Sanctuary [h.s.]

Chapter Fifteen (*)

"And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her

I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight

Lie still, close your eyes, girl, so lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close, soft breast, beating heart."

***

Another weekend came around, wrapping itself in the lazy embrace of a Friday afternoon. Olivia and I decided to bake, our kitchen transforming into a warm oasis filled with the intoxicating scent of sugar and cinnamon. Flour dusted our clothes and settled in the air like tiny snowflakes, turning the ordinary into something magical. We laughed as we mixed ingredients, our voices mingling with the hum of the oven and the distant buzz of London outside our window.

After our baking escapade, we settled onto the worn, comfortable couch, the kind that seemed to hug you back when you sat down. We indulged in the fruits of our labour, savouring the sweet pastries that melted in our mouths. The television blared with the exaggerated drama of a terrible reality show, its absurdity amplified by the wine we sipped. The show was ridiculous, the kind that made you feel better about your own life, and we reveled in its nonsensical storylines, giggling and pointing out the most absurd moments.

As Olivia reached for another glass of wine, her eyes landed on the faint bruise peeking out from the collar of my shirt. It was a hickey, one that Harry had left on my neck, a mark that felt like a brand. Her eyebrows shot up, and a knowing smirk played on her lips.

"Someone had a fun night," she teased, her tone light and playful.

I felt my cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and the lingering thrill of Harry's touch. Olivia, ever perceptive, didn't push further. She had always been patient, waiting for me to open up when I was ready. Her gentle understanding was a comfort, a silent reassurance that I wasn't alone in my secrets.

I smiled back, a secretive smile that hinted at more than I was willing to share just yet. We clinked our glasses together, the wine catching the light as it swirled, and turned our attention back to the chaotic drama on the screen. For a moment, the weight of my hidden world was lighter, cushioned by the warmth of friendship and the simple pleasures of an ordinary afternoon.

As the evening turned into night, Olivia drew tired and excused herself to bed before she fell asleep on the couch. Left by myself in the living room, I continued to watch the TV, the ridiculous drama now a comforting background noise. The soft glow of the screen flickered across the room, casting shadows that danced with the fading light of day. Just as I was about to sink deeper into the cushions, my phone buzzed with a call. Harry.

"Hey," I greeted, my voice light with anticipation.

"Eleanor," he replied, his smile evident even through the phone. "How was your day?"

"Good! Spent the day with Olivia. Nice to be around someone normal for a bit," I jested playfully, the words rolling off my tongue with ease.

"Really? I prefer my company extraordinary," he countered, his tone teasing and charming as always.

I laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Aww, thanks."

"Don't thank me, thank your parents," he quipped.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes even though he couldn't see. "They don't get any of the credit."

"You're right, of course. Forgive me," Harry apologised, his voice softening.