Whispers

Harry didn’t say a thing. He stared at the road, one hand on the drivers wheel, clutching it so tight that his knuckles were turning white with the strain. No amount of comfort, words or affection could convince him not to drive. Harry wanted to drive, and that was final. Rae had lost that battle. She also lost the battle of having music on in the car.

So they drove in silence.

Rae was undecided if she was scared to break the silence because Harry would continue to ignore her or if she was scared to break the silence because she thought he would go into a blinding rage and scream. Looking at his blank expression and working jaw, she was convinced it could go one of two ways.

The scenery blurred past them as they neared his house. She thought that maybe he would plan on driving to her house, but it seemed he was going to drop himself off and let her go her own way. She certainly didn’t see and invitation to stay so far.

When they arrived at his house, he got out the vehicle as soon as he had parked. He kept it running, and Rae bowed her head slightly, biting her lip. Looked like she wasn’t staying long. So she got out, slowly walking to the back where Harry was getting his things.

As he shut the trunk, she gave him a look. He finally stopped, making an exasperated sound. “I really don’t want to do this right now, Rae.”

“Do what? You haven’t said anything.”

“There isn’t anything to say.”

“Harry, your father has just passed away. Don’t tell me there is nothing to say.”

He clenched his jaw. She saw the edge of his jaw flex with the movement. “Fine, here is something to say: my dad treated me like shit and now he is dead, and my girlfriend is picking a fight with me because she expects me to cry boo fucking hoo in front of her.”

“Harry.”

“I think it’s because she wants some sort of consolation that I’m not a total robot,” he continued, his voice getting edgier and gaining sarcasm as he went. “But we all know that she isn’t going to get it, and she’s just going to get mad and continuing waiting for the tears.”

“Fine,” she growled, shoving past him. “You want to be an ass because you want me to leave? I’ll do that. Next time just ask instead of being a total dick.”

Rae got in and slammed the door. She felt her heart sink slightly as she did so, but she did exactly what he wanted her to do, and she went home without saying another word to him. He hadn’t even stood there and waited for her to leave, either. He simply walked into his house.

At home, Rae drank a glass of wine while unpacking her clothes, waiting for Trystan to come home from work. It was a few hours before her blonde friend was sat on her bed, a glass of wine in her hand and listening to Rae recount the weekend as well as the horrible news.

Everyone in their group of friends seemed to know already according to Trystan, but apparently Harry had turned off his phone, a fact that Rae had missed on the silent drive home. So it wasn’t just her that he wanted to shut off either. A classic move by Harry.

“You shouldn’t have left him.” Rae closed her top drawer with more force than was required to close it. Turning to Trystan, she raised a single eyebrow, etched in annoyance. “What, Rae? You shouldn’t have. You got mad at him and left. Ever think he was shutting you out because he wanted you to claw your way in?”

“I just got my nails trimmed.”

“You can be such an ass sometimes and you don’t even know it.” Trystan got up, scowling. “You want Harry to talk to you, but you feed into him getting angry and you get haughty. You want to complain to me about it and want my advice, but get haughty with the truth. Shut up and listen to someone for once.”

“Yeah. I’ll add that on ‘Personal Flaws To Work On’.”

“Honestly, it’s like you think you’re entitled to people giving you what you want. You’re not.” Trystan walked out the room. “Earn it.”

For a long time, Rae stood there. She was mad, and she was hurt, and she was being stubborn. Finishing her glass of wine, she flicked the lights off and went to her bed, crawling in it and shutting off her phone. And just like both Harry and Trystan seemed to want her to do, she shut up.

Several hours later, she woke up in the middle of the night, dazed and confused. She had fallen asleep too early to sleep all the way through the night. Scratching her head, she glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning. Glancing at her phone, she decided to turn it on.

No texts from Harry and definitely no voicemails. So he was still giving her the silent treatment.

Clicking the button, she listened to a single voicemail from Niall. “So I’m at Louis’,” he started, drawling. “And apparently you’re being a tosser. So you should give me a call because I’m the only one who has sympathy and is ready to get ice cream or whatever it is you girls do.”

Rae lay in bed for thirty minutes before grabbing her phone again and calling Niall. She knew it was in the middle of the night, but he was offering his company, and if Harry and Trystan weren’t going to offer it, she might as well take what she could get.

That was how Rae ended up sitting on Niall’s couch, offering up the ice cream she had taken from her own freezer as tithe to sit on Niall’s couch and feel a little less lonely while a god awful action moving was blasting on his flat screen. Niall was wide away in boxers and shirtless, hair sticking up in all different directions.

“Do you sleep?” Rae questioned, scanning him as he double dipped a spoon into the carton of ice cream. She decided that she didn’t want it back. “Also, what is your aversion to bowls?”

“I offered to hang out with you, but if you go getting haughty with me you can go back home.”

“I’m really sick of being called ‘haughty’.”

“Then don’t be mates with people who call it like they see it.” She made an annoyed sound. “Look Rae, you’re mad because Harry is shutting you out and you’re scared that he’s upset, right?”

“Right.”

“So why in the bloody hell would you do what he wants?”

“Because it’s what he wants?”

“Harry wants things that are self-destructive.”

“I can’t force him to talk to me.”

“So don’t force him.” He grabbed the remote and paused the movie on the screen. He faced her, crossing his legs and setting the ice cream carton in his lap. “Agent Fury didn’t force the Avengers to go after Loki when he was attacking New York City. He let them find motivation in their anger and feelings.”

“I literally have no idea what that means.”

“It means you can’t force Harry to talk, he’s going to talk when he finds the motivation because he is angry and upset.”

“Should I be taking notes?”

He pointed the spoon at her. “Haughty.”

Rae was silent, looking at her hands. “You’re right. I’m being stubborn because I’m not getting what I want, and the alternative to what I want is scary.”

She got up and grabbed her keys, moving past Niall. “Give Harry my condolences, and let him now I’m here when he’s ready.” Rae was half way out of the door when Niall added, “And I would have to clean the bowl afterward!”

No lights were on at Harry’s. Rae had to use her key to get in the house. At first it was hard to find him, so much so that she wondered if he was even home. It was only by chance that she realized he was in the study, which he never really used. She saw the light on under the door, faint.

Opening the door quietly, she stuck her head in. The source of light was a desk lamp. Harry’s back was to her, hunched over a book as he sat at a desk reading. The light cast long, dark shadows in the room. He didn’t even look up or tense when she walked in, completely unresponsive.

Standing next to him, she recognized the text in his hands as his copy of The Great Gatsby. He was re-reading it for the millionth time. He highlighted a line: ”You always have a green light that burns at the end of your dock.”

Very quietly, Harry said, “He always had a desk light burning in his office. I knew he was home when I would come out and check to see if the light was on. I don’t think his desk lamp will come on, anymore.”

Rae felt everything crashing down on her, like Harry’s voice had risen up and caused an avalanche in the caverns of her heart. Cold, is what it was. “Oh, Harry.” For the first time since Rae had told Harry of his father’s suicide, he let Rae run her fingers through his hair, stroking them methodically and with feeling. “Baby.”

Harry tucked his head into her side quietly, just like a baby.