earned it [h.s.]

28. (*)

TW: sexual activity without consent (a yes turning into a no and it's not listened to)

Genevieve.

"Hi. I have an appointment with doctor Anderson." I murmured as I walked into the doctor's office on Wednesday.

The lady behind the desk glanced at me over her glasses and nodded, "Name, please?"

I cringed under my breath before pulling my courage together, "Genevieve Watson."

"Right, you can have a seat in there. The doctor will be with you in a moment."

I forced her a small, uncomfortable smile as I turned around and sat down in one of the plastic chairs. I was at a doctor's office in a posh part of London where I didn't belong at all. It had taken me a while to get here with the public transport, but Blair apparently insisted that I saw this particular doctor.

It was time for my first monthly check-up and STI-test and pregnancy test like Blair so desperately wanted. I used to huff at the idea that she didn't trust me enough and felt the need for me to do this, but apparently she wasn't that far off seeing as I was sleeping with her husband on the side. Raw.

I had to admit I didn't visit the doctor all that often. I hardly got sick and was addicted to working. I got my Xanax illegally and did STI-testing at the free clinic every once in a while. For a thorough check-up, Ezra took care of that for us and paid for it too.

It was another hot July-day and I thanked the aircon in this building because the subway was basically an oven. I wore a skirt and my usual boots – basically the only outfit I owned – and a loose flannel in hopes of some wind blowing through it. But the air was hot and there wasn't any wind. My hair was up and out of my face and it was safe to say I'd need one hell of a transformation to be presentable for Blair tonight.

Last night had been... strange. The entire day had been strange.

I didn't think much of it when Harry asked me to meet up and talk. I assumed he wanted to come back on his earlier decision to keep whatever was going on between us, going. I guess I was constantly waiting on the moment for him to flake and regret everything and pretend nothing ever happened.

What I didn't expect, was for him to bring up the three words he had slurred out during the peak of his orgasm. I honestly hadn't even paid any attention to it. I was very, very used to men shouting out they loved me in the middle of sex. Harry was definitely not an exception there.

I hardly heard it, and there wasn't even a small part of me that ever considered that he meant it. Still, he seemed to feel bad and wanted to set the record straight.

The record that this was just sex. I had a strange reaction to his words, yet at the same time it didn't surprise me. It was really only a matter of time before Harry turned out to be like everyone else. He was too good to be true. He tried to get to know Genevieve and ended up not feeling fulfilled with her. Disappointed maybe, even. 

Disappointed with her late night drunk calls where she cried on the phone and begged him to soothe her to sleep. Disappointed with her low self-esteem and her lack of a spine and an opinion. Disappointed that she couldn't even order for herself and needed to be guided around.

So he needed Sloane. Like everyone else did.

All everyone had ever told me was how I could never deserve the attention or affection of someone like him, and it was proven right once more.

It didn't mean it wasn't painful to hear him coming back on everything he had told me before. How could a man tell me I deserved so much love and care in the world, yet in the same sentence tell me he was incapable of loving me and that I should be less myself around him.