Tribulation [h.s]

47*

"We had made love earlier that day with no strings attached
But I could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then."

-

 
Harry's POV (third-person limited)

For the first time in a while, Harry is genuinely upset. "Your ex?" The words fall from his lips, laced with venom.

Allie blinks and stands slowly from the couch. "...yeah."

Mindlessly, Harry follows her like a petulant child as she walks down her hall and enters the bathroom. He scowls while watching her grab his clothes — the clothes he had folded and placed on the sink counter before getting in the shower.

"Why do you still have his clothes?" He demands an answer as he follows her to the end of her hall, where her old and outdated washer and dryer are.

Allie shrugs when she throws his clothes in the washer with detergent and peony scented fabric softener. "I just do. I don't like throwing clothes away."

"So, you still wear his clothes?"

"Yeah, sometimes. I mostly wear them to bed because they don't fit me very well."

Allie moves then, brushing past Harry, who's frankly too stunned to speak. He doesn't know how long he was left alone, staring off at nothing while trying to gather his thoughts in the hallway.

She wears her ex's clothes to bed? Harry is far more flustered than he anticipated before turning around and walking to where he assumes Allie is.

When he sees her again, she's in the kitchen making coffee, humming some tune as if everything is fine – as if everything is just fucking peachy.

How dare she?

He throws himself down on the couch with his arms crossed, not really paying attention to the cartoon playing on the TV. When Allie walks into the living room a few minutes later, she has two mugs in her hand, placing the cups gently on the end table.

"I made you a cup of coffee," she says with a gentle smile before sitting down on the couch beside him. She takes a small sip from her mug absentmindedly. "Wanna watch a movie?" She grabs the remote and begins flicking through different channels. "Ooh, the Notebook is on! Orrrr, we could watch one of those old westerns. Have you ever seen Tombstone? It's one of the greatest movies of all time!"

Harry doesn't respond. He keeps his gaze forward and unmoving because no, he doesn't want to watch a fucking movie right now.

Allie tilts her head. "Harry?" She scoots closer, yet he still ignores her. From the corner of his eye, Harry can see Allie visibly deflate with his rejection. She tries again. "Haz? What's wrong?" She places her cup of coffee down on the end table and gives Harry her undivided attention. "Are you ignoring me?" His silence must have been enough of a response for Allie. With drooping eyelids and slanted eyebrows, the corner of her lips pulls down slightly.

He can see the hurt, confusion, and worry taking over her. It honestly pisses him off more because he knows he just hurt her by doing something so childish – the silent treatment. "Did I do something wrong?" She asks softly. Harry turns his head and looks in the complete opposite direction of her because he can't stand the sight of her sad little pout. "What did I do-"

"Nothing," he recants bitterly. "You did nothing." And that's just the problem now, isn't it? Instead of sitting here, she should be throwing her ex's clothes in the trash, out the window, or hell, even burning them.