TREPIDATION // h.s

CHAPTER 14 //

Delilah Allen

I honestly can't believe what I did last night. I got in way over my head. I allowed myself to be vulnerable with him, only for it to come back and slap me in the face. He left me so confused. 

And now I'm fucking embarassed and hungover and irritated and just pissed off.

This is why I can't trust people. This is why I never let people in, even though my biggest wish is to have someone who I can completely trust. It's because you can't really trust anyone, as soon as you do, they use it against you.

But there was something about him last night. Something about the way he was looking at me, about the way he made me feel. It made me want to trust him, and let him in. And I did, but look what happened.

He acted just like the bastard I knew he was. Guys are so fucking predictable. 

The rest of the weekend I basically spent in my room. I watched movies and slept. Every so often when I left my room to get food or water, I would see Harry with a different girl than before. It's like he was doing this purposely to rub it in my face.

Whatever, it doesn't bother me, this is who he is. And I don't plan on really interacting with him anymore so I don't care what or who he does.

It's now Sunday evening, and I'm sitting on my bed, reading through the university catalog. They have very interesting degrees here, but none that I really think could fit me.

I've really having internal struggles, deciding what I want to study, and the deadline coming up soon doesn't easy my anxiety either.

I just got out of the shower a few minutes ago, so my hair is still in a towel. I go sit in front of my mirror, so I can brush out my hair. When I'm on the floor, my door swings open, and Harry walks in with a whiskey bottle in his hand.

"What are you doing?" I ask as he flops down onto my bed. I take a deep breath, urging myself to be graceful. 

"I just want to lay here for a while." He drags a sip straight from the bottle.

"Why ?" I make eye contact with him through the mirror, and even from here I can tell they're slightly tinted red.

"I'm just gonna watch you." His lip curves upward, intending a smile, but it's not quite there.

"Okay..." I hesitantly grab my hairbrush and start brushing through my damp hair.

When I look at him again after a while, I can see him on the bed, staring at me. I ignore him and just continue brushing my hair. I can still feel his eyes on me the entire time. This makes me very self-conscious. After I'm done I grab the catalog book, and lay down next to him on the bed, still minimizing my acknowledgement of his presence.

I can feel him still staring at me, so I look away from the book and make eye contact with him.

"What?"

"You're so pretty." He beams and I just roll my eyes at him. He's only nice to me when he's drunk, and when he's not, I'm the worst person in the world.

"Yeah, you only say that when you're drunk ." I smile sarcastically.

"Well, you know what they say about sober thoughts..."

I ignore him and just return to browsing through the book. "What's this?" He asks grabbing it from my hands.

"College catalog," I rest my head on the pillow next to his, I feel a little too close to him but I just stay there. I don't know why I did this, but it feels right. I can see he is taken back from my action, as he tenses up, but then relaxes again.

"What do you want to do?" He asks. I study his tattooed hands and his long fingers as he pages through the book, it mesmerizes me. His skin looks so delicate and soft and even something as simple as his hands is beautiful to me.

 He also smells so good and it's a little distracting at times. His scent makes me feel like I'm in heaven.

"I don't know yet," I mutter and I grab the bottle of whiskey and take a big gulp of it. It burns in my chest and I squint my eyes shut at the taste.

I seriously don't get how he drinks it with just ease, it takes a whole lot of self control for me not to gag at the mere taste of it.

"Hmm." He hums, thinking. "Don't you love painting? You can do art." He suggests, way too spesifically.

"I used to love painting," I emphasize the words.

"Why don't you anymore ?" He asks looking down at me. I grab the whiskey bottle and take another swig of it. If we're going to have this conversation, I need it.

"Because it reminds me of my ex-boyfriend, Tyler."

"Why?" 

I sigh. This really isn't something I like getting in to.

"Well, he used to be my muse you know. It was something we always did together, it just still reminds me of him."

"Okay, that sounds like good memories. Did it end badly or something?" He pushes, drinking from the bottle. I grab it from him and take another sip.

"You think this is stupid," I purse my lips and I turn my head away, embarassed, but he grabs my chin and gently shifts it back so I face him again.

"He was you know, not the best," I say in shame, shutting my eyes.

"What do you mean?" He darts his eyebrows together.

"Like he was pretty manipulative and unfaithful and a little agressive, okay, he just wasn't a good person." I try to brush it off, but I just wish I never mentioned any of this.

"He hit you ?" He asks alarmed.

"No, he didn't hit me, but he used to shove me and push me around a lot, and sometimes he grabbed me too hard and it would bruise, but it was more the cheating part that left the bruises." He looks down at me with a concerned look on his face, waiting for me to continue.

"He didn't really hold back, all my classmates, friends, bestfriend. It just really fucked me up, I'm not the same I guess."

"Why didn't you leave him?" He tone is angered and I really just want to stop talking about this right now but I have the idea he wont allow that.

"I don't know, that was all I knew and he always felt really bad and he apologized and he loved me..." I stop just taking in my own words. "But I guess that wasn't really love then, I just made myself believe it was."

I take a moment to really let the realization hit, because I never wanted to admit the truth until now. That he never really loved me.

It breaks my heart all over again, but it's good, I know it is. I never got closure, but I just gave that to myself, without ever intending to. 

I just freed myself of something that was holding me back so much, something I refused to let go of until now, until this very moment.

"Delilah, I'm so sorry, I..." I interrupt him. "No pity right, don't feel sorry," I smile and I think that it must confuse him. He must think I'm mentally insane, I was just telling him about one of my past demons and now I'm smiling, but he doesn't realize he just helped to free me from it.

Instead of saying anything else, he turns his body around to face me, and then he swings his arm around my waist, and he closes his eyes. Almost like this is his way of showing his sympathy for me.

At first I don't move a limb, I feel scared to even breathe. This is such a fragile moment and I'm not sure what it means. 

 My skin is burning underneath his, and I love the feeling. He electrifies me, and it's a feeling I don't ever think I'll get tired of. It makes me feel alive and calm at the same time. It's a feeling I can't quite explain, but that's Harry for you.

He is something I can't explain, I can't explain the way he makes me feel, I can't explain why he makes me feel like this. I can't even explain why I am now laying with him after I promised myself I was done with him. Nothing I do makes sense anymore.

It's such a foreign feeling, and I don't know what it is.

//