Misery Loves Company (H.Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 38

Warning there are scenes that may trigger some memories and violence. Readers advised!!

-katexx

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Chapter 38

Previously on Misery Loves Company :

As I drift in and out of sleep, I hear faint footsteps and movement in the house. Then, before I can try to figure out what it these noises are, I fall back asleep. Once, I heard a shower, then the second time I heard footsteps up or down the stairs. My entire arm has become numb through the night and the tender skin prickles like needles poked in every millimeter. I try blindly scratching it but I end up removing pieces of scab forming around the cut on my wrist. I’m too tired to even bother paying attention to the wetness on my fingers, probably from blood, and seconds later I’m asleep again dreaming of nothing.

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The fourth of fifth time I’m conscious again, I hear nothing except my breathing. Except that my breathing isn’t as heavy and I shouldn’t be able to feel it against my own skin. My eyes snap open in surprise and I find a face watching me, so close that I could almost touch it if I bent forward just the slightest bit. I watch him watching me, his green eyes glazing and damp curls sticking to his forehead, as his slowly touches my cheek with his fingers. It’s too dark in the room to see anything but I can feel the heat from his body radiating from the short distance. I hold my breath to see if I’m dreaming or not, but his breath continues to hit my face.

“Harry,” I whisper under my breath, reaching out to touch his face as well. As soon as my fingers graze his soft skin, he pulls back. I try not to show my disappointment but a quiet choke erupts from my mouth. 

For several minutes, Harry simply watches me with his hands on his lap as he kneels on the floor. I can’t tear my gaze off of his; the first one to look away loses. His lips are chapped and red, probably from trying to remove the dead skin by biting them. He smells like shaving cream and shampoo, and his skin glistens under the poor light the moon provides. I can tell he’s shirtless, but I can’t look down to confirm my suspicions. I’d lose and it would be all over. 

If I wasn’t wearing shorts, I would be sweating from the heat of our bodies. I slowly let go of my legs that have been glued tight against my chest as protection, and I fall Indian-style. My knee accidentally touches his and I pull away instantly, embarrassed by the little collision that could’ve broken our stare. It doesn’t, though. Harry doesn’t even seem fazed by sudden touch; no even one eyelash was batted. My chest rises with every long, accelerated breath I take, as if it were trying to collide with his chest. 

I regret even breathing when his turn away from mine, gazing down at our almost connected legs. “I’m so angry with you, Elena,” he murmurs, still not looking at me. “I’m so fucking angry, I don’t know what to do.”

My bottom lip trembles in fear because I know what he could do, I’ve gone through it before. I could describe the exact feeling of his palm against my cheek, or his hand tightly wrapped around my arm. I can still feel him holding me down on the bathroom counter as spreads my legs apart and pounds into me mercilessly. 

The least I expected, however, was for him to reach back and produce a key. He must’ve brought it in when I was still sleeping and placed it carefully out of my reach behind him. With just a little bit of fumbling, my hand is released from the tight hold and I whine in pain as the blood starts to circulate through my numb limb. My breath cuts short when he takes my hand from my hold and rubs the sensitive skin between his palms, stimulating the circulation in my entire arm.