Addicted || HS

Fifty-One (Empty)

~Previously on Addicted~

"Get out of here!"

"I'm not going anywhere, so leave me the fuck alone-"

"Why?! You fucking lied to me! You-"

"I wasn't the one who went off kissing another guy!"

"What about you?!"

"Even though I could have been in bed with another girl, I wasn't with one because I'm done with this."

"What's wrong?"

"Mom. She's dead."
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Rose POV
It has already been a week since Anne died. She died by a heart attack at night when she was sleeping. After Gemma told us what happened she left. She took Darcy and left. She moved to London and never contacted us again.

Harry hasn't been doing well either. Actually he's acting normal, like if nothing has happened. He didn't cry or showed any emotions. A couple of nights after the death he woke up shouting. His body was covered in sweat, and his eyes were full of fear, darker than I have ever seen before.

Gemma wasn't at the funeral. Harry went with me, but left when his eyes landed on his mother's coffin. Not a single tear was fallen from his eyes...

"Morning." I say when Harry entered the kitchen. I'm preparing breakfast for both of us.

"Hey." He says with his low husky voice as he rubs the sleep away from his eyes. His hair is messy, and he's wearing some black sweat pants with a white T-shirt, making the tattoos underneath visible.

He sits on a chair in the kitchen island and stares at me while I flip the pancakes.

"How did you sleep?" I ask him, not taking my attention away from the pancakes I'm flipping.

"Okay I guess." He answers with his thick British accent.

"What do you mean?" I know that he didn't sleep well because of a nightmare, but I need him to take his emotions out from the inside.

"I just wasn't comfortable." He lies. I open my mouth to say something, but I just leave him alone. I don't want him to get mad or something.

"Okay." Was my only answer. Harry is a type of person that doesn't like to talk about his feelings. He keeps them all inside and ignores them, thinking they will all go away. But he needs to talk about them, or else it will explode, and will take him away.

A few minutes passed and I was done with the pancakes. I stack them all on a plate, and I place it on the center of the table. Harry takes a seat while I grab the syrup for the pancakes.

We eat in silence, with only the sound of forks clicking against the plates. I look up multiple of times at him, but quickly look away when he would look at me.

"I can't take it anymore." I say, dropping my fork against the plate. He stops eating and looks up at me.

"What are you talking about?" He rudely asks. I roll my eyes before explaining myself.

"You need to let it all out."

He lets out a small laugh before getting up from his chair, and picks up his plate to put it in the sink.

He then turns back around to me. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Of course you don't. But you never want to talk about things that are hard." It's true. Not only him, but nobody likes to talk about things that remind us of something dark.

"Then why don't you tell me what happened when Shadow had you?!" Damn why does he have to bring up something that has to do with Shadow.

"That's in the past-"

"Just tell me. Tell me what happened, and I will tell you about mine." At first I doubt his offer, but he really needs to talk about what's happening to him.

"Fine. I was abused. And raped. There, are you happy?" I sit down on the couch with my arms crossed on my chest. The last thing I want to talk about is what happened to me when I was captive by Shadow.

"You were raped?"

"Yes Harry. Now can we please talk about you now?" It came out like a question, but I don't mean it that way.

"But Rose-"

"Harry please." I beg. He sits down next to me, and lets out a deep breath.

"Like I said before, my dad left my mom, me and my sister when I was seven. So I had to become the man of the house at a young age. I was always there when my sister was hurt, or when my mom was hurt, but nobody was there when I was hurt. I never had a dad to play sports with, nor one to teach me how to become strong. When my dad left, I felt like I lost everything. Now the only parent I had left, also went away, but the only difference is that this one left forever."

Hearing Harry speak words that come from the inner him is like hearing someone read a beautiful poem out loud. Only that this isn't a beautiful poem, but more like a sad song. Like hearing a sad piano solo while looking out your window at the rain and the dark gray sky. It's not a pretty picture.

"And talking about things like this remind me of the past, and everything I lost. Everything." He speaks one last time, before standing up and walking into his room.

"Harry-"

"Rose, please. I need to be alone."
•••
A couple of hours have passed since Harry shut himself in his room. He hasn't come out for anything, not even to handle his business in the bathroom. I give up in myself, I need to go check on him.

I walk up to the door of his room. I blankly stare at it before bringing my strength to knock on it. I give it a couple of knocks, one after another, until I just put my hand on the handle and I twist it.

"Harry you-" The room is empty. I look around and everything's in place, but he's not here. I look around and I find a note on top of his bed. I quickly grab it and I read it.

Shit this can't be. I look up, to find the window wide open.

"He left."
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Like I said, barely the beginning of the story.
Love you!
-WaleskaRomo