Five Hearts In One Home
As soon as you know it, I’ve walked in Harry’s childhood.
My sweaty palms become drenched, my heart thumping in my chest, my lungs squeezing tighter and tighter. They can’t be that bad right? I’m just a friend. Nothing’s going on between us. It’ll be fine. Maybe.
I can’t think or look straight.
I attempt to take deep breaths in and out, disregarding the fact that I’m in Harry’s childhood home. Slowly, I glance up, and it looks like the whole world staring and me and Harry.
“Hello, mum!” Harry says, trying to take the tension in the room. It works. Harry and his mother prance at each other taking in a bear hug. You can tell they’re close. I can’t remember the last time I saw a close family.
“Hello, Harry!” She weeps. This is beautiful. They hold each other for some time, making my heart melt. They sway from side to side, Harry rubbing her back. It must be hard letting your child go off into the world at such a young age. I mean it would shatter my heart. Of course, I’m not his mum, but I can just tell it would be the same for her. The way they caress each other, planting kisses anywhere they can in the moment, is so beautiful. I wish I could freeze this moment in a frame to keep reliving it. I’d replay it over and over.
My lungs loosen, heart softens as the ask if they’re okay over and over again. They retreat looking at one another for moments before all eyes are on me.
I guess I spoke too soon.
My organs clench up again, my throat becomes dry. I freeze. I’m petrified. His mother, Anne smiles. Maybe it’s my hair she smiling at? I mean I’m just a random girl who just so happens to be friends with her son. “This must be the Blossom Harriet." She smiles. I have too many questions.
How does she know my name?
Why isn’t she already dreading the fact I’m in her house?
Why didn’t she just ignore me?
The questions replay in my head as I peek my head up at Harry. He notices, smiles and nods.
Let’s just release.
God, Emma will be proud.
“Yeah, nice to meet you! You must be Anne, I’m Blossom. It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Harry’s friend. We met in a par-”
Not so proud*
I stop myself from speaking any more before it’s turns into a life-long ramble. Let’s not release and improvise. Let’s think it out. It can’t get worse, can it? Anne, gives a warm, welcoming smile, just as Harry would, and chuckles. “I know who you are,” She walks up to me so I look straight at Harry. I look back at Anne and she loosely holds my arms “Harry doesn’t stop talking about you.” She chuckles again.
“Mum!” He shouts, walking to the kitchen.
“He does,” She whispers. I give a chuckle that sounded forced- it wasn’t forced. “So, how are you?” I begin to answer as I hear footsteps come downstairs. Who is that? Why is that? Harry’s in the kitchen, Annes here.
That only means one thing.
Harry’s sister, Gemma.
“Who do we have here?” She asks, walking up beside Anne. This is so, so nerve-wracking.“Ohhh. Are you that Blossom girl he keeps blabbing on about?” I stay frozen, unable to move. All of Harry’s family is in my face. How could I not be nervous?
“She is, look how beautiful she is!” I blush at her words, she takes my hands and rubs them. “Blossom, this is Gemma,” Anne says as if she’s known me for months.
“It’s lovely to finally meet the Blossom he’s been talking about. He always talks about how pretty your eyes are, or how beautiful your perfect your hands are. Or how he loves your smile, your personal--” We all scatter, pretending we weren’t talking about him as we see Harry walk back from the kitchen. “Don’t tell him I said that,” She gives the same welcoming smile and walks away.
“What’s going on?” Harry asks. He looks at me and smiles.
Another part of this I’m dreading.
The house is beautiful, everyone inside the house is beautiful (except for me).
Within the 20 minutes I’ve known his family, they are the nicest people I know. They are all less of “you-are-a-puppy-look-how-cute” towards me now. More of “Let’s-actually-get-to-know you”.
I’ve made so many mistakes, though. They were talking about Harry always talks about me. (I bet they’re only trying to be nice). But I muttered to myself and said “I’m going to blow up this place.” whilst looking around. I said it a bit too loud as they looked as if I just killed someone.
I went red and freeze.
Harry was the only one not to be scared because he takes me to his childhood bedroom.
Which is where we are now, mid-way up the staircase.
“Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. They probably think I’ve killed at least 4 people.” I whisper as we walk up the last steps. He doesn’t reply. He probably hates me. He turns and smiles. Okay, maybe not hate. He very widely dislikes me though.
I walk through the door of his bedroom. I imagine him loving this as a kid. The desk, I imagine him writing whilst he listens to music. It’s a perfect kid’s room.“Woah,” I mutter. I should probably stop doing that before someone calls the police on me.
Harry smiles once again. “Love, you do know they don’t hate you? You’re a human. Human makes mistakes.” He smiles.
“Well then, they probably think I’m an alien trying to blow up the house! And BOOM, I’m out of here.” He chuckles at my mini-story.
“I’ll go explain to them everything." He opens the door to leave. “You go... explore.”
And he’s out the door as if he were never there.