VIRULENCE | H.S |

~ 35 • C ~

A/N: Hi! I missed you all. Thanks for waiting for me while I was on vacation. <3 This is my favorite chapter I've wrote, and I've been waiting to share it with you, I'm so excited...I hope you love it as much as I do. <3

DON'T FORGET TO VOTE <3

Chapter Thirty Five - Catherine's POV

Unease.

Anger.

Anxiety.

The three emotions filtering through my blood as I exit the archive room and ferociously slam the door behind me.

I wasn't aiming to be petty—but that didn't change the energy that gave me a temporary feeling of peace when I completed the abrupt action of spiffing off at Harry in solemn retaliation.

Ugh....How can he be like this? How can he speak such toxic and raw rhetoric?

Of course—I may not be much better. I bit into him just as deeply with my cut-throat words and spiteful tone.

It's a coping mechanism, of course. But, it's one that I've perfected in order to not bring harm to myself.

Though, still-- even after everything, I wasn't expecting him to turn on me just like that. I'd thought we'd made some form of progress in our... relationship? Friendship? Association?

Association...ah, yes. That one feels the most appropriate. Because, friendship is too much, and relationship.... well,relationship is almost comical.

A relationship with him could never happen.

And a friendship? At first, I was curious. But, now....it seems that even that label is too much of something, as well. And, I hate even more that that hurts me to admit. Because, despite his toxicity, it felt sometimes as if he was the only one, I could relate to.

And I feel so fucking stupid for that.

Also, what just happened makes me feel even more of an idiot than ever before.

The behavior he exhibited was so similar to one that I'd experienced my entire life, by the only other man I've ever loved.

My father.

It's true--Harry mimicked my father when he lashed out at me in the archive room. And that coping mechanism that I exhibited was exactly what I did when my dad lashed me too deeply with his words.

And, today, Harry's were just as bad.

The raw words that cut like sharp knives through my skin to cause pain were slitting right through me, and my only response was one I learned after time and time again of experiencing that pain throughout my entire childhood.

I used my own words to allow myself to push back in some way. I had to. It was the only response I could've achieved due to my vulnerability. But...I may have gone too far with them, as I left him clearly speechless.

Though, after I shot out my daggers, I didn't stay around long to wait for his response. I was too full of angst and unease to wait around for him to reply.

But do I regret my words? My words that I used as a safety blanket to protect myself.

Absolutely not—I'd be an ignorant fool to do that.

For years, I've built myself up with strength. I've worked tirelessly to enable myself to not be tried by the actions or words of others, as I had experienced such deep trauma from it, all throughout my childhood. And, until today, I'd done a fucking good job allowing myself to be strong enough to not give into those scars.