PULSE [H.S]

020

"Every sunset is an opportunity to reset. Every sunrise begins with new eyes." — Richie Norton

It doesn't hurt as much when I make my way down the stairs today.

I feel like I can breathe normally again, and the pressure on my side is slowly subsiding. I looked at my stomach this morning, and I really wish I hadn't. Even four days later, the majority of my stomach and rib cage are black and blue.

Harry's sitting at the counter in the kitchen when I walk in. When he sees me, he says, "There's Lucky Charms in the cabinet."

"There's no nutritional value in that," I mock him. "I think I'll just chug a protein shake and eat a raw chicken breast for breakfast."

He shakes his head, not looking up from his phone. Then he adds, "There's almond milk in the fridge, too."

The idea of him getting both of those things, knowing they're entirely for me, is mind-blowing to me. Guilt creeps up inside me. He shouldn't have to buy me groceries.

I grab a bowl and dump some cereal into it, then grab the almond milk and pour it into the bowl. My mom used to get us lucky charms all the time, and we'd solve all of the puzzles on the back of the box together. I close the box, shoving it back in the cabinet.

I take a seat on one of the stools at the counter and eat my sugary breakfast. Who would ever want eggs over something like this?

Harry's gaze is pointed at me, so I turn to meet it. His eyes are on my cereal bowl. I ask, "What?"

He looks amused, saying, "Nothing."

I turn back to my bowl, which is now just entirely lucky charms because I ate all of the boring pieces first, saving the best for last.

Harry says, "I was thinking we should go to your apartment today."

My eyes lock with his as my body tenses up. The nerves hit me instantly, but I should've expected this. This is Harry's apartment, his home. Not a place for me. It still feels like I've been hit in the gut all over again.

"To pick up some of your stuff. I'm assuming you don't want to live in my clothes forever," he clarifies.

I let out a breath. But I still ask, "Are you sure you're okay with me staying here? You barely know me, and—"

"I'm sure." He cuts me off, his face serious. He says, "If you don't want to come, you can tell me what you need, and I can grab it."

The thought of Harry going through my underwear drawer makes me incredibly uncomfortable. I shake my head, saying, "I'll be fine."

When we are standing in front of my door, I'm not fine. I put the key in the door, twisting it so it unlocks. My hand grips the doorknob, but I hesitate. My heart is beating so fast, I can feel it thumping against my chest.

I haven't even seen the sight yet, but I'm already finding this to be too much for me. My stomach clenches, and I feel nauseous.

Harry's hand touches my shoulder, breaking me out of my internal spiral. His green eyes stare into mine, and I realize I'm not alone. He's here, and I'm safe. What I'm about to see is just a reminder of why I left.

I push the door open, and it's freezing inside my apartment. I left the kitchen window open.

"Careful," Harry says as we walk in. "Watch the glass."

The shattered wine bottle litters the floor, but it's the one thing that I don't mind seeing because it was my attempt at fighting back. Even if I didn't stop him, I drew blood.