[godric's hollow] come in with the rain. [tag; lorin]

This was getting silly.

Two weeks. A fortnight. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty six hours since the last time she'd spoken to him properly. Honestly? Harvey was upset. A near-death experience had the strange tendency to shift things into a clearer focus. He'd done what she'd asked him to do. He'd helped her escape. In the grand scheme of things, he needn't have bothered because the school had literally ripped itself apart.

Then there was that kiss.

He wasn't sure what had sparked it in either teenager. They'd never crossed that line. Puberty had hit them both like a sledge hammer. In all the years they'd known each other, that had been the first and only inappropriate touch that had been shared between them. Did he fancy Lorin? Absolutely. She was beautiful. Her pale skin and dark hair conjured up the traditional English rose-esque stereotype and  he certainly didn't miss when she wore lipstick but had that been his problem? Never telling her that she was beautiful?

Chewing on a hangnail, Harvey paced up and down his bedroom floor. He'd called at Lorin's family's cottage daily, often more than once. Each time, there was no answer. He'd seen the curtains twitching so clearly it was inhabited. He woke early, hoping to catch her either in the town centre or the park or the post office. Hell, to catch her anywhere would be a blessing. The hamlet was small and there weren't many places to hide but Lorin Odell was doing a pretty damned good job.

Harvey had posted letters through the front door. He'd even wrote letters and sent them from different locations, using his left hand to disguise his handwriting as he was convinced the brunette knew his lettering and simply refused to open them. She was driving him insane.

Harvey was wracked with guilt. Guilt that Lorin thought he didn't care, guilt that he hadn't been around when she needed him and guilt that he'd done a shitty thing. He shouldn't have taken advantage. He should not have kissed her back but it felt nice. He'd made mistakes and even though he'd treated her poorly, she still seemed able to see the good in him. He'd lost his head and he was struggling to stay afloat, his legs treading water as he tried not to drown. He'd felt wanted, warm, comforted. This was not her fault.

Enough.

Harvey stopped suddenly and opened his bedroom door, creeping down the stairs as quietly as he could as not to wake anyone. He paused to slip on his shoes and pull on a navy blue jumper before closing the front door behind him softly. It was cold outside. It was late, a little after Midnight as Harvey trudged down the quaint little path and onto the main high street. Off he went down the dark streets and past the ancient church. Past the chocolate box cottages, covered with ivy. Past the cheery high street. Then there was her house.

The walk had taken two minutes and he squinted at the windows. The lights were off. The Gryffindor sighed deeply. He moved slowly, trying to minimise the sounds his feet made as he crept down the path to the back of the house. His big hands were placed on the fence and with the grace of a gymnast, he hopped over it and landed clumsily on the other side.

With a grunt of pain and a mumbled swear word, he righted himself in a rustle of leaves and the meow of a neighbour's cat. "Oh piss off, Freddie," Harvey hissed at the fat ginger tomcat who continued to meow at him, even as the tall boy shooed him away. "Ow," he winced as he rubbed his elbows as he padded around the back of the house, his strides small as he fumbled blindly in the dark. Thank goodness the full moon was out. It cast part of the garden in a silvery light that guided him and he counted the windows until he stood below hers.

"Lorin!" Harvey hissed, disturbing the still night air. "Lorin?" He asked, unsure if she was fast asleep. Bending at the waist, he scooped up a handful of small stones and tossed one at the window. It bounced, ricocheting off the glass and smacking him in the forehead. "Ow!" The tall boy moaned as he clapped a hand over his left eye. "Oh Freddie, sod off!" He hissed at the cat who was now slithering between his legs casually, even as he poked the cat with the tip of his boot gently to move him along.

He threw another stone. "Lorin!" Harvey whispered, sounding increasingly desperate. "This is getting to be a little bit Romeo and Juliet," he complained. "Come on, open up. I know you're in there. I fell over your garden fence. I need medical attention. And Freddie won't leave me alone," he said in a stage whisper as the chubby cat looked pleased with itself, its green eyes glinting in the moonlight.


@Lorin Odell

Lorin felt like a fool. She's put so much energy into planning her escape, and in the end it was for nothing. It meant nothing, and now everyone knew how desperate and scare she had been. How was she going to face them again in March when she returned to school? She knew she would go in with her head held high, as if nothing phased her. She would act like a lady for the next few months and find herself a Hogwarts alumna.. but it would be hell, and she knew that. She was afraid of the whispers, afraid of facing her friends again. She was afraid of facing Harvey the most, though.

She had really messed things up there, and she couldn't help but regret it, but not for the reasons one might think. Lorin didn't regret kissing him. It had been nice. He'd kissed back. It felt good and made her feel a little less scared. It made her feel wanted, as kisses always did. It made her feel, for a moment, that they were closer than they really were. She felt like he cared about her for the first time in a long time. No, the reason she regretted it was that the kiss had been meant to claim him. She had jealously tried to make Harvey hers, but it was clear he wasn't. His affections belonged to other girls, and she knew it. He couldn't belong to her, and one kiss changed nothing, saved nothing. They had been falling apart for years now. Why would she think that her last desperate plea would do her any good?

So, she did the only thing she knew how to do. She avoided him completely. She didn't want to hear his apologies, his rejection, his explanation. She wanted to save the kiss and lock it away into the back of her mind for a day when she felt unloved... but could she? It was tainted with reality. She tried not to cry. She was stronger than this, and would emerge unruffled the way she always did. She just needed to be alone for awhile, first. She needed to train herself to let go of her feelings and let go of her dreams. The longer she was away from him, the less it hurt.

Of course, Harvey hadn't made this easy. He seemed unable to understand that she knew what he wanted to say. He called every day, sent letters, and had even been spotted in town haunting her regular hangouts. She knew that things were clearly bothering him, too, but she wasn't ready to deal with his emotions as well as her own. She was afraid of it. She was afraid of the cruel things he'd say, the dismissals. She did not want the kiss dismissed. She did not want it to go away. She wanted it to work, despite herself and despite logic.

It was past midnight, and Lorin was in bed but not asleep. She was thinking, about Harvey, about school, about Seth, and about everything. It was so hard to get to sleep lately, with so much fear. She was haunted by the memories of the monsters roaming the halls. She was haunted by the memories of the fire and of losing everything. She had lived through such a horrifying, awful thing that she found herself unable to believe things were normal again. It seemed to her that a monster was due to come out of her closet any second.

The first time the stone struck her window, she felt her heart stop. She jumped visibly, and looked towards the window but saw nothing. She tried to settle back in, but something didn't feel right. The second time, she saw the stone. She carefully got up, straightening her nightgown as she went to the window. What she saw was worse than seeing a monster. It was Harvey, throwing rocks at her window to get her attention. She sighed, and opened the window. “Harvey, it's late...” She observed, pointing out something very obvious. He was right, though, it did seem a little Romeo and Juliet. “What's... oh. Come in, then. I'll get you patched up.”  She carefully made her way down the stairs to the front door, and unlatched it for him.

“You're... unbelievable. You know that, Harvey? Jumping my fence in the middle of the night. It's surprising you're not hurt worse...”

It was freezing cold. As he stood there, he could actually see a frost starting to form on the perfectly mown lawn that he was currently ruining. He stomped his feet and blew on his hands, rubbing them together to try and generate some warmth. Harvey strained his eyes to hear any signs of life. At best, he'd get Lorin's mother and at worst, her father; he had the patience to deal with neither.

But he knew Lorin. For all of her I'm-a-strong-independent-woman-who-doesn't-need-a-man bravado, she was sensitive. Much like himself, she retreated to lick her wounds and heal in private which was usually fine but she made it into a fine art. A fine art of emotional blackmail and self-loathing. Most women did. They turned off and shut down and never explained what it was what had made them upset. As a man, it was hopeless as he'd never figure it out by himself.

Harvey rolled his eyes at her comment but refrained from answering. It took all of his strength not to let slip a silly retort but there she was, bathed in a celestial glow.

"What light through yonder window breaks," Harvey replied lightly as he gazed up at her. She was too far away to read. They knew each other well and had she been close enough, he'd be able to read her "tell". That was the word he used when she let slip how she was feeling. Lorin tugged on her hair when she was nervous and her nostrils flared when she lied. She was right, though. It was late. Too late but what choice did she leave him? During daylight hours, she was able to see and while this was demonstrably creepy of him, he had no other option.

"Marvellous," came the cheery response as Lorin disappeared and he waited for her arrival. Harvey looked around the street, absently wondering how many people sleeping in their beds had nightmares like he did. How many of the inhabitants of the sleepy village continuously looked over their shoulder, three, four times before opening a door. How many were emotionally and physically damaged. How many had flashbacks. How many could smell the acrid stench of smoke and death. How many could feel phantom pain of broken glass slicing open their skin and the slow, cool trickle of blood that coagulated on the skin.

She looked tired, he noticed, as the door was opened and he frowned in response. His big brown eyes flicked  back and forth over her face as though trying to commit it to memory. Lorin had always been his lifeline. They shared a bond, a secret sort of friendship that no one else was allowed to join. She felt like home, she was an anchor, his support system but he wasn't sure if she felt the same any more.

"It's not like I had many other options." Harvey's words were soft and they were not accusing. This was how she dealt with things when her feelings were hurt. He shrugged his broad shoulder casually, ignoring the stinging pain on his left eyebrow were there was a small cut and a bruise readily forming.

He sighed heavily, wearily, as he looked at her with another frown. They stood in silence for a moment or two. Lorin was standing there looking pale and drawn, dressed in a nightgown. She must be freezing as she let all of the cold air into the hall way. He paused. He wouldn't invite himself into the Odell family home. Harvey didn't know if Lorin had told her parents about the past events and even if she had, how angry her dad would be about it all.

"What's going on, Lo?" The taller boy asked her directly. He had an inkling what the problem was. Her plan had backfired and she had her tail between her legs, much like Freddie who was still lurking. Her pride was hurt and she hadn't got what she wanted and things were all messed up. If he could pinpoint it, he'd be able to fix it.

Lorin focused her attention on the other's injuries, as that was something she would be able to fix. He had a scrape above his eyebrow that could use some peroxide, she thought. She was trying to pull away, distance herself from the feelings that laid between them. The confusing, painful, messed-up feelings. They had always been so close, before. Harvey was her second brother, almost, and she had went and messed that up. She closed her eyes in a very long-blink as the silence set between them.

“I'm sorry.” She began. “I've just wanted to be alone for the past few days.” Two weeks. That was more than just a few days, but she didn't want to tell him that she';d been intentionally avoiding him. It was rude. “Come in, out of the cold.” She suggested, keeping her voice hushed to stop from waking her parents. “Come up to my bathroom. I've got a potion that will work well on your cut.” She felt a sudden desire to lean in and kiss the wound to stop the pain. She didn't.

She closed the door behind them, shivering some in the chilly air. She let silence fall between them again, her hands running through her hair nervously, without even noticing. She had no idea what to say. She was ashamed of herself, but she didn't actually regret doing any of the things she'd done. In fact, she would have likely done them all again, had she been in the same situation. She was a coward. She was tired of the constant fear. She hadn't known that it would follow her back into the normal world in the form of flashbacks and nightmares. She didn't know that she'd be boxing shadows.

“I'm sorry.” She repeated, attempting to start conversation again. “I didn't mean  for things to come to this.” She was surprised that he was trying so hard, really. She had expected him to take the silence in stride and not care that she was avoiding him. Had it not been for their last meeting, and likely the kiss, he would almost certainly have not noticed. By this she meant more than one thing, but she didn't let that on. She meant that she hadn't expected him to have to try so hard to see her. She hadn't expected things to be so broken between them. She hadn't expected to hurt him the way she clearly had.

When she reached the bathroom, she directed him to sit on top of the toilet as she fussed over him. She cleaned his cut with peroxide, then applied the potion over the wound. She could see it visibly improve, and she gave him a little smile. “Anywhere else that you're cut up?” She asked, waving the potion around a little. “Let me take care of you...” That meant more than one thing, too.

Harvey nodded. She wanted to be alone. He hadn't wanted to let her. Was this why they were stuck like this? Warring? Each wanting different things? "You could have written," he said gently. He'd wanted to respect her boundaries so badly, especially after overstepping them so outrageously but he didn't think it was really fair. He was hurt and confused, too. This worked both ways. She'd bolted and she'd left him confused and floundering and without resolution because she wouldn't even look at him.

"And you're feeling better?" He asked, casting a quick eye over her once more. He and Lorin were like an elastic band. They could pull and pull away but eventually, they'd always come springing back to one another. That was them, that was how they worked.

There she went, fiddling with her hair and his heart dropped; he made her nervous. Things had taken a palpable shift and he could feel it, he could see it etched so clearly on her pretty face. If they wanted this friendship to remain intact, they'd both have to work on it. It was no longer effortless and easy. Perhaps they'd never be able to fully relax around one another but the kiss had happened and they just needed to move forward. Simple as.

"It was no one's fault," Harvey said quietly as she closed the door and he followed her, moving slowly and shifting position, avoiding the creaking wood. He remembered. The sixth stair up, right in the middle, creaked and it'd be loud enough to wake her parents. He didn't read any more into going upstairs and possibly into Lorin's bedroom. He wasn't about to jump on her. She had to know that, deep down. She was a smart girl.

Had she, he wondered, weighed up the pros and cons of a possible relationship? He hadn't. They were a complex pair. They were linked and intertwined, sharing secrets in a way that not many people did. Lorin was attractive but he didn't want to be with her like that and he was certain that she felt the same way, he just didn't want to say it in case she took it like a personal insult. It was a minefield. Did that wayward kiss give her hope? Or did she write it off like it was a mad moment in an insane time?

Harvey fell silent as he sat down as he was instructed. "Oh, motherfu-!" The Gryffindor refrained from completing the curse word as the sharp sting of the lotion hit his open wound. Holding his breath, he let it out in a low groan through pursed lips as he winced. "Ouch," he settled on eventually as he relaxed a little, ignoring the way his eyes watered ever so slightly. He scowled at her briefly, looking like a hurt bear before he managed to smile back.

"Nah I'm fine," he said in a whisper, trying to keep his voice down. The fact that she'd invited him in and still wanted to look after him was soothing almost. Leaning forward, he reached out and took the potion bottle out of her hand before taking her wrist, his long fingers enveloping her arm easily. "We're probably going to have to have a chat about --" Pausing, he struggled for the correct term. Transgression? Clandestine embrace? "That kiss." He might as well be truthful about it.

"Come on, sit down," he cajoled her, gesturing to the edge of the bath tub. "This wasn't a conversation I ever thought I'd have," Harvey joked with a lopsided grin as he squeezed her hand and then let it go. "It happened," he said breezily, as though their whole entire friendship wasn't teetering on the edge of a huge chasm. "And I liked it," he told her, honestly. "But you didn't need to run away," he told Lorin, his handsome face creasing with sadness in the dim light. "You made it seem like it was a colossal mistake or something."

Lorin knew what was coming, the inevitable rejection. She hated it, and wished that he would just go, now, and leave her alone again. She didn't want to hear his side of that kiss.  She knew that he didn't want to be with her, and it went without saying. If he had ever wanted that, he would've tried long before that moment. She just felt so unwanted. If Harvey didn't want her, after everything they'd been through, how could she expect anyone to? She had to fight back tears at the very thought of talking about things, but she fought them back and emptied herself of as much emotion as she could. She had let him in and now he was going to say his piece.

“Wasn't it, though?” She asked. Wasn't it a colossal mistake? “You don't feel that way about me.” She stated, before he could. It hurt less to say it herself; she would take it as a personal insult if it came from his lips. “Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I know that you don't. So, tell me how it wasn't a mistake? Tell me why I shouldn't hide.” She demanded, her words a little colder than she meant them. She was hurt, bitter, and upset. She had wanted it to pull him into her. She had wanted to make him belong to her. She didn't sit. She just stood there with his hand around her wrist, spiting him.

“We should go into my room.” She said, finally. Stiffly. “We can talk more openly, there, and it'll be more comfortable for us both.” She wanted to wrap herself in blankets and hide her face from his gaze. “I don't want to talk about it, Harvey, but if I have to I'd rather be comfortable.” That was likely the most honest she'd been all night. He had to know, to understand what her actions meant He had to know why she was avoiding him. It was this conversation, this very one that she yearned to avoid.

She moved towards the door, hoping that he'd follow her without any trouble. She was grateful for the moment looking away from his handsome face. She didn't want to lie to him, but she certainly couldn't tell him the truth. She couldn't tell him the way she felt, so confused and unsure. He knew her better than anyone, probably, and that's why it hurt so much. It proved what she had already suspected—that no one could love her, deep down. If they knew her, they'd think she was too much to handle. They'd find other girls more desirable. She resented that reality and longed to change it. She didn't want to hear his excuses and apologies.

Harvey winced.

It wasn't the way Lorin's face looked or the tone she'd used, it was the words. She was right. He wasn't sure how to categorize her. She was his best friend, almost like a sister but there had always been some sort of weird underlying tension. Was it his fault? Did she fancy him? Was he making it somehow worse?

"No," the Gryffindor replied but he had the decency to look her in the face. Harvey honestly didn't think he'd provided her with false hope and that he'd been carelessly stringing her along for years. He genuinely didn't. If she had feelings, they'd been mingled with something else. He frowned as he watched in her in the dim light of the bathroom. Even though she was upset, he was convinced he hadn't seen a more beautiful woman in his entire life. Lorin Odell could easily have been sculpted out of marble by Bernini himself.

She was shutting down again and Harvey heaved a deep, laboured sigh. "Because it's silly," he told her plainly. "Emotions were going haywire. The school was eating itself. Everyone inside the damned thing was stressed to buggery so come on, cut yourself some slack. We needed comfort. If I look advantage of you, I'm truly sorry." His deep voice sounded rough and strained, as though he was waging some sort of internal war and he was. He honestly had no idea how he could fix this.

He wanted to keep a respectful distance. He didn't want Lorin to relapse and maybe get the wrong idea but he also wanted to hold her. She was not as strong as she made out to be. Was the bad guy in this whole thing? A toxic mixture of guilt and confusion was swirling in his gut as he stared at his friend forlornly, getting to his feet and following her as quietly as he could.

He closed the door behind him with a soft click before crossing the room and sitting on the edge of her bed. Like true Harvey fashion,  he had a habit of making himself at home anywhere. "Listen," he said softly, urgently. He nervously wrung his long fingers through one another as he anxiously rubbed his palms together, his usually perfectly coiffed dark hair was ruffled and hanging into his eyes. The other boys in the village had warned him that Lorin would be the death of him but he could sort of see now that they weren't that wide of the mark.

"You're my best friend." He knew that was like rubbing salt into her wounds. It wasn't a comforting thing to be told and he was half expecting her to slap him. "I feel like I'm losing you and it's my fault, not yours," he insisted. He'd been chasing girls. He's been hanging out with his friends and neglecting her. He'd forgotten that, deep down, Lorin was a soft soul. "I've not been there for you when you needed me to be and I feel like you don't think you can come to me if you need anything." He watched her with another heavy-set frown.

"And I'm sorry," he repeated. He'd been so blindsided by lots of things and he only realised he missed Lorin now that she was no longer around. He'd taken their friendship for granted. "But come on," Harvey laughed hollowly. "I'm really trying here, Lorin. I don't know what you want from me any more." Honestly? He felt like she'd outgrown him.

Lorin turned away from him to hide the tears that stung the corners of her eyes. It was a complicated mess, and he was right about that. He just didn't seem to understand any of what she was feeling, any of what she'd been thinking, or any of what she wanted. She couldn't blame him, though, because she didn't understand half of it herself. She wasn't standing there in love with him, pining. She had never felt romantic for him before this, but hearing him agree that he didn't feel for her felt like a knife in the chest. Why wasn't she good enough? Wasn't she beautiful? Wasn't she smart, wasn't she well-behaved, wasn't she interesting?

Of course she wasn't. That was the only logical conclusion. She wasn't good enough for Harvey, and the reality of the situation cut deep. It had been her worry all along, though she wasn't sure the reason for it. She knew what she had hoped, what she had wanted. As she grew, she needed him to fill the gaps differently than she had before. If anyone could give her this, she thought it would have been him. He'd never let her down before this, and now she was letting him down.

Lorin had always been a complicated girl. She was hard as nails on the outside, tough to know and difficult to affect. She kept her emotions far from anything and made every move with careful, calculated precision. Deep down, however, she was very vulnerable, hurt, and searching for approval—especially from members of the male gender. Her father had been distant when she was a child, for reasons Lorin had yet to fully understand, but it affected her completely. She sought out that attention from her brother, Theoren, and was appeased when he was there to dote lavishly upon her, praising her and looking at her like she was his sun and stars.

When Theoren left for Hogwarts, it left Lorin miserable and desperate to find that feeling from someone else. That was when she met Harvey. Harvey, in his youth, had taken Theoren's spot. He had bridged the gap and he had followed her without question and for so long.

Then, the foundation of Lorin's world turned when she allowed her anger and spite to make decisions for her. She was too young to understand what she was doing when she took her first lover at thirteen. She wasn't ready for the changes it would make to her, to the way she saw the world. She learned that sex had power over men, the power to make them do ridiculous things, and the power to gain their full and undivided attention, and she reveled in this power. She took it into herself as an advantage, and she held it over everything in her life.  She never realized how much this killed in her—an innocence that she would never be able to get back, and her ability to form relationships based on anything else.

This complicated her relationship with Harvey a hundredfold. She didn't want him like a lover, not really, but she wanted him to be her boyfriend. That was very apparent to her, though the reason remained elusive. She could barely scratch the surface of it. If he was her boyfriend, she would know what she meant to him. She'd know she was admired, cared for. She would know that he didn't plan to leave. She would know that he valued her more than the other girls and differently than his other friends. She could be happy with him, she thought. He wasn't Seth, but that didn't matter. She had been to afraid to even reach out to the older boy over the holiday. She was prepared to give him up for the possibility of something stable with someone she trusted.

Conall had offered her this once, and she had turned it down because she didn't trust him—Harvey was different. He was her most trusted, oldest friend. She thought that she could relax with him, grow comfortable, grow old. She thought that the comfort of their relationship would someday make her love him the way she could never love Conall.

In this moment, however, she ached with the memory of someone who wanted to keep her. She didn't know if she'd ever find that again, and she doubted it. If Harvey, who once gave her anything she asked, could not give her his heart—who could? Seth hadn't written, hadn't called, hadn't come to throw rocks at her window..

She wiped her face with the back of her hand, still looking away.

“It was silly.” She agreed, though not to what he was really saying. He meant that it was silly to be upset. To her, it was silly to think one kiss would change anything. “But I didn't do it for comfort. If you know me at all, you know why I did it... and you know why I'm ashamed.” She managed.

“...but you're right. It is silly, to think that somehow you'd still be mine after all these years. I should have just let you go when you pulled away, but..” Her voice cracked. The tears threatened to fall again.

“...but tightening my grip comes easier to me than letting go, Harvey. It always has.” This felt like a goodbye. In some ways, it was. If anyone had outgrown anyone, he had outgrown her, and that was a bitter pill for Lorin to swallow. She didn't want him to leave her. She still needed him, even if he no-longer needed her. If he left, she had no idea what she would do.

“I thought that if...” She hesitated. “If I kissed you, that you would come back.” She couldn't believe she said the words aloud, them giving up so much of the cacophony in her chest.

“It was silly.” She repeated. “You were already gone.”

She finally turned back towards him. “Do you really want to be here, Harvey, or do you just feel obligated? I didn't think you would notice that I wasn't speaking to you. I didn't think you'd come. I thought you would've taken advantage of the out that I gave you.” She confessed.

“Do you love me?” She demanded. Of course he did. There was more than one kind of love, but Lorin couldn't wrap her head around it. Some part of her knew it. He said it in everything but the words themselves, but she didn't believe it. “If you do... why..” She couldn't say it. Her voice cracked again. Why? Why did he leave? Why wasn't she good enough?

Well, this was unravelling quickly. He sat on the edge of her bed and frowned at her in the moonlight. He had a younger sister and he thought he understood girls but he'd forgotten that each and every one was completely different. He didn't know how to make this better. In the past, he'd just buy her expensive chocolates and make her laugh and then she'd like him again but now? Now, he was scrambling, recalling conversations, picking things over and over to find something to hold onto.

Lorin's comment made him blink and wonder if she'd bumped her head. "I've not switched allegiances," the taller boy said gently as he dropped his gaze to his hands, finding the sight of her crying physically painful. The fact that she thought they belonged to one another was both laughable and distressing. Now that he was dissecting this relationship in the moonlight, he couldn't help but feel irked. If they were going to lay things bare, he felt as though he'd picked up the shitty end of the stick.

He'd always run prospective girlfriends by Lorin before anything happened, hoping to gain her approval without thinking and she always told him no. She always found faults and twisted things to make him see them, too. He came running when called, he came to dinner when asked, he backed her up when she needed help. He always took her side, he was always within earshot. He got into fights for her to protect her honour and what exactly did he get in return? In the gloomy darkness, Harvey watched her for a long moment as he felt misplaced anger swirl in his stomach, like a maelstrom of hurt and confusion.

Harvey wasn't a martyr. He didn't like playing the victim but dark thoughts crept in on him from the deeper edges of his brain, threatening to fog and cloud his vision. Heaving a sigh, he screwed his eyes shut and pinched down hard on the bridge of his nose. "I never left you, Lorin," he told her slowly, as though he was trying to keep his tongue in check. "But you left me plenty of times." With that, he flicked his bright blue eyes, now tinged with steel, back up to her face. Maybe he'd known her too long but it was so easy to play the blame game.

"With Conall and Seth," he continued, feeling everything come to a head and he needed to get it out otherwise they were going to be circling each other for months. They both needed to hear the truth, regardless of how painful it was going to be. "I picked up the pieces for you, Lorin," he said in a whisper as he fought to keep his voice low. "Every single time. I punched Regan in the face and got a fortnight of detention, just because he wasn't treating you as you deserve so come on," he said as he pause to take a breath. "Don't you dare say I wasn't there for you. I've bent over backwards for you the entire time I've known you but you need to realise, I'm not your pet. You can't just ring a bell and I'll come back to you straight away. That's not friendship, Lorin, that's Stockholm Syndrome."

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop it and he winced as the sharpness of everything he'd just confessed to her. She didn't need to own him like that. She needed to trust. "I came here because I miss you," Harvey told Lorin frankly. "And I was worried about you so I came to see that you were okay." Perhaps the cracks in their friendships had gradually widened to become chasms. An out? He offered her a tired and lopsided smile. "Don't want one," he replied easily with a shrug. "I told you, it's you and me. You better get used to it."

"Of course I do," Harvey replied instantaneously and without thought. Of course he loved her, just not in the way she might have hoped or wanted him to. Heaving a heavy sigh, he scooted closer to her so their knees were almost touching. "I adore you, you oddball," he told her affectionately as he reached out and stroked a lock of her dark hair. "Just because I Haven't tried to sleep with you doesn't mean that I don't love you. Love doesn't equal sex, you know that." Frowning again, he continued. "I love you because you're you. You're funny and you're smart and you're warm, don't lie," he said, making a pre-emptive strike before she told him otherwise.

"I love you because you're otherworldly and vaguely threatening and I'm kind of into it," Harvey said warmly as he touched her knee briefly with a long index finger. "I love you because you just don't know how perfect you are." He peered at her seriously for a moment. "I love that you build walls when you're not sure. I love that your nostrils flare when you lie. I love that you think it's better to be feared than adored but most of all, I love you as a whole. So really, in future, please don't doubt that I'd die for you because you know I will." His comment was flippant but she should know him better than that.

Truthfully, Lorin needed to hear some of the things that Harvey was saying. She needed to hear that she couldn't continue to order him around and expect things to be okay between them. She needed to hear that he wasn't her pet, meant to come whenever she called. Even so, hearing it hurt. It made her wonder why the hell he was there, if that was how he felt. If he thought she treated him like a dog, why bother with her at all? Why didn't he just leave? The thought of it made her swell up with rage. She was ready to give him a piece of her mind, when he continued talking and somehow managed to turn the whole thing around. He loved her, he said, and he thought she was “otherworldly” whatever that could possibly mean. He loved her faults as well as her strengths, he said. It would have been romantic, if he hadn't just carved a bit out of her heart.

Lorin knew little of non-romantic love. The closest she could think of was her love for Theoren, but even that had been tainted with sex, in one way or another. Maybe his feelings for her hadn't changed but her feelings towards him grew increasingly confusing by the day. She didn't know how to love a part of a person. Lorin only knew how to love them all. She wanted to be singularly important, the most important person to them. She wanted to wrap their love around her like a blanket, a shield to keep her demons away. That was selfish and she knew it, but she couldn't help wanting it. She knew Theoren would leave her one day, sooner rather than later. He'd find a girl and fall in love and that would be the end of his sister as his favorite person, unless Lorin could find a way to weasel in and be that girl. She'd given up on that when she met Seth.

Without wanting to, Lorin became overwhelmed with emotion. She hoped that one day he would reciprocate the strong feelings she came to learn as love. The deep longing. The desire, the desperation. She felt flattered when he remembered her name. She felt flattered when he looked her in the eye, as if he was giving her a gift with those tiny gestures. She expected so much more than that from anyone else she loved. With Seth, Lorin had no desire to take anything. She only wished to give him everything in her heart. She hoped one day that he would love her back, bit it seemed that would be a pipe dream. He barely remembered her.... and why would he? No one else found her interesting, intelligent, beautiful, or anything someone like Seth deserved in a match.

Because she didn't get what she needed from her love, Lorin looked for that comfort in someone else. Originally, that had been Conall. Conall had been able to give Lorin almost everything she needed from a man. He was doting and attentive. He loved her, he said, and he seemed to care about her. Harvey didn't approve, but Harvey never seemed to approve of her men either, he had come out and said so. Other than Conall and Seth, she had never dated anyone. If she left him for them, that meant that he was just as jealous as she was, in his own way. She tried not to dwell on that, or his words might not make sense. How could he love her so much, get jealous of her boyfriends, and not want to be with her on some level? A part of her wanted to call bullshit, but she knew she was missing pieces to the puzzle. He probably had some other girl he doted on, some other girl he wanted to be with that outshined her. Or maybe he was just trying to say the right things to keep her from crying, who knew?

Lorin faltered a little as his long  fingers shifted down her arms and she stood very still as he thought about it, as she considered what to say.

“I--” She began, but the words died on her lips. It was so hard for her to tell anyone she loved them, even as a friend. Loving made her weak and vulnerable. If she loved him, he could hurt her. He already had hurt her, but then he'd know. He'd be able to use that power whenever he saw fit. She seemed content to jealously guard the truth, hold it close to her chest, and never tell another soul. He deserved to know, though. He deserved to hear it. After everything she put him through.

“I'm sorry.” She said, instead. “For treating you the way I have been. You're right. You've always been there when I needed you. You beat up my boyfriends when they misbehave and you carried my drunk ass back to school last year on my birthday and didn't even make fun of me the next day, even though I ignored you for about two weeks out of shame. You always do things like that for me, and I'm sorry that I'm not there in return.” She said, still not facing him, because she was just unable to do so. If she saw him, she would falter more. “What would you ask of me?” She inquired. Lorin didn't know what she should do for him in return. She had never asked him to beat up her boyfriends and get detention, he had come up with that idea himself, though admittedly she always loved it.

“Just tell me...” She urged. “Tell me how to be a better friend to you, and I'll do it.”