Regal [h.s]

Chapter Thirty Five

"Why do I still feel so goddamn inferior?"

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This chapter includes: panic attacks

Amalia

The days just merged into one and each day we were just going through the motions of life, with the added extra of my body giving up on me.

I had been getting headaches for the past week, each one seemingly worse than the next. I could only truly be at peace when all the lights were off and there was no noise entering my ears. It must've been the stress just creeping up on me and eventually making me snap. I was just drained of everything and I didn't have much else to give.

Most days I had to force myself out of bed, telling myself I was fine and it was all in my head. I needed to be present for Cose and for Harry, who was currently going through quite possibly the toughest time in his life.

Neither of us thought that life could get any worse than what it already had been. We had strangers lurching at us over the internet and men with huge cameras peaking through the bushes. That was the lowest of the low.

Or at least we thought it was.

That was until Harry's family decided to place themselves back into the picture and ruin what was supposed to be a wholesome and freeing moment for us. Instead they came along and tore everything apart. Or perhaps they were stitching things back together. I wasn't sure of their intentions just yet.

He had, or rather, I had text them back from Harry's phone after he gave me the go ahead, but was too nervous to do it himself. He was a shaking and blubbering mess, barely even able to gasp for air as he rambled out a rough guide of the words he wanted me to type.

It took us nearly three hours to send a simple text.

But he had agreed that it felt like a massive weight off of his shoulders when I finally pressed send. I won't mention how we quickly threw his phone under a pillow and ran to his bedroom, hiding under the covers as if his phone was a ticking time bomb.

It was incredibly brave of Harry to even get this far. I can imagine how scary it feels, and I can see what it's doing to him. His anxiety seems to be at an all time high and it hasn't helped that I've been so exhausted to the point where I dread awakening in the mornings.

I know he's worried about me, I can tell in his eyes when I finally pry my eyes open in the morning, or when he asks how I am and I just tell him I'm fine, but there's a look on his face that tells me he knows all too well how I'm feeling.