Deliverance [h.s.]

twenty-nine | grow as we go

We'll take it slow

And grow as we go

Grow As We Go || Ben Platt

*************

I don't want you to hate me in the morning more than you already do.

My ass he didn't.

When I opened my eyes this morning I was expecting warmth. I was expecting to breathe in the familiar scent of Harry. I was expecting to roll over into the light of the sun to see him sleeping beside me.

But it's becoming a recurring theme with Harry that what I expect, is not what I get.

The reality is, when I opened my eyes it was cold. Harry wasn't beside me, he wasn't sleeping peacefully, he was gone. I thought we were making progress but this morning it is just a harsh reality that we are tigers who cant change their stripes.

I'm pissed, I'm confused, mostly, I'm hurt.

I gently sat up from my spot in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I slumped over lazily. Harry must've left in a hurry, leaving his space beside me in bed unmade as if he couldn't get away fast enough.

I want to brush it off, pretend it didn't sting to lay my feelings out the best I could only for him to disappear without a word in the morning. I wanted to text him, give him a piece of my mind but he doesn't deserve that; he doesn't deserve me.

I gathered the hair on my head, twisting around itself, securing it with a thin black hair tie from my wrist. I pushed the plush comforter from my body, slowly slipping my legs from the bed, placing my feet on the cold floor. I stretched my arms over my body, sighing out deeply as I tried bringing my limbs to life. The ache in my side was prominent but manageable, nothing medicine wouldn't be able to fix.

I looked down at the bandages covering my skin, the feeling over Harry's gentle hands on me as he took care of me on the bathroom counter. I don't know what hurts more, the insult of his actions or the stupid fucking wound reminding me of the person Harry could be.

This is Mac's fault.

If he didn't convince me to text Harry last night none of this would have happened. Harry would have never showed up, he would have never held me the way he did, he would have never left me in the morning.

I know it's not truly Mac's fault, but for now, I'm blaming it on him.

I pushed myself from the bed, making my way to the dresser across the room. I scanned the floor, looking for any remnants of Harry but there was nothing. His clothes that were once scattered across the floor of my room are gone. I shook my head, feeling the anger rising inside of me.

I grabbed a simple shirt and a pair of shorts from the dresser, throwing it onto my body before making my way out of my room.

I needed to vent to Mac, I needed to get these feelings off my chest. I know he'll tell me what I need to hear and even if he can't I know he'll listen to me talk shit as much as I need.

My feet dragged across the floor as I stepped down the narrow hallway, hearing the sound of Mac stirring about in the kitchen; his normal morning routine. My nostrils filled with the scent of coffee grounds; the scent of home, something I would never get tired of.

"That fucking bastard had the audac-"

The moment I stepped into the kitchen, I'm met with Mac and Harry standing behind the center island. Both of them holding mugs to their mouths, sipping as my presence enters the room.