Safe & Sound

“My offer still stands,” Harry whispers on their descent from the room, careful not to speak too loudly and wake the sleeping child they’ve just put down.

Kennedy shuts the door behind them softly and lets him take her hand. “I had a feeling it still would.”

“But you won’t take it.”

“I need to do this on my own.” His gentle tug on her arm leads her towards the living room couch. “Besides, having you there might…”

She trails off as he sinks down into the cushions and lets her take her spot against his side.

“Might what?” he urges.

In fear that her reasoning seems ridiculous, she bites down on her lip. “It might upset her.”

Much to her surprise, rather than poke fun at her for even considering that his presence may anger her mother like it used to, he sighs. His fingers brush against her bare arm in comfort.

“Aren’t you going to tease me?” Kennedy smirks, “I made that one too easy for you.”

“No, I understand,” he tells her, “She never did like me much. I can't imagine anything's changed.''

It’s quiet for a while as she glances up at his face. The disappointment is written all over it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“All I ever wanted was to show her---both of them---how much I care about you.” He takes a deep breath, mostly to catch himself from saying more. He feels uneasy speaking ill of those who’ve passed. “I guess one out of two isn’t bad.”

“It was her loss that she never gave you a chance.”

Harry looks down at her, taking in her smile despite the sadness that lingers on it. After a moment, he presses a kiss to her forehead and holds onto her tighter.

“Besides, I think it’s a curse that neither of us are liked by the parents,” Kennedy says, barely audible.

He creases his eyebrows together in confusion. “What are you talking about? My mum and dad love you.”

“I don’t think your stepdad does.” She remains hidden against his chest so he can’t see the embarrassment in her eyes.

His grip tightens. “Don’t mind him, alright? He just cares a bit too much sometimes.”

“I don’t understand.”

She feels Harry take a deep, shaky breath before speaking.

“He thinks we’re moving too fast,” he explains, “At the party, my mum told me he was happy we’d gotten back together, but he’s afraid it’s for the wrong reasons. Like we’re just doing it for Addie’s sake, not because of our own feelings. Neither of them told me what was going through his mind tonight, but I’m sure he’s angry about the news. He thinks…”

Like hers did just moments before, his words silence as if they've been written off the page.

“You can say it,” she tells him.

“He thinks you’ll leave again,” he admits quietly, “Or that there are more things I don’t know about. He thinks we all gave you our trust back too easily.”

Slowly, she straightens her back out so she can look him in the eye. She doesn’t blame Robin for doubting her this way. After all of the mistakes and everything she’s lied about, it’s a wonder that the rest of the Styles family didn’t banish her completely.

“I’m not going to leave again,” she tells him.

“Kenn, you don’t need to defend yourself. I already know you won’t.”

“I’ve always thought I didn’t deserve your forgiveness as easily as I got it and you know that, Harry,” she whimpers, “But honestly, I swear on my life, there are no more secrets.”

“Stop it. Don’t do this.” He reaches his hand up to the side of her face to strengthen his pleas. “He’ll realize what we’ve all realized soon enough. It’s just taking him a bit of time, that’s all.”

Her anxiety is obvious and it pains him that he’s caused it. He regrets telling her about his stepfather’s feelings. He wouldn’t have if he’d known it was going to worry her so deeply, and he should have known.

“Be honest with me. Would you still want this if we didn’t have Addie?” she asks, terrified of his answer already, “Would you still want me?”

“Are you mad?” He searches her eyes for a hint that she’s joking, but he sees she’s being absolutely honest. Swiftly, he turns his torso in her direction, taking her anxious face in his both of his hands. “Yes, you silly girl. Of course, I would still want you. How could you ask something like that?”

“Because maybe Robin’s right, Harry. Maybe we are only doing this because of her.”

“Are you?” he asks.

It takes a moment, but she’s sure of her response.

“No.”

“Then, we have nothing to worry about because neither am I.” He loses his fingers between strands of her hair. “I wanted this before Addison. I wanted you. I still want you. In more ways than one, believe me…”

He chuckles, but it’s a breathless one. So breathless, it’s evident that this particular want is unlike most others.

“Listen. My mum and dad and Gemma never questioned it because they could see how we felt about each other long before Addie ever came along. All Robin has to base his feelings on are stories and what he’s been told. Trust me on this, Kenn. He's wrong.”

Kennedy’s eyes water against her will. “I just don’t want to think of what could happen if he’s right.”

As if he’s taken a look inside her head, he suddenly sees glimpses of what scares her. He sees them growing apart, fighting, separating and divorcing, living a life of child support and visitations for Addison and a failed marriage that was based on obligation rather than love. It’s easier for him than for her to shut out such horrifying images.

“That won’t be us, I promise you that,” he assures her.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because,” he smiles, “We wouldn’t have come this far if we didn’t have something. There’s no way this isn’t real and I know you know that, too.”

Slowly, she feels him beginning to win her over to his side of an optimistic future.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, leaning into her.

She nods, feeling his breath on her skin. “Yes.”

“And you love me.”

It warms her to hear that it wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” she confirms.

“Then, that’s all that matters.”

“What about how you feel?”

She can feel him lowering her down against the arm of the couch and she’s enthralled in his every move as if it’s hypnosis.

“I don’t need to tell you how I feel. You already know.”

She gulps, suddenly deaf to the words that escape her without her consent. “Can you show me?”

The request surprises him; she can feel it in how he stares. Little does she know that his heart has just sped up to phenomenal pace. He knows exactly what she means, as he always has when she's too shy to spell it all out. This time, however, it's a bit different. It's not just shyness that hinders her.

''I want you to,'' she tells him softly.

He gulps, feeling the sudden dryness of his throat. ''Are you sure you're ready after what---''

''I trust you. I know it won't be anywhere near that.''

''Of course not. God, thinking about it just...'' If his hands weren't busy hovering himself up above her, he'd hold onto her as hard as humanly possible just to make sure she's still here with him and not back at that party that makes both of them shudder at the mere thought.

''Please, Harry, I don't want to think about that anymore. I want to think about you.''

Gently, she tilts herself upward and kisses him. He can taste the longing on her skin, but he knows she's not overly forward in any way because he can also taste fear.

''I want you to tell me,'' he warns desperately, ''if I do anything that's not okay or if you're uncomfortable or if...'' The thought makes him tremble against her. ''Or if I hurt you.''

Each of them considers the parallels between this conversation and the one they had when they were much too young and vibrant and running on hormones up in Kennedy's bedroom. But these warnings against this kind of pain this time around are far graver. Rather than brush them off as the norm like she did last time, Kennedy nods in acceptance because she knows that it's a likely possibility that being touched in such a way may take her back to that night in an instant. There's a chance, but both of them know there will always be a chance. These scars can never heal. Harry can only try his best to show her she's still beautiful with them, and that's what he plans to do.

''I know it's something you're not used to feeling,'' he whispers with his forehead pressed to hers, ''But I promise you're safe here.''

It's a difficult level to reach, but if she concentrates hard enough, she can feel herself becoming convinced enough to let go. She can feel her hands slowly reaching for the hem of his shirt, and as the evening goes by, with each garment that gets peeled off, strangely her fingers begin to shake less.

She's self-conscious in front of him at first, despite them sharing memories of this already happening on many other occasions. It feels different this time around. She feels different because she's changed, and in her mind it's not for the better.

Moreover, Harry's certainly bettered. He's broader now. More toned in places that he was only boyishly lean before. He's stronger and the more he proves it to be true, the more she sees experience really has matured him.

That much has her feeling inadequate below him. She wonders why he would want her. What makes him want what she believes to be ''used goods?'' Spoiled. Recycled. Unpure. Others took advantage of this body, and yet he treats it as if it's brand new. He touches her like she's made of delicate glass, running his fingers along every inch of her that he's missed these long years. He makes her do something she has never, ever been able to do: forget what went on at that party.

''I love you,'' she tells him and he knows it's true, especially in this raw vulnerability she's allowed him to see her.

She realizes that after everything she's tried to put that night behind her---ignoring it, pretending it never happened, even confronting it until she's on the brink of tears---none of the strategies could have done what he's done.

She never could be convinced that someone could heal her in such a way until Harry came along and proved it.