though the kiss was brief, it punctured my heart and left me reeling. She turned to look at us once they were done, Harry’s arm around her waist as he stared down at her like some love-struck buffoon. “So, who’s who?” She asked. “I’m Louis.” He offered his hand to her. “I don’t live here, just a friend.” “Fake tan, or blessed with olive skin?” She asked whilst shaking his hand. “Blessed.” “God loves you, cutie.” She winked. “I guess that makes you Zayn.” “Yup.” Zayn, however, did not offer his hand. “Nice to meet you.” “I like your docs.” She told him. “I keep trying to force Harry to buy some, but he won’t listen to me.” I could see already that Zayn was getting annoyed with her, and I really didn’t want to love that, I really kept trying to be a bigger person, a better person. But sometimes, it’s human nature to be fucking petty, and I was being just that. “Well, since he doesn’t like docs, that would be weird.” Zayn cleared his throat. “Hm. Whatever.” She brushed. “That must make you Pippa.” “It must.” I faked a smile. “Harry obviously forgot to tell me how pretty you are.” She smiled. “You good?” “I’m fine. Are you?” “I need a drink. We going out tonight or what?” She dropped her bag on the floor by the door and cat-walked past us, leaving us all just watching her go. She walked like she owned the place, but any girl in their right mind who looked like her, would do exactly the same. She was a spectacle. She was a force to be reckoned with and she knew it, which only helped her. It was easy to dislike someone like that, but impossible not to be in awe of them. Harry followed quickly behind her like a lost puppy, and I swear to god it was like the rest of us had no bloody clue how to react or what the hell to do, because we were just glued to our spots, completely dumbfounded. She had knocked us all completely off our feet, because she was a bigger personality than the lot of us put together and we’d been in her company for a matter of seconds. Louis lowered his brows, putting his hands on his hips as Zayn released an exasperated sigh, and the struggle had already begun. “Shall we go upstairs and paint our nails?” Louis cringed, and I was almost sure he was being completely serious. + + + Harry looked at her like he was bewildered by her. To be honest, we all kind of did. She was two years older than the rest of us for one, a factor she wouldn’t let us forget. But as the night had continued, she just proved over and over again that she was literally the most confident person we had ever met. She asked people questions all night, but it seemed like the only reason she was doing it was so that she could impose her opinion, or tell a story that was slightly better. She asked Zayn if he was enjoying his course, only to continue to tell him how hard he would find it to make money in that field. She asked Louis if he drove, only to tell him it was a waste of money. She asked me if I dyed my hair, only to tell me that I should try a darker shade. I had been desperate to like the girl. I had been fucking desperate, but we were at the stage of the night where we were just about to head over to Thimble, and myself, Zayn and Louis were exceptionally close to ripping our hair out. She was witty, funny, captivating, and I found myself being jealous of her. Not just because she was with Harry, but the way she held herself, how highly she clearly thought of herself. I would have killed for her confidence. Yet she was so sickeningly condescending. So sarcastically sweet. When Niall had told me that Harry didn’t like her, he just liked the idea of her, I had no clue what he meant. But after finally meeting her properly, it made perfect sense. Of course Harry was infatuated with a girl who was two years older than us, gorgeous, and so obnoxiously self-assured it was almost scary. The only question I couldn’t answer, was why he was still so blind to how she really was. How he could actually be in a relationship with someone like that, and still like her. The worst part was, all that did was bounce back on me. I’d never felt less desirable. I was there, trying my best not to, but fucking waiting on him. Just waiting. Yet, he was with her. It made me feel awfully about myself. Like that somehow meant that I was worse than the girl in front of us, who to me, seemed so painfully dreadful. Zayn read my mind in that exact moment. “I’m gunna fucking kill you, if you’re comparing yourself to her.” We were both stood in the kitchen trying to down our drinks before we left, and she was sat on Harry’s knee in the living room. We both watched through the open door, seeing the way he doted on her, almost like he knew he had to make an effort. Like he had to fake being cool to keep her. “I’m nothing like her.” I mumbled. “You’re better.” “Well, I’d like to fucking think so, but I’m not the one going out with Harry, am I?” I cried, as quietly as possible. “Being with someone doesn’t define how fucking great you are, Pip, and you know that. You used to hate the guy. You know more than anyone else, that he can be a complete arsehole.” “I’m not sure he’s the arsehole in this situation.” “No, not necessarily, but... This isn’t him? Is it? Being with someone like that? He’s with her for her looks. There’s no other reason for it. There can’t be? He’s being such a fucking typical lad. It’s a joke. This isn’t him. This is the guy that you could see, when no one could understand why you hated him so much.” I hadn’t even thought about it like that before, but he was right. This boy, who was with someone for their looks, who could cope with snide comments, and smirk about the girl on his arm, was exactly the boy who I had encountered almost a year before. All I could do was keep my fingers crossed that I wouldn’t snap at him, and that the two of us wouldn’t end up arguing in the way we used to. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Louis dashed down the stairs, looking incredibly dapper in his turtleneck jumper and his hair slicked back, and when he waited by the door, we knew it was time to go. “C’mon, dick brains,” He hollered. “Let’s fucking go.” Louis was our comic relief for the evening, and he had been doing a wonderful job, though I definitely missed Mike. A night out never felt quite right without him. Zayn turned to me with a fed up look on his face. I had never seen him react that way with someone. He was such an accepting, open-minded person. It took a lot for him to dislike someone. I didn’t want to say he hated Minnie, but he really didn’t like the girl. Harry and his girlfriend stayed joined at the damn hip as we finally left the house, giggling and flirting like they’d just bloody met, rather than actually being in a relationship. Me and Zayn sulked behind them, and Louis waited by the door for us, because there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to third wheel with those two. So we set off. One of the reasons we liked the house so much was because Thimble was a short walk away, but in a way I regretted that, because it was painfully cold, but it was far too close to order a taxi. I linked my arm with Zayn’s and we walked miserably behind them, Louis throwing his arm around Zayn’s shoulder, making it difficult for us to walk together without stumbling over ourselves, but we didn’t really care. We were the three musketeers as far as I was concerned, the only thing we were missing was the hats and swords. I was pretty thankful about that though, because I couldn’t be blamed for my actions if I had a sword that night. “I say we ditch those two as soon as we get in there.” Louis muttered. “If we don’t, there’s a good chance I’m going to jump off the roof.” I huffed. “I’m definitely getting the shots in.” Zayn shook his head. “You always get the shots in.” Louis groaned. “It’s no special occasion.” Minnie squealed so loudly, she must have woken everyone who was sleeping in their cosy homes within a mile radius. We all cringed and squirmed at the shriek as we saw her pull Harry’s hand off her bum. I was in literal pain. “Oh, he always does that.” Minnie turned to us. “Whenever we’re walking in somewhere, he grabs my bum. I think it’s a protective thing.” She had this look on her face, this cocky, almost bitchy look as she said that. That’s when I figured, that she had a good idea how I felt about Harry. And she was deciding to rub it in my face. “It’s nothing to do with that.” I bit back, barely aware that I was speaking. “Excuse me?” Her voice was full of disdain, stopping her steps and glaring at me. “It’s a masculinity thing.” We all had to stop with her. “Harry’s very protective of his masculinity. He likes to prove it all the time. Showing his feelings emasculates him, so he has to grope you in front of people to feel better.” Everyone was looking everywhere other than at me, awkwardly staring off into the distance. All except Harry, who was looking at me with pure loathing in his eyes. But I didn’t regret saying it. My body literally ached with the amount I cared for him, but that was something about him I knew to be true. The fights, the way he slept with girls, his vendetta against pink and disdain of putting glitter on his face at the festival, was all in the hope of keeping his darling masculinity in check. It was laughable, and I had no issue pointing it out. I was feeling bitter, and that was my one way I could vent. He couldn’t possibly deny it. But he did look very angry. “Are you fucking kidding me, Pippa?” He scowled. “What? It’s true.” I shrugged. “You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about. You’re just trying your bullshit psychoanalysis on me. It’s pathetic.” He began storming off again, and we all followed, Minnie jogging to catch up with Harry and link their hands, shooting me an evil glare over her shoulder. “Bite your tongue, Pip.” Zayn mumbled in my ear. “And for the fucking record,” Harry stopped again, and turned back to me. “You don’t know why I am the way I am, but I fucking do. So lay off trying to figure me out. You don’t fucking know. You don’t know. Fuck off.” He had spat those words at me. His nose had been crinkled, his eyebrows low, and his voice was dripping in hatred. It didn’t really hurt, hearing him speak to me like that. It was expected, and not unfamiliar. In a way, I had wanted a reaction from him. Mostly, I was in enough pain as it was. I had reached my peak when it came to that feeling. Harry could shout at me all he wanted and I would still feel more or less numb. I got one last evil glare from the both of them before they stormed off again, marching ahead of us so quickly, it seemed ditching them wouldn’t be a hard task. Neither of them wanted to be in my company, and I couldn’t exactly blame them. “Well... that was... interesting.” Louis gulped. “I hit a nerve… I think.” “You think?” He cried. “Bloody hell, Pip. I know you’re hurting, but don’t forget you live with the guy. You don’t want him hating you.” In a way, I did. At least if he hated me I could have some distance. If he hated me, he wouldn’t say nice things and tell me he was proud of me and make me feel so weak. Having Harry shout at me, had temporarily helped. I needed that. “Just talk about something else.” I sighed. “Anything else.” We set off walking slowly behind them, glad when they were out of sight since they were so far ahead, and Zayn held my hand down by my side, squeezing it tightly. They both knew I shouldn’t have snapped like I had, but they also understood exactly why I had. They both just felt so overwhelmingly sorry for me. I felt sorry for me, too. “Umm... My mum just booked for us to go on holiday.” Zayn shrugged. “Nice! Where?” Louis continued the conversation. “We’re just gunna get a ferry over to Amsterdam in November. Smoke and chill.” “It’s so cool that you can do that with your mum.” Louis chuckled. “She is the best.” I couldn’t really speak, I was just looking down to the pavement as Louis began asking what Zayn would experiment with whilst he was over there. I just wanted to turn around, to run home and go straight to bed. So instead of wishing I was in bed, I decided that was exactly where I should be. “Guys, I’m gunna go home.” I sighed. “You serious?” Louis sulked. “Yeah... I need it. I need to go. I’m sorry.” “I’ll walk back with you.” Zayn said sternly. “No. Just ignore me. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I turned back around before he could argue further, and they both watched me until I was out of sight, making sure I was okay in the only way I would let them. I didn’t cry, I didn’t really feel anything. I just did what I said I would. I went to bed. + + + There was a knock on my bedroom door at around 4am. I was quite easy to stir that night. I had been subconsciously waiting for the noises of them returning home. It was something I had always done, ever since Liam started going out when I was younger and we were still at home. I would wait for him to get home without fully meaning to, and I’d wake up easily just so I knew he was safe. So it didn’t surprise me that I was pretty much half-awake by the time there was a knock anyway. “Come in.” I groaned. I sat upright in my bed, tucking my knees up and tightening the sheets around me as Harry stepped coyly into my room, his hands behind his back. I was speechless. I hadn’t expected him to even want to interact with me the next day, never mind purposefully coming into my room just a few hours after I had belittled him in the street like I had earlier, before running home. He came and sat on the end of my bed, placing whatever he had in his hands down on the floor before he turned so he was facing my way, eyes down on my duvet, hands clenched on top of his legs. I didn’t know what to say; I was choking on my apology because I was so damaged and I needed that little outburst, but I kept thinking about how I had hurt his feelings, and that was the last thing I wanted. Thankfully, Harry had something to say himself. “Y’know how hard it was? Growing up with two dads?” I finally looked up at him, staring at his sad little eyes, concentrating entirely on the way he was struggling, his lack of confidence. I’d never seen him quite like that. Not even when he spoke about his mother. “No.” I whispered. “I was… a victim. From day one.” He continued. “Because of my dads, to some people, it was their excuse and reason to… attack me. I was bullied, so badly. People just saw me as a joke, and I had no idea what to do. All I got, for fucking years, was gay jokes. People treating me like fucking dirt just because they thought I was gay. Just because my parents are gay. Because… some fucking idiots view that as a bad thing. And it was so hard because… I’d had... years of abuse from my mother. Then as soon as I thought I could… have this new life, I… Fuck. As soon as I thought I was safe, I got abuse elsewhere.” My throat was so tight. I really wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to rub my thumb over his fingers and just cradle him, to let him know he was safe and I was there for him. It was so easy to brush over all the things he had been through. He was so confident and strong, you would have never known. “I’m sorry.” I ached. “I felt like a target, and that’s how a lot of people treat me. So… I started fighting back. Literally.” He breathed. “That’s when the fighting started. I used to fight all the time. It got to the stage where… every time someone said anything to me, I’d just flip. That was the only way I knew how to… deal with it. It got less common as I got older, because people were scared of me. I’d… fought and hurt so many people, I got a reputation for myself. Then after that, girls started... looking at me differently and... It was perfect. Anyone I wanted, I got. Suddenly people stopped using me as a punching bag. So... It’s not that I have an issue with my masculinity. I have an issue with people who have issues with masculinity. With people who see being gay as a weakness, or a fault. With people who… have one image of what a family is, and fucking freak out about anything that’s different. I know... I know what it looks like, when I get all defensive but... I dunno. After everything that happened to me... it… It’s just what I’m like.” The answer seemed so obvious. I couldn’t believe I’d never thought of it in such simple terms. I knew slightly about the way he was with females thanks to when he had told me about his power issues, but this just explained so much. I had never known Harry had been bullied, on top of every other struggle he had when he was growing up. “Harry... I’m sorry.” My voice was achingly quiet. “I didn’t mean to upset you I-” “You didn’t upset me.” He tutted. “What upset me, was the thought that you think I’m one of those guys. I hated that. You’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone, and I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking that I was like that. It’s just... What I got used to. I still think I need to protect myself.” My instinct kicked in and I couldn’t stop myself any longer, and reached out and took his hand in mine, and he finally looked up at me. He seemed free of something. I wasn’t sure he had ever told someone the full truth before. I was so glad he had decided to open up to me about it, even if our means of getting to that moment weren’t the best. He had finally been completely honest, not just to me, but to himself. A weight had been lifted. “Thank you.” I shuddered. “For telling me. I can’t imagine what you went through.” He nodded, squeezing my hand a little tighter, and I was glad to know that I was still the person he chose to open up to, even if the foundations of our friendship were completely different to how they had been. ”Anyway, the reason I came here.” He said, leaning down by the bed. “Was to give you this.” He passed me a camera. An Olympus Stylus 1s digital camera, which must have cost him well over £200. My mouth went completely dry as my fingertips devoured the feel of it, before I practically threw it back at him. “No. No, Harry, I can’t take this!” I gasped. “You’ve seen my camera collection, Pip. You know I have plenty. If I’m the one who got you taking pictures again, then I want to be the one who makes sure you’re doing it right.” “I can’t!” “You can, and you will. Please take it.” He held it out for me, and I knew it wasn’t worth arguing with him. He was too stubborn. He wouldn’t budge. I stared at it for a while, and then gently took the weight from his hands. I’d never owned something so extraordinary in my life. Even when I was really into my photography, I had never actually owned a camera as good as that one, and Harry was handing it to me like it meant nothing. It meant everything. “I don’t know what to say.” I was close to tears. “Say you won’t give it up this time.” I looked deep into those gorgeous green eyes of his, and whenever I had felt that certain churn in my stomach previously, I had closed the small gap between us and just kissed him. I wished, more than ever before, that I could kiss him then. “I promise.” I whispered. “Okay. I gotta go.” He squeezed my hand. “Minnie’s waiting for me.” “Okay. Thank you.” “Don’t mention it, Pip. See you tomorrow.” “Goodnight.” He got up and left my room, and I was so awe of the moment we had just shared, I used all my might to try and ignore the fact that he had gone downstairs, to share a bed with his girlfriend.