All Too Well [H.S]

Seven

TW: GASLIGHTING

This chapter will give you insight into the last conversation Harry & Lilah ever had. I suggest not to skip it as it will be important for future topics :)

Lilah Green

Redditch, United Kingdom

November 29th, 2019

5:37 PM

Lilah's nineteenth birthday

"You're acting a bit strange tonight," Harry says from across the kitchen.

I look over my shoulder, glancing at him as tension rushes to my head, "I honestly don't understand why you are being like this," He adds.

I gulped, continuing to wash the plates. Harry comes up behind me, throwing a dish inside the sink for me to clean. I'm startled by the loud crash, flinching harshly. It's already been such a horrible day, from Harry and I barely speaking on my birthday to our whole family being concerned about what's going on with me.

I've been trying my best to avoid him all night, but now we are trading awkward glances like children in this kitchen. Honestly, I didn't expect him to finally speak up after hours of ignoring each other's existence.

"I haven't been acting weird at all, Harry." I choke out, "You are the one who has not said one word to me all night." Ever since he arrived at my house earlier, he didn't even say hello to me and overlooked me all day. My mum kept coming up to me asking if everything was okay between us, and I would have to provide a nonchalant nod, faking a smile.

My father, who records me every year without fail on my birthday, even stopped as soon as everyone arrived because he could sense something was up with me as well. I've been trying my best to nod my head, keep my posture straight, and maintain my breathing as much as possible, but every time I'd lock eyes with Harry in the corridor, I'd freeze up.

"Are you being serious right now, Lilah?" Harry taunts, taking a rag and cleansing the flour off my kitchen counter. We had just finished making apple cobbler in complete silence for my birthday dinner that was about to occur.

Ever since Harry and I had sex last week, things had been off. After being friends our whole lives, never once has anything ever been romantic between us. But things changed when he showed up on my doorstep inebriated and placed his lips against my neck, whispering profanities. I observe the water falling onto the dish plate, pausing to take a moment to breathe.

I recalled every moment of that night, from him laying me down on my bed telling me everything would be alright to his desperation to touch my body. What pained me was the thought of him not remembering. He knows we had sex, but I don't think he remembers what exactly happened.

"All I'm saying is you have been off all night and last week." He mutters, throwing the rag inside the sink, making me recoil again. For some unusual motive, I feared him at this second. However, Harry and I had fought before, not over something like this. I by no means imagined my nineteenth birthday to be going this way.

My eyes meet the window in front of me, catching a glimpse of my corpse's ghostly face. I had make-up on, but I looked dead on the inside. My red lipstick became a bit smeared from how much I had been licking and biting them within the past few hours. Brown hair no longer straightened, and it became indented in some areas from the sweat on my scalp. You could say I'm anxious. Unquestionably, I debated inviting Harry tonight; however, if I hadn't, everyone would have recognized something was wrong.