PULSE [H.S]

045

"Worrying does not empty tomorrow of its troubles, it empties today of its strength." — Corrie Ten Boom

I'm nauseous.

Just like I am at any minor stressor that pops up in my life. But this is different; this is making my entire body ache as I fight to keep down the sandwich I just ate.

I push my plate away, dropping my face into my hands and closing my eyes, forcing myself to take some deep breaths. In and out, in and out, in and out.

It was a mistake trying to put any food in my body today. I should have known better.

The sound of the fridge opening catches me by surprise, and I take my face out of my hands to see Harry looking into it. He reaches in, grabbing something off the bottom shelf.

When he turns around, he looks at me, his eyes landing on my hand. I realize I'm tapping my nails on the counter subconsciously, so I flatten my hand against the surface.

He raises the package of chicken breasts in his hands, saying, "Want any?"

The sight of raw chicken almost makes me gag. I shake my head, saying, "No, thanks."

When I stand to put my dishes in the sink, my vision is spotty. I grip onto the counter to steady myself, the world around me becoming extremely blurry. I blink a few times, and everything comes back to me.

I wait a moment before trying to move, and then I bring my plate over to the sink, running warm water over it. I feel like my body is going to give out on me at any second.

I hate this time of the year. I've been dreading it since last year.

I jump as Harry's hand touches my back. He leans over me, shutting off the water. I must have been frozen there, letting the water run but not making any effort to actually wash the plate.

Harry says, "What's going on?"

"What?" I say as I dry my hands off on a towel. "Nothing."

He stares at me for a long second, but then goes back to focusing on his raw chicken breast, taking the slimy piece of raw meat out of the packaging. I swallow the bile as it starts to rise in my throat, forcing my body to keep the contents of my stomach where they belong.

Harry comments, "You're acting weird."

"You're acting weird."

That was stupid. I don't know why I said that.

Fuck, I might pass out right now.

I slowly lower myself to the ground, sitting down and leaning my back against the cabinet door. I lean my head back and close my eyes, focusing on evening out my breathing so I don't collapse entirely.

My head spins. Even with my eyes closed, I feel like the room around me is spinning, like I'm being spun around in the darkness. It makes me feel lightheaded.

"Kiz." Harry's voice brings me back to reality. I open my eyes to see him crouching down next to me, his hand on my knee. He says, "Are you okay?"

My eyes focus on his face, and the world stops spinning as he takes up my entire focus. I nod, bringing myself back up to my feet, and he follows suit, rising to his full height again.

I say, "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry."

He looks at me, concerned, and not convinced by my words. I slowly walk out of the kitchen, deciding that I'll wash my dishes later. I head towards the stairs, wanting to just lie down in bed.

I pause when my hand reaches the railing, chewing on my lip. I turn around, walking back into the kitchen, where Harry's eyes land on me instantly.