Honey Rain

Chapter Twenty-Four

I was miserable and irritable all day, feeling hungover and sick and helpless and used and alone. There weren't many students in the halls, but there never were during Rose Week. Harry wasn't in school today either, but he took me home last night. I was really home, not just at my house. He stayed the night with me.

Niall was mortified when I told him what happened at the party yesterday, frantically trying to convince me to call the police or report this to someone. He said something about rape and something about pressing charges, but I told him to calm down. I didn't care what happened to me anymore.

Niall didn't let me go to tonight's party and that was perfectly alright with me. I think my
poor heart would collapse in on itself and kill me if I had to see Harry with a girl one more time.

We stayed at my house all night, watching movies and staying sober. He was glancing over at me constantly. I could tell he thought he was being discreet but anyone could see that he was staring like he thought I would run away if he wasn't monitoring me.

My skin was burning and itchy beneath the newest bandages that Niall had put on my arms, but he wouldn't let me take them off. I desperately wanted to relieve some of the pressure in my mind but Niall wasn't letting me smoke or cut myself. I took five Tylenol, and not because of my splitting headache.

I didn't dress up at all for the party on Thursday. It didn't matter who I presented as or what clothes I was wearing because I'll fuck myself over no matter what.

I'm done with Harry. I can't put myself through another day of pining over him because he won't love me like I want him to. He has no problem showing off his temporary girlfriends like they're prizes that he won, but when it comes to me... I'm just not worth it in his mind.

He wasn't with just one girl when I saw him next, no. He had four girls all over him with their hands in his hair and on his shoulders and on his chest and on everywhere they could reach, fawning over him and feeling him up like he only existed for their pleasure. Harry looked like he was loving it, grinning smugly and closing his eyes that were hardly open as it is.

My stomach churned at the awful sight and I quickly knocked back one, two, three more cups full of any alcohol I could get my hands on.

I didn't notice Harry again until nearly forty minutes later, hardly conscious and laying back against the couch while tipsy girls took turns kissing his face and running their filthy hands all over him. I wondered why he wasn't doing anything to stop them or perhaps encourage them and that's when I realized that he couldn't. He was hardly even moving.

I didn't take even a moment to rationalize my decision before I was rushing over and pulling him away from them, sliding my arm around his waist to help him walk.

I was trying to keep my cool but ended up whipping around and snapping at the girls on the couch. "He's not some fucking toy for you to play with!" I ignored their confused muttering and harsh stares.

He was putting essentially all of his weight on me, not even able to stand up by himself. I bit my lip with worry and put his hand on top of mine for a bit more stability.

He mumbled nonsensically as we made our way upstairs and into what I assumed was the house's guest bedroom, too out of it to even realize what was going on. I led him to the bed, gently guiding him so that he was lying down comfortably with his head on the pillow. He was already passed out.

I sat on the edge of the bed keeping a close eye on him to make sure he was still breathing. I wasn't sure what he had taken or if he had even done it voluntarily, but he wasn't in a good state right now.

God, he looked so beautiful, and I just couldn't leave him alone. It's dangerous. That's what I kept reminding myself. I can't leave him alone because it's not safe. That's the only reason.