[COMPLETED]
trep·i·da·tion
a feeling of fear or agitation about something that may happen.
***
"You'll see the truth one day." I whispered against his harsh lips knowing this was wrong. The sensation was driving me insane, his warm breath panning...
All the crazy shit I did tonight Those would be the best memories I just wanna let it go for the night That would be the best therapy for me
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I'm restless, and I'm about to fucking give up on sleep.
Harry's snoring lightly underneath the sheets with his head on my stomach, and I don't want to wake him. He's like the sleeping bear no one wants to poke.
Me on the other hand is awake like I've just shot energy drinks straight into my veins. I tried sleeping, but my body was quick to put up a fight against it.
I got about two hours of sleep before I woke up and the thoughts started to eat my mind. Some part of me thought maybe I would be fine after what happened at the park three days ago, but it was quick to come back at me.
The first few days were fine, and I actually felt like a weight had lifted off of me, but then something had changed. It was a little past three in the morning, and I couldn't take it anymore.
I tried to distract myself by focusing on Harry or running my hands through his curls. The thoughts were quick to intrude my brain and I was left regretting every moment of my life.
Anxiety started to riddle within me about the thought that that picture would be seen by others. I reassured myself that it was safe and in my bag, but that wouldn't soothe the panic.
I tried to keep myself calm and just lay here, but I can't do it anymore. I need to get up and move around, I just don't want to wake Harry up in the process.
I looked around the dark room, before looking down at Harry sleeping on my chest. Slowly, I pulled the comforter away from my body and swung one of my legs out.
Harry started to stir in his sleep but ended up lifting his head from my chest and stuck it into the side of my body. I soothed one of my hands up and down his back as he fell back into a deep sleep.
My feet dragged out of the bed, landing on the floor quietly. I stood up, taking a second for the dizzy feeling in my head to go away. I looked back at Harry who was still sound asleep before moving away.
All I had on was a pair of underwear and a big hoodie, so I leaned down to my suitcase to grab a pair of sweatpants. I felt my fingers graze over the picture and I pierced my eyes shut before shoving it in my sweatshirt pocket.
I slipped on the sweatpants quickly before I moved to the small dresser that had a few of mine and Harry's things laid out on it. My phone was laid out on the top of the dresser so I put it in my pocket. I grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lighter slipped it into the front pocket, just because I needed some escape.
Cigarettes aren't my thing, and I hate smoking them, but sometimes it just gets too much. I'd rather smoke a cigarette than fall back into my addiction and take heroin.
