Even If It Hurts -H.S. AU

73

Nine weeks after

My bruises are finally fading, and I'm starting to feel more like myself.

Harry had to go back into the office, which he tried to fight until I convinced him I would be okay. I know I need to return to work at some point too, but I just want this mark on my neck to go away before that happens. Victoria and Phoebe are running the office seamlessly, so I know the rest of my girls are in great hands.

After Harry left for work late this afternoon, I decided to take a real shower. I even did a face mask before I got in and I washed my hair more thoroughly than I have in awhile. I scrubbed and exfoliated every part of my body before I shaved for the first time since Phoebe helped me weeks ago. I definitely wasn't going to ask Harry to do that.

The heat of the water and effort it took for my shower had me lightheaded by the end of it. I sat on edge of the tub as I moisturized my legs and the rest of my skin, afraid I might fall over.

Finally, the fog clears in the bathroom and I feel okay enough to stand. I head into our closet for the first time in what feels like forever and pull open my top dresser drawer. I rifle through the contents until I find what I'm looking for.

I pull out the two piece, black lace bra and panty set that Harry bought me after we first started seeing each other again. My stomach flips when I look at it but I swallow the lump in my throat and put it on anyway. I throw a big sweater on over it that lands in the middle of my thighs, and don't bother finding pants. I don't plan on needing them, anyway.

After I let Harry help me take a bath a few weeks ago, we've slowly started to become closer again physically. We still haven't had sex, despite my doctor telling me I was fully healed at the six and a half week mark. I just didn't feel like I was ready yet. Harry never pushes, even if I want him to, because I know I wouldn't be able to turn him down if he asked. Which isn't fair, I know.

These past few weeks it felt like we were teenagers again, making out on the couch or in bed and only going as far as second base. We kiss for what feels like hours, getting lost in each other as we moan into each others mouths and grind our clothed bodies together.

It's fucking hot, I'm not gonna lie. The way his body moves against me with need is mind numbing, and the sounds he makes as we kiss sends waves of heat between my legs. But eventually, one of us breaks away before things get too out of hand. It's usually Harry, and I try not to pout because I know he only wants to be respectful of me and my boundaries.

I would find myself longing to follow him into the bathroom when he goes to shower, knowing the actual purpose of him practically running away from me. But I never did, because I haven't even had the courage to try anything myself. If I'm too scared to touch myself, like my body is that different somehow, I can't put that kind of pressure on him.

I woke up feeling different today though. He kissed me goodbye this morning and his lingering lips on mine erupted a fire within me that I'm determined to let him put out. It's time. I'm ready.

Harry goes in late and is only at work a few hours at a time before he comes home, so I know I don't have long. I quickly brush my teeth and spray perfume on my neck before I hurry out to the living room.

I open the front door and find exactly what I hoped would be here. A pizza set outside the door with a note on it from the doorman, Edgar. I asked him if he could help me get dinner tonight and he was more than happy to do so.