I don’t know why I came back tonight. Could’ve stayed out there, in the rain, feeling nothing. Maybe I should’ve. It’s better than this.

The second I walked into the house I felt it—that heavy silence pressing down on my chest. You were sitting at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around her mug like you were clinging onto it for dear life. Your eyes went straight to me. They always do. Like you’re searching for something in me that isn’t there.

I went to the fridge just so I didn’t have to look at you. Didn’t even care what I was looking for. Just… needed to keep my hands busy. Needed to pretend I wasn’t here.

“Harry…” you said my name so softly it almost broke me. Almost.

I froze. Fuck. Why do you say my name like that? Like you love me or something.

“Where’ve you been?” you asked. Her voice was quiet, like she was scared to set me off.

“Out,” I muttered. My voice didn’t even sound like mine. Felt like it belonged to someone else. Someone cold.

You stood up slowly, took a step closer. I could feel your warmth even from across the room. It made my skin crawl. Not because I hated it. Because I wanted it too much. And I didn’t understand why. My body needed it and my mind rejected it.

I was never shown physical or emotional affection as a child.

“You’ve been gone for hours, Harry. I was worried.”

That word – worried – pissed me off. Or scared me. I don’t know. It twisted something in my chest and I didn’t like it.

“Don’t… don’t do that,” I spat out before I could stop myself.

“Don’t do what?”

“That.” I finally looked at you. Fuck. Your eyes were so soft, so full of something I couldn’t understand. “Don’t act like you care. Like you… love me or whatever. Just… don’t.”

You looked like I’d slapped you. Your mouth parted, tears glossing over your eyes. “Harry… I do fucking love you. I care about you more than anything. Why would you say that?”

I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt like it was caving in. My hands started shaking so I clenched them into fists, nails digging into my palms.

“You don’t… you don’t understand,” I said, voice breaking. Fuck. I hate when my voice does that. Makes me sound weak. “I don’t… I don’t know how to… I can’t do this, okay?”