Tribulation [h.s]

48*

This is Chapter 47 in Harry's POV (first person)
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For the first time in a while, I'm genuinely upset. "Your ex?" The words fall from my lips, laced with malice. I must have misheard her, right?

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

Mindlessly, I follow her as she walks down her hall and enters the bathroom. I scowl while I watch her grab my clothes — the clothes that I had folded and placed on the sink counter before getting in the shower.

"Why do you still have his clothes?" I demand for an answer as I continue following her to the end of the hall, where her old and outdated washer and dryer are.

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

Just for clarification, I ask one more time. "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 me, and frankly, I'm too stunned to speak. I don't know how long I was left alone, staring off at nothing while trying to gather my thoughts in the hallway. She wears her ex's clothes to bed? I don't know what I'm feeling right now. At first, it was a tingly, numb feeling that transformed into something much darker and ugly.

It gets me angry.

I'm far more flustered than I anticipated I would be before turning around and walking to where I assume Allie is. When I see 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?

I throw myself down on the couch with my arms crossed, not paying attention to the cartoon playing on the TV. My jaw begins aching from how hard I clench my teeth, and my nails dig into the skin of my palms as my hands bawl up into tight fists.

Fuck Mason. Fuck him and his stupid clothes.

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 before me. "I made you a coffee," she says with a gentle smile before sitting down on the couch beside me. 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!"

I don't respond. I keep my gaze forward and unmoving because no, I don't want to watch a fucking movie right now.

"Harry?" The couch dips as she scoots closer to me, yet I still ignore her. From the corner of my eye, I can see her visibly deflate with my rejection. She tries again. "Haz? What's wrong?" She places her cup of coffee down on the end table and gives me her undivided attention. "Are you ignoring me?" My silence must have been enough of a response for Allie. With drooping eyelids and slanted eyebrows, the corner of her lips pulls down slightly.

I can see the hurt, confusion, and worry taking over her. It honestly pisses me off more because I know I just hurt her by doing something so childish – the silent treatment. "Did I do something wrong?" She asks softly. I turn my head and look in the opposite direction of her because I can't stand the sight of her sad pout. "What did I do-"

"Nothing," I recant 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.