Insidious.

When I wake up Harlow is standing at the foot of my bed. Her eyes are fixated on my lower half and I don't think that she realizes I am awake. I clear my throat and her eyes briefly meet mine and go back to where they had previously been fixated.

I want to toss a blanket over myself, but at the same time I don't want to disappoint her.

"Harlow?" I say.

She mumbles a 'Hmph' and I know I have a small portion of her her attention.

"What day is it?" I ask.

"Tomorrow," she says.

I've been asleep for close to twenty-four hours. Harlow is still looking between my legs.

"Will you look at me?"

She does.

"What are you doing here?"

She crawls up the bed and lays down next to me. Her hand draws patterns on my chest and I breathe in deep.

"Your sister let me in. She said you were asleep so I came in and watched. I hope you don't mind."

I shake my head. "No, I just feel uncomfortable when you stand there and stare at my dick for extended periods of time."

I hope she doesn't feel bad, and she doesn't.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I won't do that again."

I close my eyes and I think she does too and we both fall asleep.

Two hours later I hear Harlow moving around in my room and I ask her what she is doing.

"I wanna go out, Zachary," she tells me. "Let's go out, yeah?"

I shrug. "Okay."

I always does what she asks me to. Most of the time. I only stop when I remember that the things I do for this girl can hurt her. That I'm doing her more harm than I am a favor. This doesn't cross my mind and the moment.

I pull on a pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt (not the band) and Harlow slides on a skirt that she left at my house a few weeks ago. I doesn't bother us that it hasn't been washed. I don't think Harlow has ever cared about those things.

I let her take my hand and lead me out of the room.

"I forgot my shoes," I tell her.

Harlow shrugs and looks up at me with a smile. "So did I."

"Do you want to go get some?" I ask her.

"No," she says. "Lets go barefoot."

~*~

I watch her on the swings and remember how much I actually care about her. I forget about all the bad stuff, like the fact that she drinks too much and I'm constantly getting high. I ignore the fact I want to get high again.

I watch Harlow swing back and forth on the swing. Back and forth. Back and forth.

I wonder how she doesn't get dizzy, and I figure that it doesn't matter.

"Swing with me, Zachary!" She shouts.

I shake my head and say no. "I'm not very good."

Harlow jumps off of the swing and runs over to where I'm seated next to the sandbox and tackles me to the ground. My hands find the familiar territory of her waist and her hair brushes over my nose.

I remember how much I love her, and how she doesn't know this just yet.

"It doesn't matter Zachary," she tells me.

Her breath smells like cherry pie. It doesn't smell like alcohol. I am happy.

"Okay."

I give in because as far as I can remember this is the first time we've both been sober.