But she said, where'd you wanna go? How much you wanna risk?

I don't fall asleep until the early hours of the morning. Harry's asthma attack scared me half to death. He used to get them all the time as a kid, and I'd always run to him with his inhaler. I even carried one on me all the time.

One of the things that bother me the most is they're always connected to a nightmare, which triggers a panic attack, and then his asthma kicks in. The question on my mind is, what is wrong? Is there something he's not telling me? Is he hiding something? 

I know that I don't know everything about Harry and his past; I can see the scars he still has. I don't care about that; I just want to know he'll be okay. There are things about me that I also yet haven't shared. 

We have forever to do that. I'm just afraid he's bottling it up, and now it's starting to spill over. Even if it's not on purpose, something is happening to him. I fall asleep eventually, dreaming of little children playing in a field, but I wake up tired and in an empty bed. 

I go downstairs after taking a shower and find everyone sitting at the dining table. I search for an indication of time and see it's past ten. I never sleep past eight. 

I sit next to Harry, and he pushes a plate in front of me, busy chewing on his food. "Morning, Sunshine." He whispers after he swallows. "Morning," I reply.

"Let you sleep; you were tossing and turning all night." He noticed, which means maybe he also didn't get much sleep. "How are you feeling?" I ask; I'm still concerned about last night. "Aching, but I'm okay." He says.

I lean back in my chair, folding my legs underneath me. "Rough night?" Amy asks me from across the table. "Yea, couldn't fall asleep," I answer vaguely.

"What are we doing today?" Mitch throws the question to the table. "We can go hiking?" Harry suggests. I look outside. The weather is warm here, for it is in the middle of November already. "Sounds good to me." 

***

We're about two miles into the hike when they start complaining. "We're musicians," Sarah says from a distance, sitting on a rock. "So are we!" Harry and I yell together. It sparks some laughter, and Elijah makes a point of telling Amy that this is what he meant yesterday.

"Not even he is as bad as you, and he's small." Harry sighs, pointing at Adam's kid, who's running in circles around Emi. 

"We'll go slower," I suggest to them. We track our way up the rocky path. It's a beautiful trail. Harry walks beside me. 

I look at him from the corner of my eye. His hair is in a bun. He's wearing a plain white shirt that's sticking to his back from the sweat it's accumulated. He's looking good right now. He winches with the next step he takes, rubbing at his chest.

"Harry." I knowledge him. "Just a little tight." He answers. I don't give a reply. We finally manage to get on top, what feels like years later. Everyone is very relieved when they see the top of the hill.

I throw the bag from my back, and Harry does the same. "Look at this sweets." He says, pouring some water into his mouth right after. He hands it to Mitch. I look around, making a three-sixty as I go. It's breathtaking. 

"Takes your breath away, doesn't it?" He asks, and I laugh because he's repeating my thoughts. "It does." I sit on one of the boulders. Taking in the quiet, birds chirp in the background, but that's the only noise for miles. 

"This was worth it," Elijah says after a while, and I hum in agreement. We spend some time on the hill, but the kids soon get tired, and we make our way back. Harry pulls my arm. "Stay a while longer with me?" Harry asks, and of course, I agree immediately. 

Harry is sitting against a rock formation, and I'm sitting on the ground in between his legs. He's playing with the yellow ribbon on my finger. "I finished it." He says, his breath fans over my cheek. "The painting?" I ask excitedly. "Yea, can't wait for you to see it." He tells me. 

"Me neither, gonna be amazing." I'm sure of it cause everything he touches turns into gold. "Yea, what if it's complete shit?" He laughs. "Nope, you have golden fingers," I tell him. He chuckles, his head moving from side to side against my shoulder.

"Elaborate, please?" He asks. "Well, everything you touch turns into gold; you're a real-life Midas. You're just... You're just golden." I sigh, leaning back against him. 

"I love these moments, where I can say anything and just be me." He says, and my heart is looking over the edge for a soft landing. 

"I'm so glad I found you." I turn around, sitting on his thighs, crossed legged.  I lean my forehead against his chest. "Did you know that Superman didn't always fly?" He asks me, and I'm caught off guard from the sudden subject change. 

"It's your turn to elaborate." He weaves one hand into my hair, it's sweaty from the day's excursion, but he doesn't seem to mind. 

He tilts my head towards him. His thumb strokes over my bottom lip, and he looks at my mouth in deep concentration. He leans in and kisses me softly, pulling back after our lips meet. 

"In the beginning, he could only leap, from one roof to another. The artist that drew the comics got tired of having to draw him in a crouched position every time, so he decided it would be better if he just made him fly." 

"That's very interesting, kinda puts things into perspective," I tell him. He's always been my wings.  "How?" He asks me. 

"Well, I'm him... I'm superman, and you're the artist; you gave me wings, so now... Now I can fly." I try my best to explain. "Where will you go?" He asks, a small, teasing smile playing on his lips. 

"Right back home to you. Every. Single. Time." I emphasize each word with a soft kiss, but he doesn't allow me to pull back. He leaves feather light kisses all over my face and finally kisses my lips so tenderly as if I might be made of porcelain.   

"What's the painting about?" I ask while my head is on his chest. "It's about a girl. She's living in the future still, but we'll catch up soon enough. She's surrounded by everything she holds dear to her. She's in a field of yellow tulips, her favorite flower in the world. She's wearing an old white dress with a hat on her head, with a yellow ribbon around it." He explains. 

He's always been the best storyteller. He adds these crazy little details no one else would think about. He remembers the smallest things, things no one else will remember. 

It's later that night; everyone is scattered around the living room. Harry and Elijah are sitting by the fireplace on the couch. Their heads are bend together, angled towards each other as they conspire about something. Elijah has very quickly become a part of our everyday life. He's still working at the flower shop, and he seems to enjoy it almost as much as I do. 

It would be hard for us if he decides to leave. I scroll my eyes to the left; Sarah and Amy sit on the floor, drinking wine and looking a little worse for wear. Sarah's head snaps up to me. "Join us; we're sharing secrets about the guys." She whispers, beckoning me closer.

"Hey, not good at all. Aliza, you stay put." Mitch says from his position on the floor. He's surrounded by the children, along with Adam. Emi is taking a nap. I smirk at him but join Sarah and Amy anyway. I lean against the couch once I sit down.

"Ali, Ali." Silver yells for my attention, and her little body comes burrowing towards me, falling right into my lap. "Hey, little one." I brush her wild hair out of her eyes. "Silver, come here," Adam says, trying to get her off me. " It's okay Adam, children don't affect me as much," I tell him, and he sighs in relief. 

"Really? So how exactly does it work?" Sarah asks. Elijah and Harry are also listening now. "Well, different emotions have different intensities and currents. Pulses maybe? Negative emotions are harsh and hurt the most. It's just better not to take the chance." I explain as best I can. It's hard because emotions can't be turned off.

Even if someone pretends to be happy, I feel what's more in-depth. I feel what's real. "That's why children are okay; they're not tainted yet," I add. I play with Silvers loose curls.

"That's kinda amazing; that's why you're such a good person," Amy says. My eyes cast to Harry's. He's smiling softly at me. I smile back, reflecting the love his eyes are holding. The room disappears. It always does when he looks at me. 

Little hands grab my cheeks, pulling my face forward. "Ali." She demands my attention. "Yes?" I ask her. She doesn't say anything; she just falls into my shoulder—her little hand resting on my chest. I snap my eyes at Adam. 

"She's gonna fall asleep there." He explains. Her body is warm, and my heart beats a little faster because it feels good to be snuggled by such a tiny thing. I haven't put a lot of thought into it, children and a family. 

I know if it happens, it'll be with Harry, but that's all I've figured out so far. Does he want it?  I look at him, and the moment I see his face, I know the answer. His eyes are shining. "You and Harry, you want children?" Adam asks.

 I clear my throat. "It's..." I'm getting more choked up. "Sorry, Lies didn't mean to make you emotional; you don't have to answer." He says... "No, it's okay. There's just a lot of thing that comes with being... like us." I look at Harry for help.

I fold my arms around Silver, her body now fully relaxed and her breathing even. "My dad's name was Desmond. My mom's name was Rebecca. 

That's all I know. I was two days old when they died. I have a faded photo of them from when they got married; that's all I'll ever know." He repeats, focusing on Adam's face. 

"My mom was a nurse; I never knew my dad. She got shot on the subway when I was seven." Elijah says next to Harry. 

They look at me now, all of them. "My parents dropped me in front of the home when I was nine, couldn't handle me anymore. I thought I was crazy for crying every time someone touched me. I haven't heard of them since." I shrug. I made peace with it long ago. 

"That's very..." Amy struggles. "Morbid? Sad? Fucked up?" Harry asks. She nods at him. "Wanna hear a joke?" Elijah asks into the room, not giving anyone a chance to answer. "I once called Harry daddy." Harry groans next to him, hitting him hard on the back.

I'm laughing softly at the memory, and the tension seems to vanish when everyone starts laughing. "Oh my God! You were eight years old!" Harry exclaims. 

That set of another round of laughter. "We grew up good man; we had one of the good homes," Elijah says when he calms down.  Harry's chin is resting in his palm.

"We had each other," I add. "We use to get up to so much shit; we were always in trouble. Remember when you decked that guy after you went on a field trip?" Elijah asks Harry. "Oh God, I forgot about that!" I laughed. "It was when we went to the art gallery," I say.

"He was mean to you, deserved it." Harry mumbles. "So you've just always been her night in shining armor?" Amy asks. "Yea, he has," I answer her, looking at Harry.

"I should get these two home; they're both out," Adam says, standing up with a sleepy baby in his arms. "Can you, can you maybe take him and then come back. Just a minute longer?" I ask up at him, and he nods with a hint of a smile.

Harry comes to me about an hour after Adam left. "Let's go to bed." He says, crouching down and kissing my lips softly. "Okay, daddy." I tease him. His eyes go wide, and he stiffens in front of me, a gleam in his eyes. I think I just found one of Harry's kinks.

***

"Do you, do you want to have children?" I ask Harry once we're settled in bed. He's sitting up in bed, leaning against the bed frame. My head is on his thigh, my fingers playing with the hem of his shorts. He takes one hand of the book he's reading and wraps it around me, resting his hand on my thigh.

"Yea, if there comes a time where we both want it, then I do. Is it something you want?" He asks, discarding his book completely to look at me. I roll onto my back and look up. "Yes, one day I do," I tell him. "I won't be like them." I'm saying it more as reassurance to myself than anything else 

"Not a chance. We'll fill the whole house with beautiful babies, doesn't matter how we have them." He promises me. "Do you think that maybe they regret it? Do you think that they think of me sometimes?" I ask him, swallowing the lump in my throat.

To be honest, I usually ignore this part of my life—the part where my parents just decided to give me away. Strong arms pull me up, and I fall into his chest. "I think they've realized that they made the biggest mistake ever." He tells me. I nod into his chest, no knowing what to say. 

"We'll be alright." He whispers into my hair, and the first tears fall. "Oh darling, no." He says and pulls me even closer until my cheek is resting next to his. I curl into him, sitting on his lap. He rubs my thigh softly. "I'm always gonna be here, trying to right what the world did to us." He tells me, which makes me cry for different reasons. 

I don't know if he said those words on purpose or if it's just really how he feels. But he spoke straight to my abandonment issues, telling me he's not going to do the same. Even though I know he's here to stay, Reassuring is something I need frequently, and he knows it, accepts it, and gives it to me whenever I need it. With or without words.

He's my boy with flowers in his hair, and I hope to God that I'll be the one who forever puts it there.  

Mkay Bye.