TW: mentions of self-harm (non-graphic)
Violet.
I hauled myself out of bed Monday afternoon, forcing myself to at least make my way to work and try and have a normal day. Abby was still here, cooking up some lunch in the kitchen as I stood under the shower. The water was cold already but I didn't mind.
It seemed to clear my mind and wake me up a bit after having a restless night of tossing and turning in the sheets, my usual nightmare waking me up three times instead of once. Whenever I slept shallowly, it always got worse. I knew I was going to have a shit day, Harry's words replaying in my head every second since they left his mouth.
I jumped in some jeans and a large hoodie, not bothering putting on make-up or make an effort on my hair. I knew I looked like shit but it was the least of my worries. I had no energy to put myself together. Getting to work would be the greatest accomplishment today and I had to take the small wins.
I mindlessly stared at the sandwich that Abby put in front of me. She had been here the whole time since I called her on Saturday night. We stayed in bed yesterday, sleeping and watching some TV, not really saying much. She stroked my hair and made me food that I didn't eat. I took a bite from my sandwich when I saw her staring at me with expectation. Abby was strict but loving, and I knew she was only doing this in my best interest.
"Are you sure you're ready for work? Ian will be there." Abby spoke as she ate her sandwich on the opposite side of the table. I shrugged. "Have to face him some time, I can't hide in here forever. I have bills to pay, I need to work. Maybe it'll take my mind off things."
"I can't believe I have to go to his stupid bar tonight." She hissed at the thought of having to face Harry that evening. Abby was absolutely fuming and I had never seen her this angry before. I was glad she wasn't angry with me, because an angry Abby was not someone you wanted to come across.
I smiled at Pierre who joined us at the table in silence. He quietly offered me some coffee, his way of trying to comfort me. I politely declined. I'd had so much coffee already that I was an anxious and trembling mess, and I made a mental to get myself some decaf this afternoon at the RSP.
Pierre had heard me crying all weekend, and he obviously knew something was up. He wasn't the type of person to have deep conversations with, but I could tell he tried to be there for me in other ways. Small ways, like cleaning the kitchen, or offering me some coffee, or leaving me a slice of pizza, or setting up the mouse traps. I hadn't even been surprised anymore to see the brown rodent speeding through my kitchen yesterday.
It was a vast contrast to how Abby had been treating me the past day. She had been rambling on about different ways to cut Harry's penis off and serve it to him to eat. I told you she was angry.
I hadn't responded to Harry's texts and he hadn't sent another, so there was just radio silence on both of our parts. His words got repeated over and over again in my head, and even though they stung, it wasn't the only thing I was sad about. I had simply let it go way too far.
I knew from the beginning that Harry was bad news, but I let myself go and brought down my walls to let him in. He had been nice, treated me well, made me feel things, but the look on Ian's face when he saw me there... It was pure disappointment and it made me nauseous to think about it. I had been selfish, and so fucking stupid to think this whole thing wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass.
Harry and I had been a lost cause from the beginning, and I didn't know why I even tried to ignore that or see the good in it. I should've just said no when he asked to sober up at my place, that's where everything went wrong.
YOU ARE READING
Petal [h.s.]
Fanfiction[Completed] [MATURE CONTENT] [TW: Mentions of drug abuse and self-harm] "When I met her, I told myself 'no feelings'. But I guess you know by now that that's never how feelings work." As a 24-year-old working with underage drug addicts in a rehab...