Misery Loves Company (H.Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 39

Chapter 39

The morning sun strikes through the window and burns my pale skin, even with the shades down. I attempt to squirm out of its rays but the entire bed is exposed to the light. The room smells like a rotten mess, from the sex, the puke still on the floor and the amount of blood my hand has lost after pulling so hard and scraping most of the skin off my wrist. None of my screams have been successful, but Harry’s bed squeaked about twenty blinks ago. 

The same routine as every morning goes on: a long shower, a few minutes of television probably to catch the latest news and eventually, his bedroom door opens. I whimper loud enough for him to hear, but since it hasn’t helped for the past night, I highly doubt it will be changing anything even if I were to scream as loud as my vocal chords allow me. 

But the doorknob turns slowly, or at least this is how my eyes see it. Harry’s curly head peaks in through the small crack, but he wiggles his nose at the scent. His eyes instantly widen and he pushes the door until it hits the wall behind it, probably denting where the doorknob hits. “Elena, what the hell have you done?” he shrieks, his voice betraying him when it cracks at the end.

I simply sob, pushing myself on my side while one arm is stretched to the bedpost and the other one tries to cover at least some of my body. My hair sticks to my head with all the sweat and the tears, and some of the vomit as well that managed to leak from my mouth and onto the rest of my face. Harry walks around the bed and holds his breath visibly when he sees the mess I’ve made. Then his eyes shoot to my naked body and to the mess my broken hand is, blood dripping down my arm and onto the pillows. Dried blood mostly, but if I move too much, it will start pour again from the scabs. 

“What the fuck have I done?” he whispers under his breath, hurt flooding his expression. I cry as I watch him run out of the bedroom, not even surprised that he would leave me in my own filth. But he returns just as fast with a key and climbs on the bed from the clean side to unlock the handcuffs. “Shh, baby. I’m here, it’s okay.” He carefully removes my hand from the metal and picks me up bridal style against his shirtless being. 

“I’m sorry,” I cry. My mouth tastes like spoiled lasagna. 

He carries me to the bathroom and pulls the door of the shower opened with his bare foot. “Don’t apologize, Elena.”

I’m forced to stand on my own when he sets me down in the shower, and I hold myself on the walls to balance on my limp legs. Harry steps in the shower behind me with his shorts on and closes the door. I watch him adjust the water to a desired heat and he removes the showerhead from the hook. Hot water instantly pours down my back and on my head, removing the tension in my muscles. It washes away the dirt and the blood, and the water has turned red on the floor by the time it reaches the drain. My bandage is soaked within seconds but for once, it isn’t Harry’s main concern. Once the water has covered my entire body, he turns it off and walks out of the shower, dripping on the tiles. 

He hands me a towel and helps me out. “I’ll run you a bath. Bubbles or not?”

I shake my head and he smiles sadly, walking towards the tub and adjusting the water like he did with the shower. I stand by the shower door, shivering and clinging onto the towel, but Harry takes my hand once the tub has filled to the middle and takes the towel from me. His strong arms pick me up and he gently deposits my body in the water. He sits on the side of the bathtub while the water goes up and pushes my hair back from my face with his fingers. My legs bend and find my chest again, where I wrap my arms around them tightly.

When the bath has reached a satisfactory amount of water, he turns the tap until just a few drops of water remain, and gets up. “Don’t move while I go clean. I’ll be right back, okay?” His hand cups my face and his green eyes glaze with pain. “Don’t move.”