its a possibility to

Too long has passed for you to still be carrying that weight.The flat is quiet, lit only by the refractions of the red taillights of cars passing outside. They shimmer through the window above the curtain rod and project themselves onto the ceiling. You hear busses trundle by, drunken people making their way from the first pub to the next. You’re painfully awake, your thoughts swirling endlessly around the gutter of your mind, refusing to drain out and let you finally sleep.Tonight, Harry has no such problems. He’s curled on his side, facing away from you, fluffy little head tucked into his chest defensively. If he were awake, you’d chide him for his posture. But he isn’t. He’s snoozing away peacefully, his arms wrapped around the bear you got him all those years ago. Gently, you run your fingers down his spine. It doesn’t rouse him. Just barely, you dip your fingers into the cleft of his arse, touching the hair that grows at the base of his tailbone. He shivers and pulls the blanket up his body sloppily, making you retract your hand to stroke the hair on his head instead.You didn’t mean to break them up.