"Looks like you're his next victim."
"Jesus Nova, didn't your mum ever warn you about creatures like me?! I'm not good for you and I'll end up ruining you or killing you!"
He wasn't human. There was nothing human about him. His blood was cold and hi...
TW: Mention of sexual assault/other sensitive topics
"Coming for the cold Buried under the heat Lay you on the floor Heavy like the force between us Coming like a rose Tell me like a beast"
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Nova
The distant sounds of grunting and shuffling cause me to slowly open my eyes. Raising my hands to my eyes, I attempt to rid away the blurriness that invades my vision. A slight pounding radiates across my temples as I try sitting myself up, feeling the weight of my tulle dress dragging me down.
It's dim where I lay, the only sources of light coming from the streetlamps outside the window and the pit of light coming from the bathroom to the left of me. Placing my palm to my head, I realize I'm in the loft of Harry's club, which means Harry must've carried me inside. I have no recollection as to what happened after I put two and two together and realized Drew was Harry's stepbrother.
There's a pit in my stomach the more I think about it, now understanding Mark's motive for sending someone to go after me. While it was never known that I took part in Drew's death, this is the only logical explanation as to why Mark may want me dead.
A low grunt causes me to turn and focus on the bathroom down the hall. The door's open and my eyes squint to see Harry standing in front of the sink, his bloodied shirt is now discarded on the floor as he delicately tries to clean the stab wound on his shoulder. He lets out a hiss as he tries to scrape away the dried blood on his arm, his eyes fixed on the mirror in front of him.
Shifting myself to the edge of the couch, I notice Harry slipped my heels off and left them sitting on the floor next to me. Carefully, hoping I don't lose my balance by standing up too fast, I raise to my feet and shuffle towards the bathroom door. Harry doesn't notice me at first, his hair a disheveled mess as he grinds his teeth together before grabbing the suture kit on the counter next to him.
"Let me help," I break the silence, letting him know I'm awake. His head turns to look at me, defeat floods his evergreen eyes. He's tired- there are bags under his eyes with a blanket of sweat covering his forehead from him irritating his wound. His eyes search my face for a few moments before he glances at the kit in his hand before handing it to me.
Grabbing the kit from him, I feel his eyes on me as I try to swallow down the guilt that's beginning to rise in my stomach. From what Harry has told me in the past, it seems like he never got along with Drew. While that still doesn't dismiss the fact that I'm the reason he's gone, I have a feeling Harry won't blame me for the real reason he's no longer here.
While I know the reason for the both of us ending up in the facility was bound to come up at some point, I was never prepared for my reason for being there being connected to Harry. Never in a million years would I have assumed Harry's sibling would be related to me spending countless days in a cold building where I was left alone with my lethal thoughts.
